Lurky McLurklurk (ionlylurkhere) wrote,
Lurky McLurklurk

Fic: Girls' Night Out, Girls' Night In (Martha/Donna, NC-17)

  1. I blame in_the_end entirely.
  2. I normally abominate smoosh names, but: Madonna, Y/HELL Y?
  3. There is a cameo at the end that lets me make a very tenuous claim for this being my contribution to Day O'Classic.

Title: Girls' Night Out, Girls' Night In
Author: ionlylurkhere
Pairing: Martha/Donna (with mentions of Martha/Tom, Martha/Ten and Donna/Ten for good measure)
Word count: 2700
Rating: somewhere between a hard R and a light NC-17 (for the obvious and a tiny bit of exhibitionist stuff)
Spoilers: Mild ones for everything up to "The Poison Sky".
Summary: Martha and Donna go out for the evening. Set between the main bit of "The Poison Sky" and that final TARDIS scene, if you squint quite a bit.

The Restaurant

Donna was already waiting outside when Martha got out of her taxi. When the Doctor had disappeared off saying there was something he had to do before he left, and he'd probably be a while, Martha had suggested that they go out to her favourite restaurant, and his new friend -- her new friend, too, really -- had readily agreed.

"Well, don't you scrub up nicely?" Donna said to her. "I mean, not that you don't rock the camo gear and white coat and stethoscope looks, but ... wow."

"Thanks!" Martha beamed. It was her best pulling dress, which had become her de facto "best escaping monsters in cathedrals" dress too during that business with Professor Lazarus. Not that she was on the pull tonight. Well, maybe. She hadn't decided yet. "You look very nice yourself." Donna was wearing a long-sleeved blue dress and her hair up. "Shall we?" Martha extended an arm towards the entrance, and followed Donna in.

As soon as they were inside, Alex, the maitre d', came up to her with wide-open arms. "Doctor Jones!" Martha allowed herself to be airkissed on both cheeks.

Donna had started humming. Martha glared at her. "What?"

"You know what."

"Sorry, it's just I hadn't thought of your name that way before. I just thought of you as Martha. But ..."

"And who is your beautiful friend?" Alex asked, expertly pouring oil on the troubled waters.

"This is Donna, Alex. Alex, Donna."

Donna did a weird thing that was almost like a mini-curtsey. Alex bowed slightly back. "A pleasure to meet you. Allow me to take you to your table." He led them to a secluded corner and a table for two lit by candlelight.

"Ooh, very romantic," Donna said sarcastically as they sat down. Martha bit her lip momentarily, but then couldn't help but smile when saw Alex winking at her as he passed the menu.

"A bottle of wine?"

"Have you still got any of that nice Muscadet I had last time?" Martha asked. Alex nodded and withdrew.

"You know," Donna said, "when the Doctor told me you fancied him, I thought you must be blind. But thinking about it, it's definitely him who's the blind one."

Martha smiled. "Thanks." Then she said, "Wait a minute. What exactly did he tell you about me?"

"Oh, you know, that you fancied him." Donna looked up from her menu. "He was trying to be all impressive, you know the way he is."

"So he just came straight out with it like that? Bastard."

"Yeah," Donna said.

"But ... I mean, haven't you ever ... y'know, wondered about what it'd be like?"

"No. Well, you know, not in a good way. He's such a beanpole, a stringy string thing. He'd be all elbows and knees. Ugh. I really don't understand what you saw in him."

"He did kiss me within about ten minutes of us meeting," Martha said. "Well, he said it was a 'genetic transfer', but it was a genetic transfer with tongues. He is a very good kisser. I think that might have been quite a large part of it."

Donna nodded. "I can see how that might do it, yeah." She paused. "Actually, he gave me a ring pretty much as soon as I met him. A 'biodampener' ring but who knows what kind of crazy Martian nonsense that signified to him? And I was wearing a wedding dress at the time ..."

Before Martha could ask the obvious questions, Alex came back with a bottle and two large glasses, poured, took their orders and retreated expertly.

"So, speaking of rings, tell me all about your fi-an-cé," Donna said as soon as he was gone.

Martha turned her left hand so that her engagement ring glittered in the candlelight. "Tom's ... a doctor, but you already knew that. A paediatrician."

"Ooh, good with kids, good father material, yes," Donna said instantly.

Martha gasped. "Bloody hell, Donna, we haven't thought that far ahead yet!"

Donna gave every appearance of considering this claim carefully. "Liar."

"Oh, all right," Martha admitted, rolling her eyes. "Sam if it's a boy, after Tom's uncle. Francine if it's a girl. That's my mum's name. Then hopefully twins a few years later, and maybe another one five years or so down the line. And a big house in the country, with lots of room for friends to come and stay, and dogs."

Donna laughed. "He's good in bed, right?"

"Oh, he's a stallion," Martha said offhandedly.

"Are you sure about the name thing, though? Martha Milligan." Donna rolled the syllables around in her mouth, extracting as much comic potential from them as possible. "Bit alliterative, innit?"

"Better than being an Aqua song."

"Fair point," Donna conceded. "So how long's he in Africa for?"

"Six months overall, he's been gone two now."

"Don't you get ... I mean ..."

"Lonely? Horny?" Martha was pleased that Donna looked slightly shocked at her being so forthright. "Not really a problem."

"Oh, did you pinch a sonic screwdriver off the Doctor before you went?"

Martha laughed. "No! No, the thing is, Tom and I have an ... open relationship."

"Oh, very rock 'n' roll," Donna said.

"The house in the country with room for friends ... they're friends-with-benefits. Well, some of them, anyway."

"Sounds dangerously like it's halfway to a hippie commune to me," Donna said.

Alex appeared with their starters. When he was gone again, Donna asked, "Here, is he one of them? Your friends-with-benefits?"

"One of Tom's, actually." Donna raised her eyebrows for a split second, then shrugged.

They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes.

Donna put down her fork and took a sip from her wine glass. "So, what about your friends-with-benefits?" she said slowly, and Martha was surprised to find herself being looked straight in the eye. "Are they just men? Or women too?"

Martha put her own fork down. "Are you asking what I think you're asking?"

"I think what I'm asking might depend on what the answer to the question is," Donna said, suddenly seeming shy for the first time since Martha had met her.

"I have girlfriends," Martha said with a small smile.

All Donna's shyness disappeared, the brashness Martha had come to recognise returning in full. "Martha Jones, did you bring me here to seduce me?"

"Well, this is my pulling dress," Martha admitted.

Donna smiled, eyes twinkling. "Oh, is it now?"

"Donna ...?"

"Yes, Martha?"

"Is that your foot on my calf?"

"Maybe. What if it was?"

* * *

The Taxi

Martha gave the driver the address of her flat and he instantly accelerated away, catapulting her into the back seat next to Donna. They both laughed.

As the journey settled down to a normal London death ride, Donna gave Martha a look that was either a sexy come on or a drunken lack of focus. She realised it was the former when she felt a hand appear on her lower thigh. "Donna!" Martha said in a slightly strangled tone.

"What?" Donna said, all innocence. Martha tried to indicate the existence of the driver with subtle nods of the head and hand gestures. "Oh, he doesn't mind!"

"I might mind," Martha pointed out.

Donna rapped on the little window separating them from the cabbie with her knuckles. "Here, if we snog, will you give us a free ride?"

In the rear view mirror, the cabbie's eyes looked like all his Christmases had come at once. "OK!" he said.

"Come on, then," Donna said, turning to Martha.

"Donna ..." But before she could object further, Donna was kissing her, lips mashed wetly up against hers. The onslaught was overpowering, and Martha at first surrendered to it, letting the sensations wash over her. Gradually, she began to take a more active role, her own tongue darting out to meet Donna's, then running sensuously around the inside of her lips. Donna responded by grabbing Martha's bottom lip between hers and sucking on it. In return, Martha gripped Donna's top lip between her incisors and nipped it ever so slightly.

Donna had just put a hand on Martha's left breast when she was brought back to reality by the cabbie coughing. She looked around and realised they'd already reached her road. She shook her head to clear it. "Anywhere on the left here's fine."

True to his word, he didn't charge them.

* * *

The Flat

Martha and Donna left a trail of garments across the living room floor as they grappled clumsily with one another's clothes to reach the bedroom semi-naked and panting. Their legs intertwined as they collapsed onto the bed.

Martha was not displeased to find her right arm across Donna's chest. Quickly, she shifted her hand slightly to cup her breast. Donna moaned and Martha began making slow circles with her fingers, skittering close to her nipple but never quite touching it. Donna's breath became increasingly shallow. "You have beautiful breasts," Martha said, then bent down to give a long kiss the nipple she had been teasingly avoiding, ending by nipping it slightly between her teeth, which extracted a groan from Donna.

Donna's hand snaked down to Martha's bum, spreading across one cheek and resting there for a moment before sliding over hip to her front. Martha was suddenly acutely aware of the warmth between her legs and the proximity of Donna's hand, a hair's breadth away from touching. Donna waited, drawing out the exquisite moment, then gently slid her fingers slowly up towards Martha's clit, beginning to make small circles around it with her index finger. Martha moaned and began moving her own hand down Donna's belly. "No," Donna said, "let me."

"Well, if you insist," Martha said, struggling to keep the words coherent as Donna suddenly slipped her middle finger just inside her entrance for a tiny moment.

Donna kissed Martha, a long, slow kiss on the lips, then underneath her chin, down her neck and between her breasts. Donna wriggled her way down the bed to continue the trail of kisses along her belly to where her fingers were already driving Martha wild. In one smooth movement, her tongue took over from her index finger. One of Martha's hands shot out to grip the sheets, brace herself against the ripples of bliss radiating across her body. Donna kept working with her tongue and gently, slowly, slid her finger back into Martha's cunt. Soon after, it was joined by another and the two hooked upwards to find her G-spot. Involuntarily, Martha let out a loud moan, and this seemed to spur Donna on to a frenzy of licking and stroking. All too soon, Martha found herself coming, the surges of pleasure Donna was causing becoming staccato explosions and sparks that tightened muscles she wasn't normally aware of. She yelled incoherently as her back arched then collapsed back onto the bed.

Donna raised her head and took a series of rasping breaths, all the while keeping her fingers pumping in and out.

"Don't stop!" Martha cried. She could already feel another orgasm building, swelling up behind the previous one like waves breaking on the shore.

Donna's voice was all husky throatiness. "Oh, believe me, I'm only just getting started."

* * *

The Morning After

Martha slid seamlessly from soft dreams to soft reality: soft pillow beneath her head; soft flesh wrapped around her; soft kisses against the back of her neck. She purred contentedly.

"Oh, good, you're awake," Donna said. "What's for breakfast?"

"You mean that in a sexy way, right? Like, breakfast after dessert the night before?" Martha gave her eyebrows a waggle for good measure.

"No, I mean what have you got in the kitchen, I'm bloody starving! I've been trying to wake you up with kisses for about half an hour!"

Martha got up, thwacked Donna very deliberately over the head with a pillow and headed off to the fridge.

Ten minutes later, they were sat in the kitchen, Martha in her nightie and Donna in Martha's dressing gown -- which was slightly too small for her, but in a very good way -- eating bacon sandwiches. Donna groaned with pleasure as she took her first bite from her second round. "That is good bacon."

"That's exactly the same noise that you made when I did that thing with my thumb," Martha pointed out.

"It is?"

"Yeah. I think I feel insulted. You like bacon just as much as sex with me. That's definitely insulting."

"No, no, it's a compliment," Donna said. "I like sex with you just as much as I like bacon, and I really, really like bacon."

Martha was unconvinced, but any further discussion of the point was forestalled by a car horn outside the window. Martha got up, opened it halfway and stuck her head through. "We'll be out in a second, Doctor!" she shouted. "We'd better get changed," she said to Donna.

They went back to the bedroom, where Donna pulled on her clothes from the night before. "I'll get changed in the TARDIS!" she said defensively when Martha gave her a look.

Martha opened her wardrobe and started trying to decide what to wear. After a moment, Donna came and stood next to her and started rummaging through the hangers. She pulled out a jacket that Martha had bought last year but hardly ever wore. "There," she said, holding it up to Martha's torso. "You should definitely wear this."

"You think?"

"Yeah, it looks great."

"Tish says there are too many pockets."

"Well, pish to Tish then!" Donna said. "Come on, we don't wanna keep beanpole waiting too long."

When they got outside, they found the Doctor sat behind the wheel of a yellow car that had to be getting on for a hundred years old. Martha wasn't surprised, having taken surreptitious pleasure in reading the Doctor's files when she first joined UNIT, finding out all the things he'd somehow never quite got round to telling her, but Donna's face was a picture.

"What. On. Earth. Do you call that?" she asked eventually.

"Bessie," said the Doctor, as though it was the most obvious answer possible. "Come on, get in."

The journey back to the TARDIS was short in distance, incredibly short in duration and extremely painful in terms of listening to the Doctor's tuneless "singing" on the way. When they arrived, the Doctor leapt out without opening his door and threw his keys to the young soldier, Jenkins, who had been assigned to guard the time machine. "Look after her for me, won't you, Ross?"

Ross saluted. "Certainly, sir!"

"Oh, don't call me 'sir'," said the Doctor irritably. "And don't salute!"

"I was saluting the car,, Doctor."

The Doctor paused to consider this. "Fair enough," he said with a nod, then winked and led Donna into the TARDIS.

Martha lingered behind. "I still get a salute, don't I, Jenkins?"

"'Course you do, ma'am." He stiffened that extra millimetre and snapped his hand crisply to his forehead.

"It's good to see you again," she said. "I thought ..."

"I was lucky, ma'am." He looked straight into her eyes. "A lot of other people weren't."

"I know," she said. "Believe me. I know."

"The lads say that happens sometimes, ma'am. People who get close to the Doctor, things start falling their way."

"Do they now? Can't say that I've noticed." Ross smiled. "Look after his car, won't you?" she said.

"Oh, absolutely, ma'am." She was about to head off when he said, "Ma'am, are you going with them?"

Martha mulled the question over in her mind. "I haven't decided yet," she told him after a moment.

Donna poked her head out of the door. "Come on, Martha!" she yelled.

"See you later, Private Jenkins." She ran off to the TARDIS.

Ross smiled. "Happy landings, Doctor Jones."
Tags: femslash, fic

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  • The SCC news

    Idiots. But then it's Fox, so we kind of knew that already. Still, at least I have S1 to go back and watch for the first time for me. Will probably…

  • "no fate but what we make for ourselves"

    I got around to watching the last episode of S2 of Terminator over the weekend. (It was my reward I gave myself for slogging through the first half…

  • Random stuff

    This poor boy falling into a vat of caustic soda is obviously a terrible, terrible thing, and I hope he recovers well and the damage to his eyes…