THIS IS THE FINAL CHAPTER OF MISS OBENG. I JUST COULDN'T GO OUT WITH OUT ONE MORE GOOD SMUTTY SCENE! I COULDN'T DENY MY TWO FAVORITE CHARACTERS THEIR SWEAT-SOAKED REUNION!

THE REUNION

The next half hour was a frenzy of clothes flying, hands wandering, blankets twisting, flesh sliding, lips searching, words escaping, breath accelerating, heartbeats hastening, pleasure exploding, the universe stopping.

As Martha lay, gasping for air, coming down from her second climax, realising that the Doctor was nowhere near finished, she hissed, "Whoa, what's got into you?"

"Eighteen hours," hissed back, never stopping, never slowing down. "Lost you." His lips found her neck, his tongue teased at the flesh, and his fingers buried themselves in her hair. He let out some sort of sound that more closely resembled a growl than a groan, and he squeezed her, drove into her, tried to possess every inch of her, inside and out.

"Eighteen hours?" she asked, her mind less and less focused on the dialogue with every move he made.

"Hell," he told her. "I thought... I thought..."

She held him tighter with the realisation of what he meant. "I'm sorry," she said, still panting with exertion. "For me it was an instant."

"For me it was a lifetime," he panted back. "I can't think..." His entire body was consumed. He wanted her, he had her. He needed her, he needed to keep her. Every moment that went by seemed to make him more desperate to claim her, yet he knew she was his. His body was telling him to press forward, though, press harder, until they were both sure.

Martha felt herself begin to make the ascent one more time, and she let him know – her moment would come again soon. His body tightened, and then every molecule within both of their bodies seemed to give way somehow, as though there had been a dam holding everything back. Their voices cut across the air like a splatter of paint on a white surface, and their colours mixed into a kind of blue music.

And then the frenzy died down. But it was at least fifteen minutes before either one of them regained feeling enough to speak. Eventually, she turned on her side and faced him, and he did likewise. Their skin had returned to a normal, fleshy hue, and their minds were reasonably coherent now.

Lying in a dim gold light, exuding her own kind of glow, Martha asked, "That was the result of an eighteen-hour separation?"

The Doctor didn't answer, he just lay on his side and stared at her, grinning.

"That's not even a whole day!"

He smiled back, unapologetic, utterly sated.

"Wow," she blinked. "Less than a day, and you're that energetic."

"I'd love to make a crude joke right now," he said. "But I don't want to spoil the moment." He leaned forward and kissed her bare shoulder, and for the umpteenth time over the past year, marveled at how simply breathtaking she was. "It really was instantaneous for you?" he asked.

She raised one eyebrow.

"The angel thing," he said, sighing. "Not the other thing."

"Yes," she laughed. "One second I'd turned to run from the angel, the next second, I was in the TARDIS with you."

"No separation at all?"

"None."

He flopped down on his back, disturbing the covers. "Blimey. You're lucky."

"Sounds like. Did Billy sit up with you all night?"

"For a bit. Sally too. Eventually they left, and I slept for a while. It was pretty awful," he said, reaching for her. "I thought there was a good chance I might never see you again. Even for just eighteen hours, that was as much grief as I can take right now. No more, I say."

She lay her head down on his chest and heard the dual heartbeat, slowing down from their latest exertion. "How did you get me back?" she asked.

"You gave the angel indigestion," he said. "It's like the Silaero that eat light sources, but they can't handle the taint of darkness. The angels eat the future, but your future contains the taint of the past."

"Whoa!" she said.

"Yep. So I channeled a bit of the energy of yours that is carried within the TARDIS, and shined it on the angel. The contamination became too much, and it spit you out. We gave it a heavy dose of the past, and we won."

"I'm vomit."

"Well," he said, drawing out that syllable. "Not exactly. Anyway, it's better than the alternative."

"True," she agreed, smiling. Then, suddenly she remembered, "Oh God! My mum!"

"It's taken care of," he said, stroking her head. "She was so shaken over what happened to you, I don't think she'll be going back there any time soon. Besides, she and I had a harrowing encounter with the angels in the house."

"You and she? Really? I hope she didn't get a good look at you."

"She never really looked at my face because we were so busy trying to keep our eyes on the angels. I'd be surprised if she could pick me out of a line-up."

"If you say so," she said.

"I do," he told her. "And you know what else I say? Let's move the hell on."

"Amen," she sighed. "Thank God!"


ONE WEEK LATER...

The sun was hot, the the humidity downright oppressive. But none of that mattered because the ocean, the palm trees, the Mai Tais... they were heavenly.

Martha Jones lay on a teak lounge chair, slowly sipping tropical juices with rum, admiring the blue all around, waiting. She had promised to go snorkeling this week, and today was perhaps the day. But for the moment, she'd just wait to be summoned and hide behind her sunglasses.

"Hello," a voice said behind her. His hands touched her bare shoulders and massaged them softly. He kissed her ear. "What have you been up to this morning?"

"Basking. Getting slowly drunk. Giving myself skin cancer."

He came around to her right and looked over the top of his sunglasses at her turquoise string bikini. "Looking somehow very hot in very little clothing."

She feigned offence. "It's the most I've worn in forty-eight hours! I'm practically an eskimo!" she said.

"Touché," the Doctor said. "I suppose these things are all relative. Not that I'm complaining."

She looked at him naughtily. "I'd hope not. Did you tell housekeeping they can come back in now?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, sitting down on an adjacent teak ottoman. "And I apologised for the unfortunate mishap."

"We really should have had the sign on the door," she sighed.

"How could we have forgotten?"

"For two straight days!"

"No one wants to see me from that angle," he insisted. "And I know I should be working on my tan." He mock-shuddered, and she laughed.

And they both sighed.

"Fancy a snorkel?" he asked.

"Meh," she whined. "I'd rather just sit here. We've exerted ourselves plenty – I'm tired. Besides, I've been drinking."

"Okay," he shrugged. "Have it your way. I guess I'd better catch up." He waved at a waiter and pointed to Martha's glass, and held up two fingers. The waiter nodded and scurried away.

He moved a lounge chair up next to hers, took the towel off his shoulder and threw it onto the back of the chair. As he was kicking off his flip-flops, it was Martha's turn to peek over her sunglasses at him.

"What?" he asked.

"Are you seriously wearing brown pin-striped swimming trunks?"

He looked down at his knee-length nylon shorts. "What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," she sang, stifling a chuckle. "Did Converse manufacture your flip-flops?"

Cautiously, he said, "Yes. What of it?"

She burst out laughing, but said nothing.

With a look of amused scorn, he lounged next to her. Another round of drinks came, and for a while, they just sat there, letting Tahiti do its good work.

And then a noise. A neener-neener sounded from the pink canvas bag at Martha's side, indicating that she was receiving a text message. She extracted her mobile phone and opened the display.

"It's Billy," she said, puzzled. She looked at the Doctor and said, "It is 2007, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I gave him universal roaming. For emergencies only, though. What's he got to say?"

"He and Sally are engaged," she said, scrunching her nose. "Wow, that's awfully quick."

"Oh, they'll be all right," the Doctor assured her. "We know that for a fact, don't we?"

"I suppose," she sighed. "I wonder if they'll have any children."

"Oddly, I don't know," he answered.

Her thumb flashed over the keys of her mobile. She shut it, and put it back in her pink bag.

"What did you say?" he asked her.

"I tried to one-up him," she said. "Told him we'd run off and got married over the week-end."

He looked at her with a bit of horror. "You didn't."

"Of course I didn't, I said congratulations," she laughed. "You are too easy to wind up today! It's a holiday – relax."

"Easy for you to say. How many Mai Tais have you had?"

"Erm, four?"

"Martha! It's ten in the morning!"

"I know, but it's so hard to care."

He sighed with a fleeting frustration and took his place once again staring at the sea and the pretty people. He sipped along with her. They held hands and let the rays wash away the London February they had recently endured.

Before long, Martha's pink bag was neenering again.

"Ugh," the Doctor groaned. "You know, if you want me to relax, you can start by killing your phone."

She dug it out of the bag, and checked the display. She smiled. "It's my mum."

"Hmph," he said. "What does she want?"

"She's still doing that come home, it's not safe, the Doctor is dangerous thing."

"Yeah, stay away from the dangerous, dangerous Doctor, but traipsing about in termite-infested houses is fine, so long as you don't get caught stealing. Sure. Why not?"

Martha sighed. "You know, someday we'll have to tell her about us."

To her surprise, the Doctor actually laughed. "She already thinks it, Martha. She knew it long before we did."

"Well, long before you, maybe," Martha said, again, peeking over her glasses. "I knew all along."

"In any case, I don't think she'll be surprised. Pissed off, okay, but not surprised."

"You know what? I think..."

But the thought died in her mouth. A dull roar that seemed to come from the bowels of the Earth rose up and shook the ground. Across the resort area, scores of people began fleeing from one of the hotels, screaming in almighty fear.

Martha and the Doctor looked at each other.

"Well, it was fun while it lasted," he said. They clinked their glasses together, each took a sip, and then, hand-in-hand, they ran toward the screaming.

END


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