Hey guys! Just a little one-shot to help clear up some writers block on Full Circle. Takes place after The Poison Sky. Please pay CLOSE attention to the rating.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, the show, the channel, etc.

She was fine. Really she was. Planet saved from choking to death off of killer exhaust? Check. Aliens bent on using Planet Earth for their own clone breeding grounds thwarted? Check. Smelly clone mini- Martha done away with? Double Check. Heart rate able to return to normal? No. Not check at all.

She'd called him back to Earth. She'd needed him. The entire planet did. Now she was paying the price. Just like the good ol' days, yeah? He walked around her planet, her job as if he was a god. If she was to be completely honest with herself, if she hadn't known him personally, hadn't seen the utter humanity of her alien Doctor, she'd believe he was a god, too. Lord was even in his title, so lording his power and mercy over all must come with the job description. Unfortunately, her tithe was her heart. She paid her dues in love and complete devotion. And it still didn't seem as if he saw.

It had been her nightly ritual back on the TARDIS, and she thought she'd out grown it. Between Tom and living normal life, she'd outgrown it- or so she thought. And for the first time in months, she came home after a harrowing day, stripped down to her knickers and curled up in her bed. Doctor Martha Jones cried, openly and loudly. She sobbed big, wet tears of pain and relief and love. She shed the weight of the dreadful day, the peril, and the choking Earth. She shed tears she though had long since dried for her unrequited love.

Back on the TARDIS, she did this almost every night. After a completely draining day- which most days happened to be- and after the swell of emotions she'd built up threatened to strangle her alive if she didn't let them out, the strong, confident, independent, five-foot-two-and-not-scared-of-anything Martha Jones cried as uncontrollably as an infant in the cocoon of blankets. And here she was again, alone in her dark flat weeping. Yes she was warm and safe, for which she was thankful but her heart, which had only just been pieced back together, was shattered once again.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been laying engulfed in her blankets. She hadn't even heard him come in. He always was light on his feet in his trainers. However, she did feel his lips on her forehead and the dip in her mattress as he sat on its edge. She shifted the covers to look up at him. Her eyes were slightly swollen from crying and her make-up had been reduced to simple smudges of color. To him, she'd never looked more beautiful. The Doctor's doctor: never taking time for herself. Her eyes questioned him, though she didn't speak a word.

"I dropped Donna off. She's with her family." He trailed off, unsure of how to say what came next. All of the unsolicited emotions she'd brought about were unsettling, but he'd had time to think after she left him. He owed her an apology and so much more. He owed her his life 10 times over. More than that he owed her his love. He'd always loved her, but only after she had left him alone with his own thoughts had he come to the realization of just how deep that love ran. It wasn't just the love for a friend risking her life, it was so much more. And it overwhelmed him more than he could stand to see her small and, for the first time, inside her fortress of covers, broken.

"Martha," he started, not quite sure where to begin, if he even had the right. He gazed into watery pools of brown, and before either of them knew what was happening, his lips found hers. It was only lightly, but conveyed all that he'd meant to say. Soon, she was kissing him back- the reward he knew he didn't deserve. She, however, was getting hers. Martha pushed herself up, so that she was sitting, all the while deepening the kiss. She never missed a beat when he slipped his tongue in her mouth.

She poured all of the emotion she felt into the kiss, their tongues dueling heatedly as her anger and desire poured out of her. By the time they broke the kiss, they were both out of breath, their lungs screaming for air. His eyes shown through the dark, pinning her to the mattress and daring her to move. In them she saw a sight all too familiar, the legendary rage of the Time Lord. But there was something else, a softness and a struggle. Her own desire was mimicked in his gaze- the lust of the Time Lord. Suddenly, she was breathless for a completely different reason.

He pressed her into the mattress, slowly laying her back down with his body weight and leaving a trail of kisses from her lips to her jaw down to the sweet spot on her neck. Her moans were a sweet symphony to him and he was hungry for more. It was only after she shrugged the covers from her body did he take her attire into consideration. A black lace bra and matching knickers were her only adornment aside from her engagement ring. But then again, what was a piece of jewelry when matters of the heart were at stake? He returned to her neck. "You're absolutely beautiful, Martha Jones." She simply moaned in response. He set to finish the trail of kisses that he started down her body. His hands roamed, gripping and pulling as he made his way down from her neck to her chest to her stomach. Her hands were busy gripping the headboard of her queen sized bed for fear that if she let go, she'd float out into space from sheer ecstasy.

The he kissed lower still, intoxicated by the scent of her arousal. He stopped only briefly at her waistband. "I love you, Martha. And now I'm going to show you just how much." He found her core, hot and moist and seeping through the lace of her knickers. He relished her raspy moan from his position between her legs, which she had instinctually spread for him. He found himself insatiable when he hooked long fingers through the lace and pulled it down to her ankles. His usual intellect replaced by greed and complete carnal instinct as he looked down at her molten core. He pushed her legs up quickly draping them over his shoulders, knowing that they were still trapped at the ankles by the wet, silky lace. She writhed in his grasp and he gripped her hips and ran his tongue down her inner thigh. He reached her wet center and without warning [not that one was needed] devoured her with an expert tongue. He licked and swirled his tongue around the little bud and listened to the sweet music they made: her moans paired with his licking and sucking was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard.

Martha was reeling. Her mind was clouded. She couldn't think about where it was all coming from, all she knew was that her Doctor was making love to her and she wasn't going to question it. It was better than she could have imagined, she'd later admit. He told her he loved her. Those words alone were enough to sate her arousal, but he gave her even more. She was reaching her peak. The Doctor had sped up his pace, taking long licks from her wet opening to the very top of her clit and back down. She shook with desire as she felt her climax approach. White heat rolled up inside of her, numbing the tips of her toes and fingertips. Her hips were flexing against his awaiting mouth of their own volition. She was ready. He felt it too and suddenly, he had to feel her. The urge was so strong that he practically ripped her knickers from around one of her ankles and he forced her thighs as far apart as they could go. He inserted one long finger, then another as she cursed. He reached her inner depths, curled and twisted his fingers as she shouted inarticulately what sounded like his name.

She gripped him from the inside out. Her fingers were now tangled in his brown shock of hair, raking at his scalp. A few short pumps later and she was there. Unseeing and able to hear nothing but white noise, she came hard again and again, her moans ringing clear through the midnight silence. He looked in her eyes, licking one soaking wet finger after the other. Without a word, he kissed her tenderly and she enjoyed her taste on his lips. While she recuperated, he freed himself from his dark pinstriped pants and shirt- his jacket and tie long since gone.

He lost himself again, this time inside of her. He pumped into her almost violently as if he could somehow thrust his way straight to her heart. She enjoyed every minute of it. She was his and he was hers- if only for a night, longer if they could help it. He had her pressed against the headboard, driving her into it as if his life depended on it, all the while repeating his mantra. "I love you… God, I love you so much". She felt him, long and thick inside of her, hitting every internal wall and she felt the truth in his words. The way he showered her with those 3 little words as if he was making up for every day she'd suffered…For every day he'd missed. He felt her tighten around him as her hands found their way back in his hair. She'd already clawed his back into a pulp in absolute euphoria as he made love to her recklessly, rough and unbridled and raw. He'd fucked her into oblivion, just the way she wanted it; just the way she needed. The way she deserved. And he'd given her his all including his composure. Skin to skin, they were getting to know each other on a level that 2 years in the TARDIS never could have provided. They came together until there was nothing left to give – both silently deciding to save all of the hard questions for the morning.

Hope you guys like it!