Sarah was looking forward to a quiet day, lazing about in her dressing gown and puttering around the house. December had proved to be a nightmare, with all of her friends individually deciding that she needed to socialize more and inviting her to their parties, and then prodding her mercilessly until she agreed to go.
It hadn't been until she'd noted them all down on her calendar that she'd realised how bad it was actually going to be. Starting with the UNIT Christmas party ('you were practically a member once'), she'd attended Barbara and Ian's annual former companion get-together (that was always good, especially since some of the off-planet companions had taken to showing up en masse), the White Chapter's Christmas bash (she'd felt odd about that, but Josh insisted), Planet 3's (now that the scandal had been cleared up, they couldn't do enough to apologise and Nat had dragged her along) and Metropolitan Magazine's (Clorinda had twisted her arm) office parties, the church's Christmas party, and for some reason she'd been invited to Cardiff for the Torchwood party (probably as a thank you for the assistance in disarming the Boland attack robot before it blew up and ignited the atmosphere, destroying the planet).
The last had turned into an overnight drinking extravaganza, as she and Jack tried to top each other's stories. And when she had finally pulled back into her driveway Sunday afternoon, feeling hung over and rather bleary-eyed (she wasn't as young as she used to be), she was relieved it would be the last for some time. She still had Jo's New Year's party to contend with, but thankfully she'd managed to reserve Christmas for herself on the grounds that everyone else had family obligations.
Sarah planned to feast on hot chocolate and toasted cheese and be resolutely unsociable. She really needed to reconsider her image. Apparently, town loony wasn't enough to get people to leave her alone, she needed something stronger...misogyny, perhaps.
It wasn't as though none of these people had ever met. When she had moved in three months ago, she had received a number of offers of help and had accepted all of them. The highlight had been breaking up a near fistfight between Jack and Josh (although, in retrospect, that might have been fun to watch). The whole thing made her consider applying for Survivor or Big Brother. At least the people she'd meet on a reality show might be closer to sane.
When she woke Monday morning (afternoon, really), she felt better. A good night's sleep had helped. She checked her email and took care of some odds and ends. After a while, she actually started thinking that maybe she hadn't overdosed on Christmas cheer after all, and got the ornaments out of the attic. Since she'd been out she hadn't bothered decorating, but now she thought she would.
She set up the artificial tree in the living room (32nd century, bio-engineered from real pine, never sheds, never needs watering, plays 100 classic Christmas Carols as sung by the original stars) and got to work. After discovering that rolling over the tinsel caused a short circuit, she had to instruct K-9 to avoid the area. She could figure out where the fault in his system was later.
The strand of holographic dancing penguins which she had received from Frobisher in the companion gift exchange three years ago, the delicate crystal snowflakes from Calpurnis Four, the stuffed felt gingerbread men she'd made in Guides so many years ago, were all hung on the tree with the same reverence. She hung the coloured lights carefully before plugging them into the outlet in the trunk.
She laid her presents, clearly and emphatically marked 'DO NOT OPEN UNTIL CHRISTMAS', under the tree. Her friends knew her too well. She'd already given all of them the traditional shake, but considered it an act of willpower to obey. She remembered that she still had a gift for the Doctor, tucked in the fridge. She wasn't absolutely sure he'd show up, but it would keep if he didn't.
Satisfied, she went through the mail, covering the mantlepiece with every Christmas card she could find (she just barely managed to squeeze them all on - so much for being antisocial), then lit a fire in the fireplace and settled down with a mug of hot chocolate (liberally dosed with brandy), and a healthy chunk of Evelyn's chocolate cake, which she had received in the Christmas swap this year.
She turned on the telly just in time to see the TARDIS flying up some unidentified motorway and rolled her eyes, wondering if the Doctor was developing a Santa Claus complex. He did seem to be making a habit of saving the world just in time to have a warm, fuzzy Christmas. She wondered whether he'd stop by before going off again. An occasional police box in her back garden would add to her air of eccentricity.
The day passed quietly. She read two novels, fixed the toaster, watched Hogfather and The Box of Delights, and ate indigestible and unhealthy food. She could diet after the holidays. She wasn't all that surprised when she heard the unmistakable sound of the TARDIS materialising shortly after dark.
Sarah considered starting some tea, but knew from previous experience that when dealing with the Doctor one often got sidetracked and the kettle ended up boiling dry. She'd lost at least three kettles, due to Doctor-related distractions and wasn't about to lose another.
She stood in the back doorway and waited to see which Doctor it was this time. When the Tenth Doctor finally poked his nose out of the TARDIS, his hair was its usual unruly mess, and his arms were full of unknown objects, which might be her Christmas present or scientific equipment or both. It was hard to tell sometimes.
She held the door for him and he dumped the pile on the kitchen table, before looking at her with a bright grin.
"Sarah Jane. Don't tell me you're spending Christmas alone. You can't be. It's Christmas." As though that were reason enough.
"Not any more, apparently," she said dryly, although she didn't mind as long as he didn't plan on dragging her to a party.
"You promised." He made it sound like a personal insult. "You were going to get on with your life."
"And I have. I've just come off a week of parties and social engagements. I drank like a fish, traded crazy stories, pulled at least a dozen crackers, and completed the trifecta of a pair of slippers, a candle, and the ubiquitous gift basket of tea or cocoa and mug at least twice over the course of the many gift swaps and grab bags I participated in this year. I've been the social butterfly, Doctor; tonight, I'm having a quiet night in." She couldn't resist a wicked smile. "I did also score one of Evelyn's chocolate cakes, if you'd like a piece."
"You know my every weakness." He strode over and engulfed her in a hug. "Am I intruding on your 'me time', then?"
"Don't be ridiculous. Take off your coat and stay." She stood back and studied him. After Canary Wharf, she'd done some investigating (and met Jack in the process) so she knew what had happened to Rose. She just didn't know how long ago it had been in his personal time line.
The Doctor draped his coat over one of the chairs a bit hesitantly, as though he wasn't sure if she wanted him there or was just being polite.
"What is all this, anyway?" She asked, noticing the pile had a rather enticing scent. It was an obvious question, but he didn't seem inclined to his usual mile-a-minute gabble. Well, his Christmas present would cheer him up, if nothing else did.
"An upgrade for your computer, and somewhere in the pile is your present. Which you can't open until morning."
Sarah made a great show of pouting and sulking, before asking, "So which of those smells like Indian take out?"
He smiled, "Oh, I nearly forgot, I brought dinner too." He dug through the mess and produced some foil trays, then started shoving aside some of the precarious heap so that they had space to eat. "I suppose we could save the cake for dessert. Evelyn did always make the best chocolate cake."
"Leave that. Why don't we eat in the living room? You can sort this out later," Sarah finished pointedly.
Sarah got up to find plates and silverware, while the Doctor wandered into the living room to open the containers. She followed him a few moments later. Sitting down beside him on the sofa, she couldn't resist commenting, "I saw you on the news earlier, or I should say that I saw the TARDIS. Saving the world again?"
"Yup. Happy Christmas." He reached over and touched her cheek. "I dunno. I spent last Christmas with Rose and her family and once the day was saved, Donna invited me to stay for dinner, but I...we barely knew each other and I felt like I'd be intruding. I thought...I wanted to celebrate with someone I cared about. That's the whole warm, fuzzy point, isn't it?"
"That's pretty much it. As popularised in sentimental Christmas specials the world over." She studied him carefully as he spooned some Chicken Masala onto her plate. "So, you came round because you've discovered the true meaning of Christmas, then."
Bright brown eyes met hers as he said innocently, "You think I have an ulterior motive."
Sarah smiled sweetly at him, "I just assumed this was a booty call, that the once and future Time Lord was just looking for a fuck buddy." He froze and she backed off. Maybe this had been a bad idea after all. She had clearly read too much into his visit. "Sorry, I'm being an idiot." She stood abruptly, moved over to the window, and pressed her forehead against the cold glass, wishing she could take back the words. No wonder he thought she had no other life.
"Sarah," he said softly.
She felt his hands on her shoulders and spoke quickly, "Maybe it was a bad idea, you coming round. You walk through the door and all of a sudden I'm trying to turn this into a relationship again. I'm clearly not as over you as either of us would like me to be and apparently I'm incapable of seeing us as just friends."
"You're not the only one. I wasn't aware I was being so transparent and you made it sound...my head's a mess right now and I'm not entirely over what happened with Rose and...I probably shouldn't be admitting this but all the time I was talking about letting you get on with your life, well, if I'd come back and found you had, I'd have been horribly jealous. Not that I had any right to be." His hands slipped from her shoulders to wrap around her body and pull her close. "I don't know if I'm here looking for comfort or nostalgia or absolution, I just wanted to be with you tonight, in your bed, if that was what you wanted, but I'd settle for just talking and laughing like we used to. I feel so old and tired right now; I need to remember it wasn't always that way."
She half turned her head to look at him, smiling suddenly, "I was teasing, Doctor. I think you overreacted to what was meant as a joke, and I guess I'm feeling sensitive about your emphasis on me getting on with my life. This whole week has been a nightmare of friends trying to get me out to 'be social' which seems to translate as 'you need a boyfriend or a girlfriend and I'm going to set you up with one'. And I'm horribly embarrassed about the way I acted when I ran into you and Rose."
He bent down and kissed the top of her head. "Shall we start again, Sarah? We used to be so much better at this."
Sarah touched his cheek. "Yeah, we did. But so much time has passed for both of us and it isn't the same relationship, no matter how easy it is to fall into the old ways." She pulled out of his embrace. "Maybe we should just continue eating and talking and see what happens."
"That might be a good idea." He followed her back to the sofa. "Shall I tell you about how I saved the world today?"
"Sounds good to me."
"You see, this bride appeared in the TARDIS out of nowhere..." They settled back down on the sofa and he continued telling her the story.
About halfway through their meal the Doctor brought up the subject of Christmas again. "You've got a tree - though how you managed to get that particular tree...."
"Computer with hypernet access. Universal Postal Service Next Day delivery. I've had it for years now. They used to be my main source for K-9 parts, until they stopped carrying parts to concentrate on newer models."
"O...kay. Moving on now. So you've a tree and decorations and Christmas cards, but where's your stocking, Sarah Jane? It isn't Christmas without a proper stocking with lots of small presents and sweets and a satsuma in the toe."
Sarah couldn't help rolling her eyes at him. "Stockings are no fun if you have to fill them yourself, and
I've never quite understood the lure of a single satsuma."
"Very useful things, satsumas. Saved the world with one, just last year." He absently kicked off his trainers, and started pulling off his socks. "One for you, one for me. This is supposed to be me discovering the True Meaning of Christmas, isn't it?" Somehow, he managed to speak in capital letters.
Sarah watched as he wandered over to the fireplace and attached them with the sonic screwdriver.
"There." He sat back down on the sofa and wiggled his toes at her. "Now you have to let me stay till morning."
"Have I said anything about kicking you out?" Sarah attacked her dinner again, considering how she would manage to fill his stocking while he wasn't looking.
The Doctor started stroking her leg with his bare foot.
Sarah wasn't even sure he was aware he was doing it. It was an old habit of his, and despite her little speech, she didn't actually mind. She did think she should draw his attention to it though. A wicked gleam appeared in her eyes. "You haven't changed, have you? No matter how young you look, you're still the same dirty old man you were when we first met." It wasn't often that she had him at a disadvantage.
He made an incoherent sound of protest, but to her relief he seemed to take this in the spirit she had intended, so she pressed on. "Oh, don't give me that. All the times you used pushing me out of danger as an excuse to cop a feel."
The Doctor found his voice again. "I don't remember you protesting. Or putting up much resistance, no matter where my hands ended up. You were actually rather enthusiastic, as I recall."
"I wasn't objecting at all, Doctor, I was just making a point," she said impishly before digging in to her dinner with relish. "Very good."
He looked at her suspiciously, before returning to his own meal.
Sarah kept the rest of the dinner conversation light, knowing that if she pushed him too far, food would become an afterthought; she was hungry and she knew she'd need the energy later on. After he finished the story, he started asking questions about her life and current investigations, which led to more stories.
Finally, she finished her meal and sat back with a sigh. "I have a proposition for you, Doctor."
He leaned forward with his arms on his knees, and eyed her speculatively. "Oh, and am I going to like this proposition, Sarah Jane?"
"I think so," she said suggestively. "I have a present for you in the kitchen, but you can only have it after I have mine."
The Doctor gave her a crestfallen look. "That wasn't what I was expecting."
"Come on, Doctor," Sarah wheedled, "a gift for a gift. Who knows, maybe it's something you'd really like." She stood up, dislodging his hand which had ended up on her thigh somehow, collected their empty plates and headed for the kitchen.
"I know what I'd like right now," he muttered just loud enough for her to hear as he followed with the leftover food.
She dropped the plates in the dishwasher, while he put the food in the fridge. His present was sitting right at the front of the fridge with his name on it. He couldn't miss it.
"I take it this is my present. Something that needs to be refrigerated." A note of speculation had crept into his voice. She'd known she could count on his curiosity.
When she turned round, he handed her a small box a little larger than a mobile phone. "Is it a deck of playing cards? An MP3 player? A fully-automatic hyper-energised deep cleaning unit?"
"I don't remember agreeing to this," the Doctor said, though he gave his present an experimental shake.
"Aren't you curious, Doctor?" she asked sweetly.
He glared at her. "Yes, curse you. Oh, alright, you can open your present now."
She grinned at him and plopped down beside him, pretending not to notice him easing his arm behind her shoulders. A spirit of perversity overtook her and she slowly and carefully removed the wrapping paper, drawing out the activity as long as she possibly could.
The Doctor drew circles on the back of her neck with his finger, and leaned over to whisper in her ear, "You always were a tease."
"And don't you love it." The paper finally off, she studied the plain white box she had revealed. "Jewellery?"
"Not even close."
There was nothing left to do but open the box. Lying there in a bed of cotton was a silver cylinder about four inches long. She studied it before carefully removing the top. Finally, she turned to him in bewilderment, "What is it?"
"A sonic lipstick. I thought it might be a little less obviously alien than a sonic screwdriver."
She gaped at him, "A sonic lipstick, why not a sonic vibrator and be done with it?" Now that she looked closer she could see the buttons. "So, this is the sonic equivalent of one of those tiny pink Swiss Army knives with a useless blade, tweezers, nail file and mirror." A note of sarcasm crept into her voice.
"Don't be ridiculous, Sarah, it's fully functional, built to the latest specs as my current model. I thought you might like it," he added wistfully. He brushed his lips against her shoulder, absently. "Don't you like it?"
He sounded so disappointed, she turned round and kissed him gently, not pulling away when he deepened the kiss, and his hands started wandering over her body. When he let her up for air, she stroked his cheek and said, "I love it. It's the most marvellous gift anyone has ever given me. Except for K-9. You must have had a time, making these up for all your former companions, though." She couldn't resist fishing.
"You know I didn't, any more than I gave them all K-9 units. Even Rose wouldn't have got one if I'd been able to get to her," he added softly, stroking her hair. "Now, have I built up your ego enough that you'll let me open my own present?" He gave her a look that implied that he wasn't just talking about the package on the table."
"I think so." She leaned against the table and watched him rip the paper off, looking for all the world like a schoolboy on Christmas morning.
"You gave me jars," he said in an odd tone, "filled with what exactly?"
"Taste it. That's what you do in this incarnation, isn't it?" She gave him a mischievous grin, this was going to be good.
He opened one of the jars and cautiously dipped a finger in the dark substance, watching her suspiciously, "You're sure this isn't poisonous?"
"Would I do that to you?"
"Sometimes, I wonder." The Doctor licked his finger absently, in a way that caused Sarah's stomach to tighten. "Buttercream. More specifically Evelyn's buttercream recipe. I'd know it anywhere. The question is why give me three jars of the stuff? It's lovely, but not much use without the cake. And how did you persuade her to give you just the buttercream?"
"I gave K-9 a sample and he analysed it and gave me a recipe. As for the rest, you usually have much more imagination than that, Doctor. Or is it that you've just lost your taste for chocolate-covered human?"
He stared at her and then at the jars. "Oh. Yes, that would be a very good use for it. Sarah Jane Smith, you've outdone yourself. Bedroom?" He gave her a very bright smile, and reached for her hand.
"Of course, Doctor." Sarah let him lead her there. He didn't seem to be in a rush.
When they reached the bedroom, the Doctor hesitated. "This will make a mess of the sheets."
"I'd have to wash them, anyway, Doctor." Sarah pulled the quilt off the bed and dropped it on a chair, before starting to undress.
The Doctor stopped her. "Let me." His voice sounded a little husky. He dropped the jars on to the bed, caught the edge of her shirt and slowly started pulling it up.
It was torturous for Sarah. She knew from previous experience that the Doctor could draw out foreplay for hours if he wanted to and the absent brush of his fingers as he inched the material up her body made it hard to think.
It didn't help that he was talking as he did it, asking her questions about the parties she had attended and what she was working on now, interspersed with absent comments about how much he had missed this and how beautiful she was. She managed somehow, to make semi-coherent replies. The only way she'd ever found to make him shut up during sex, was to give him something else to do with his mouth.
As the edge of the shirt reached her breasts, he bent down and trailed kisses down her now bare stomach, causing her to whimper. "Sarah," he said tipping his head up to look at her, "I'm just getting started."
"You're driving me crazy, Doctor."
"Isn't that the point?" His eyes were so bright and his fingers were now drawing symbols over the fabric of her bra. Suddenly he stood up and pulled the shirt over her head and dropped it on the chair, before reaching behind her to unhook her bra. His fingers traced their way back to her breasts as he slowly pulled off her bra then cupped her breasts rubbing his thumbs in circles over her nipples.
Finally Sarah had had enough. "My turn," she said, as she twisted agilely away from him, and circled behind him.
"I thought my present was chocolate-covered Sarah. Come back here," the Doctor protested, though he made no move to stop her.
"It's no fun if you're fully dressed when you do it. Besides, I haven't forgotten how much this turns you on. You'll thank me later when you're spared the need to fumble with your zip." She reached up to stroke the back of his neck with her thumbs, before reaching around to tug off his jacket. One finger traced down his spine and she added, "And the more aroused you are, the less you're apt to drag this on for hours."
"Would I do that to you, Sarah Jane?"
"You've been known to." She slipped her arms around his body and started unbuttoning his shirt, pressing her body against his back. She knew better than to try this from the front; his hands would be all over her body and she wouldn't be able to think straight. She took it slowly. Tuning out his chatter, she found each button by feel and then finally pulled the shirt out of his trousers and off.
Once it was lying on the heap of clothing on the chair, she took great joy in returning to the same position and rubbing her bare breasts against his back, making him groan with pleasure before she eased her hands down to his belt.
"...so there we were in Scotland and there were ohhhh."
"There were what?" It was always a good sign when he lost the thread of his monologue. Having undone his belt, she set to work on the button of his trousers, then the zip. Not being able to see what she was doing gave her an excuse to 'accidentally' stroke the growing bulge.
"Werewolves and Queen Victoria," he blurted out. "Sarah, if you keep this up, I'm not going to make it to the chocolate, and I was so looking forward to that." He pushed her hands away and finished stripping off his trousers and boxers quickly, before turning to face her. "Satisfied?"
"Very nice." She impishly reached a hand to touch his hard cock, but he caught her wrists before she could.
"My Christmas present, remember? No more touching." He held her securely and undid her jeans with the other, stripping them off expertly before pushing aside the jars and easing her down on to the bed. "Do I need to bind your wrists or will you behave?"
Sarah didn't bother to answer. He'd already found one of his old scarves and neatly tied her to the bed with it. She could have broken free if she wanted, but where was the fun in that? He'd started up the story of Queen Victoria and the werewolves again, but she wasn't really paying attention at this point.
Once she was bound to his satisfaction, the Doctor eased off her knickers, running caressing fingers down her legs as he did so, causing her to tremble in anticipation. He put two of the jars on the dresser, out of the way, and opened the third, scooping up a generous helping with his finger and dropping it on her bare stomach, causing her to gasp. The butter cream was still chilled from the fridge and colder than his fingers usually were.
Sarah gripped the scarf tightly as he drew some experimental swirls around her navel absently chattering on about chocolate around the galaxy. She hoped he wasn't planning to quiz her later.
He took another helping of the butter cream and started drawing on her.
It took Sarah a moment to recognise the graceful circles and curves of Gallifreyan writing from this vantage and she broke into his monologue about the merits of Velan's chocolate versus Sandraval's, to ask what he was writing.
"My Sarah Jane," he said softly, "I'm making you all mine. Being horribly possessive." He dotted each nipple with chocolate, then drew concentric circles around her breasts. "You're so beautiful, Sarah, and I miss you so much, always. No one's ever been able to fill the Sarah-shaped hole in my life." He continued chattering as he moved on to her arms decorating them with signs and patterns, then did the same to her legs, kneeling between them as he covered one leg and then the other.
Sarah could feel the controlled tension in his hands now, and was half-surprised when he didn't skip ahead and take her then and there.
Instead the Doctor shifted again and stared at his work for a moment before putting the jar aside and after telling her once again how beautiful she was, took one of her hands and started licking the chocolate off her fingers. He moved on to her hand, a look of ecstasy on his face, then traced up her arm, licking her clean before moving on to the other arm.
She lay back and closed her eyes; her body starting to tremble again at the sensation of his tongue on her skin. By the time he had finished with her second arm, she was whimpering, but she didn't care.
He moved on to her breasts, following the circles he had drawn and ending at the nipples which he licked and sucked clean, causing her whimpers to become moans. Suddenly he pulled away and she gasped in disappointment and anticipation.
By the time she thought to open her eyes to see what he was doing, he'd moved down to suck on her toes, and then slowly move up one leg a few inches, then switch to the other. She found his stops and starts almost unbearable and told him so.
"Didn't anyone tell you that patience is a virtue?" the Doctor asked, and she resisted the urge to tell him to shut up and get back to work, knowing he'd just become contrary.
She didn't know how he was holding out. His hard cock occasionally brushed against her skin, leaving her no doubt as to the state of his arousal, but he made no effort to speed up the proceedings.
When he reached her thighs, he shifted back to lick her belly clean, causing her to writhe and twitch beneath him. He slowly worked his way around first her stomach, then her thighs, then back to her stomach again, inching closer to where she really wanted - no, needed - him to touch her.
The Doctor licked the last of the chocolate from her inner thighs, then pulled back for a moment, and Sarah almost sobbed her disappointment. She watched, biting her tongue as he reached for the jar...he wasn't going to put her through all of that again, was he?
He didn't. Instead he idly stroked her clit with his chocolate covered finger, making her whimper and beg for him to go faster. He took his time though, coating the whole area carefully with a thick layer of butter cream, before bending down with a wicked smile to start licking and teasing her clit.
Sarah grabbed the scarf tightly again, trying not to scream her pleasure at what he was doing with his tongue, as he'd let her get just so close to her climax before pulling back again. She watched as he dipped his finger in the chocolate again and then felt him stroking her open, and easing it inside, causing her hips to buck uncontrollably, as he worked his finger inside her, still teasing her with his tongue. Suddenly, she felt him withdraw his finger, but before she could gather her wits to protest, his tongue was there instead, teasing inside of her and she couldn't take it any more. She let loose the screams she was holding back as her climax washed over her.
Afterwards she lay back in a daze, barely noticing the Doctor shifting position, and prodding for entry against her still throbbing flesh. His thrust set off a fresh round of tremors in her body, and he lowered himself against her, his fingers reaching up to fumble with the knots in the scarf. He lay there almost still, until he finally freed her wrists and her hands came down automatically to catch on his shoulders.
She wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him down into a long kiss, tasting herself mixed with chocolate on his tongue.
Finally, he started thrusting in a fast rhythm. He was too far gone to be talkative now, so aside from sighs and moans and the squeak of the bedsprings, there was silence in the room.
Sarah savoured it all. She had almost forgotten how good this felt. Her hands crept lower, to catch at his hips, as she encouraged him to go faster and harder. The cool brush of his body against hers felt like heaven, as his rhythm grew more irregular. He thrust deeply and moaned her name as he came, sending her over the edge again.
When she woke, not even realising she'd dozed off, she opened her eyes to see him lying beside her absently stroking her hair.
"Awake now?" he asked lazily.
"Yes. Brrr. It's cold in here."
He started to reach for her, then stopped. "Not exactly a warm body, am I?"
"Warm enough. But if we took a shower we could change the chocolate-covered sheets and curl up under the quilt," she hinted. "I'll scrub your back if you'll scrub mine."
"How could I turn down an invitation like that?" The Doctor was already pulling her off the bed towards the bathroom.
Sarah eluded his grasp just long enough to strip the sheets off and throw them in the laundry basket. One less task for when they returned.
She was suddenly thankful the house had a decent-sized shower. That had never been an issue in the TARDIS.
When she entered the bathroom, he'd already started the shower. Years of experimentation had established an optimal temperature, that was comfortable for both of them. The warm water felt good on her skin, and she made a sudden move to snatch the flannel away from him.
"Hey, you're the one who was covered in chocolate." He pouted in protest.
"But you had plenty of time to explore my body. It's my turn now." She gave him a predatory grin.
"Maybe, I should have let you play with the chocolate," the Doctor said speculatively as she started on his back.
"You've got two and a half jars left. I imagine arrangements could be made." He was so thin, this incarnation, but she hadn't forgotten where to touch him. She swirled the flannel across his back hearing his breath catch in response.
"Is that an invitation to come round and...Sarah," he groaned
"Come round and Sarah?" she couldn't help teasing.
"You're driving me crazy and you know it. You always...." He turned around to face her, his arousal evident, and pulled the flannel from her hands. "My turn. Now."
Sarah didn't argue. She did wonder if she'd been wrong about him and Rose, or if this new body was just oversensitive to certain stimulations. Just as before, his control had broken much earlier than she had expected.
He stroked her roughly with the flannel, ostensibly cleaning up the traces of chocolate, but in a manner that was more aimed at arousing her quickly than anything else. He brushed the flannel over her already stiff nipples, then abruptly slid it between her legs, caressing her clit.
She was already wet, anyway, and not just from the shower, and the extra stimulation was almost too much. "Doctor, please."
The flannel dropped to the floor of the shower, as he pressed her against a wall catching up her legs in a practised movement.
She wrapped her legs around his waist as he thrust inside her, filled her. She reached her arms round his neck and pulled him down for a rough kiss, and she felt him let go of her legs, trusting the wall to keep her in position as he established a hard, fast rhythm. On the rare occasions she pulled away for a breath...he was too far gone to remember she needed to breathe...she could hear him moan her name in protest.
Sarah was lost in sensation, tongue and cock and the feel of the water rushing down her body. She came quick and hard, gasping his name as her body arched in pleasure.
It was enough to send him over the edge, and he screamed his pleasure as he came inside her.
They stood like that for a moment, too limp to move. Finally, the Doctor brushed Sarah's lips lightly and she managed a lazy smile. She slowly unhooked her legs, not absolutely certain she could stand on her own. "Better?" she asked him.
"Yeah." He stroked her face. "I needed that more than I realised. And it's been a long time since I've been with someone who knows just where to touch me."
"Rose?" The question slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it. "Not that it's any of my business."
He picked up the flannel, and started scrubbing the last traces of chocolate off her body, before he answered. "For Rose, alien meant I was a little weird. I looked human enough and she seemed to think that having two hearts was the extent of the biological differences. She'd tease me about having cold hands, but it never occurred to her that she might be too warm sometimes. Of course," he added in a lighter tone, "the worst mistake I ever made was falling asleep in a bed between two humans. Woke up feeling like I was being boiled alive. There, I think that got all of it." He turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around her before taking one and starting to dry himself off.
"I promise never to suggest a threesome then." She smiled at him.
"Oh, the threesome itself wasn't bad, but there was a heavy blanket involved and both the humans were using me as a pillow. An hour of contained body heat. I shocked them both by waking up screaming, shoving them both off of me, and getting out of that bed and into a cold shower as quickly as possible. You look all squeaky clean now." He took both towels and hung them on the rack.
"Squee, squee." Sarah squeaked at him, before taking his hand and walking slowly back to the bedroom with him. "So did you traumatise them for life? Scientific curiosity, mind you."
He grinned at her, "I don't think it's possible to traumatise Jack sexually, but Rose...I don't know. It's like I'd explain these things to her and she'd nod, but it wouldn't properly sink in and she'd continue acting like I was just a human with minor differences." He caught himself. "It's odd, talking about her like this. Losing her to the alternate world hurt, but she was a better friend than a lover, and Donna pointed out today that I need someone to keep me in check and she had stopped doing that. I miss her."
"You miss all your companions, Doctor. The relationships might be different, but they're all special to you." Sarah resisted the urge to point out that at least he'd said good-bye to Rose. Now was not the time. Instead she busied herself putting fresh sheets on the bed.
The Doctor spread the quilt, then turned back a corner, with a grin and an 'after you Alphonse' gesture causing Sarah to giggle as she slid beneath the cool sheets. He snuggled in beside her, wrapping his arms around her and murmuring in her ear, "I came back this time."
"Yes, you did," Sarah replied softly. She lay there and listened as his breathing became slow and regular. Enough sex and the Doctor would respond like any human male and fall asleep; a nap that would be both longer and deeper than his usual catnaps.
Once she was certain he was asleep, Sarah quietly slipped from the bed, grabbing her dressing gown and walking softly from the room. Heading to the attic, she started rummaging. What do you give the packrat who has everything? Of course, the Doctor would probably be thrilled by the sort of cheap toys found in crackers, so she didn't feel the need to be too inspired.
She considered the items she had bought during her periodic 'gift exchange shopping sprees', picking out the ones she thought he would have the most fun with. A gyroscope, prism, laser pointer, travel clock that told the time in binary numbers and a few other gadgets and scientific novelties. She started to leave, but stopped and added a ball of string to the pile. Heading to the kitchen she added a packet of biscuits and a chocolate bar, along with a satsuma from the fridge to her pile. That would be enough to fill the sock, she thought.
K-9 was plugged in in the hall, recharging. After a few incidents, she had programmed him to ignore her midnight wanderings unless she spoke directly to him. She was grateful for that now. When she entered the living room, she noticed that the sock he'd designated as hers was already full, and she resisted the urge to peek inside. He must have filled it when she had dozed off earlier. She quickly filled the sock and returned to the bedroom. Nestling in beside him, it wasn't long before she fell asleep.
Sarah awoke the next morning alone in the bed. After a moment's panic, she realised that the Doctor was more likely to be puttering about her house than have left without notice, especially after all his fuss about Christmas stockings.
When she reached the kitchen, she was rewarded by the smell of coffee and the sight of a clean kitchen table. And the Doctor in shirtsleeves and a frilly apron which she'd once received as a joke gift, making flapjacks. "That look suits you."
He preened at her. "It's the latest alien fashion. Did I mention I spent most of yesterday being called Martian boy?" He was still barefoot and his jacket was slung over one of the chairs.
She giggled. "I think I'll start calling you that."
"Then I'll start calling you SJ. Why should that Josh fellow have all the fun?"
"Don't. You. Dare!"
He smirked at her and showed off his flapjack flipping ability.
"Very nice." She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. "Did you finish whatever it was you were planning to do to my computer or just shove everything under the table?"
"All done. It should be faster and there are a few new features. I increased the speed of your hypernet connection and when I noticed that you seemed to have several hundred gigabytes of interstellar television downloaded to your computer, I set up your telly to receive Interstellar Freeview." He was preening again.
"You're the bestest fuckbuddy evar," she teased. "So much better than those other guys with their flowers, chocolates, and romantic dinners." She dug into the plate of flapjacks he placed in front of her. "And you're domestic too. Any girl would think you were the perfect catch."
"There are other guys?" he said in mock anger, "and I don't do domestic. This is an aberration." His tone turned serious. "I miss you. If I asked you again would you come travelling with me?"
"Getting on with my life, remember? Plus you just made those nifty new improvements to my computer. And as I told you earlier, I'm in the middle of an investigation." Sarah squeezed his hand. "I told a good friend once that the world-savers were all gone and it was our job now, but I didn't realise then that I was one of them, and had been for a very long time. I've graduated to saving the world on my own, Doctor, go off and find someone new to show your wonders to."
The Doctor stared at her for a moment before asking, "But you don't mind if I come round occasionally, do you, Sarah? I don't want to interfere with your life, so answer honestly."
"Whatever else happens, we're still friends Doctor. And more, perhaps. There might someday be someone else, but for right now my life is about me, and if you want to be a part of that, maybe we can make it work somehow." She got up to stick the plates in the dishwasher. "Now, you insisted on stockings."
"That I did." He allowed her to drag him into the living room. "I want you to know that I'm very impressed with your stealth in filling my sock."
She grinned at him. "All I did was fuck you till you fell asleep like any other male. The rest was easy. Actually," she added sweetly, "you were quite easy too."
He smirked at her as he pulled both socks down, and handed one to her. He then started rummaging through his own, like a little kid, just as Sarah had expected.
Sarah smiled inwardly and focused on her own stocking. Chocolate from Velan, a small antigrav ball (will levitate 20 stone), a pair of gloves knit from ibexie fur, fresh strawberries, and other weird and thoughtful gifts. And of course a satsuma. She didn't understand his fixation with them, but it was no worse than the scarf fetish.
When she looked up again he'd built an odd looking device with the gyroscope, prism, string, and laser pointer and she felt vindicated by the look of pure delight on his face.
He noticed her staring, "This is brilliant. Thank you." He reached up to kiss her and the whole structure fell, as did his face.
"You can rebuild it, Doctor."
"Yes, I suppose I can. Another life lesson?" He asked lightly.
"Quote from bad seventies TV show, though I suppose there's no actual difference." She snuggled against him. "How long are you staying?"
"Maybe till afternoon, if you don't mind. I'm not ready to leave just yet." He wrapped an arm around her.
"That's good, because I'm not quite ready to let you go."
The Doctor looked at her with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and said gleefully, "This is going to be the best Christmas ever! We could have a snowball fight and roast marshmallows and sing carols and...."
Sarah wondered if she'd created a monster, but she suspected whatever else happened, it would indeed be the best Christmas ever.