Solider Boy [attn: Martha, Open]

Ross stepped out of the jeep, onto the UNIT base's turf, carrying in his hand a small over the shoulder bag. He was wearing his UNIT trousers and boots and a white tee shirt, despite the cold weather, it was just easier. He nodded and smiled to the Private who had driven him from the train station, and swung the bag onto his left shoulder, stepping out quickly towards the medic's base.

He was shown to a seat in the clean building and told to remain sat until called upon. A strict looking nurse soon marched up-to him. From her badge he could see that she held no rank, but still gave a quick salute, in politeness.

"Private Ross Jenkins, Ma'am. Reporting for a medical check up." The nurse rolled her eyes.

"Aren't you all?" She ticked something on her list. "From Operation Blue Sky?" he nodded with a small grimace to her. "You'll be the only one today. A doctor will see you soon."

He sat back down and tried to get comfortable on the plastic chair. Looking around him he saw a batch of privates obviously waiting for an initial check up, and a few others sporting minor injuries, he was glad that his own wound wasn't in an obvious place, he didn't really want people guessing how he got burned.

He felt like he was being frog marched to his own execution here, as he hurried down the endless white corridors, this lady really wasn't into chit-chat.

He was pointed through the door, giving Martha a quick salute with a slight wince "Ma'am" he stood at ease awaiting her instructions as what he was to do next. He looked over her face briefly before looking to just above her head, ready to deal with the sneering and huge ego most UNIT doctors seemed to have. He should know, he'd been being treated by them since he was a baby.

His glance was quick, but slow enough to notice the pretty features and the wide smile, he couldn't help but grin a little.

Martha could the footsteps of two people heading for her door and she turned back around. A young boy with bright blue eyes stared back at her. A winced Ma'am left his lips before he moved his gaze away from hers. Her smile never once left her mouth as she stood and walked towards him.

"Don't salute," she replied kindly and reached her hand out towards him. "I'm just a doctor," she added, the smile this present on her face.

She had to admit it, the young boy was handsome. His eyes sparkled back at her with protected kindness and his brown hair laid flat against his forehead, not obsucured by the awful red berats.

He couldn't help but smile. "Like the last person who told me that your still superior to me, and apparently a rarity here." He took her extended hand and shook it. "Most doctors round here expect a full parade and salute when they walk into a room"

She was pretty, really pretty, but he shouldn't be think about that when he was about to take his shirt off to be examined. "Doctor…?" he said softly. "As you know I'm Private Ross Jenkins."

"and what do you want me to do?" He asked with a sly grin. He meant medically, but he wouldn't mind making her blush, he knew her face from somewhere and struggled to place it, but that wouldn't stop him.

"Like the last person who told me that your still superior to me, and apparently a rarity here."

Martha couldn't help but feel the warmth flush through her body when Private Jenkins took her hand. She stared into his eyes for a moment then shook herself mentally. She was a professional. She was a doctor and she was his superiour. Most of all, she had a fiancee. A fiancee who was half across the country.

"Most doctors round here expect a full parade and salute when they walk into a room"

Martha blinked, freeing herself from the thoughts that run through her head. She had a job to do.

"Well, I'm not most doctors," Martha replied softly, adverting her eyes from him.

"Doctor…?" he said softly. "As you know I'm Private Ross Jenkins."

"It's Jones, Doctor Martha Jones," she replied, orderly. "Yes, I know," she replied turning around only briefly to reach for the clipboard with his information on it.

"and what do you want me to do?"

When Martha turned back around to answer his question, a sly grin had appeared on his lips. She felt the warmth fill her body once more, starting from the pit of her stomach spreading to her cheeks, making them a dark rosy color. She shook herself mentally once more. She looked down at her clipboard once more.

"Seeing your chart says your were hit by a laser gun somewhere near the shoulder," she replied, reading her charts. "Umm...please take off your shirt?" she asked, still keeping her eyes on the chart.

"Well, I'm not most doctors,"

He smiled at that. No she wasn't. She was gorgeous with a bloody PHD. He couldn't help but notice her blushing, and god that was enough to send his heart racing. He was on little exercise, gentle stretches and no sex or anything beyond a quick kiss from his last doctor to avoid muscle strains and straining his heart, and this, right now was torture, but it'd be a heart attack in heaven.

"Umm...please take off your shirt?"

"Been a while since a gorgeous lady told me to do that." He grinned at her again, enjoying her blush. He slowly peeled his shirt off with a little struggle, and averted his eyes from her, awaiting her reaction to the sight before her.

A burn stretched across the right side of his chest, from the left hand bottom side, twisting up past his collar bone and over his shoulder a little. The skin was pink and yellow, swirling as if a liquid round a point where the main impact had been just over where his right nipple used to be. In some spots mismatched skin from a graph still looked wrong, and three wounds each about two inches long were stitched up from the operation that had saved his life.


One set of stitching was different and more recent then the rest from where he had chased his dog in Cardiff, and pretty much collapsed into another man's arms. The remains of a tattoo was twisted into the mix. A green comet with the UNIT insignia, and a running greyhound with a red sheet with 40 written on it was distorted nearly beyond recognition.

He hoped she wouldn't shy away, or gasp, or even worse scream, it was horrific looking. And the last doctor had made it quite clear that it was as bad as everyone one else tried to convince him it wasn't. He looked down twisting his head away from her a little, stretching the damaged skin showing where the lost and wasted muscle in his shoulder and chest used to go, now looked like a hollowed out section compared to the buff other side. He didn't want to see her reaction.

"Been a while since a gorgeous lady told me to do that."

She once again felt the blush return to her cheeks. She didn't not look away this time when he started pulling his white shirt over his head. The skin on his muscled stomach looked untouched. She tugged at the neck of her black tee-shirt. The room was suddenly becoming to hot to breathe. She moved the clip of her badge off her lab coat and placed it on the band of her trousers. She shrugged the rough lab coat off and laid it back against the chair she had been sitting in when he arrived.

When she turned back around, she took a slow intake of breath. The wound was worse then the others doctors had been letting on. She had seen worse on her travels during "The Year That Never Was", but she hadn't expected such a young boy to be so badly scared. While most of the soldiers come out of with cuts, scraps and bruises, it looked like he had been through hell and back.

She turned and reached for the plastic gloves. When she approched him, she motioned for him to take a spot on the table behind him. She slipped the cold gloves on her hands then rubbed them together to warm them up. Reaching out, she traced the scaring tissue softly with fingers.

Controlled thats what here reaction was. Measured to a degree.

He sat back on the table and closed his eyes. Noticing she was removing her lab coat. /Focus grannies in bikinis grannies in bikinis\ He flinched slightly to her touch and looked down at her. The curiosity on her face.

"Don't piss potatoes off." As much as he joked about it he hadn't been able to eat a baked potato since Operation Blue Sky. He tried to smile but it cracked a little, and never reached his eyes. "Not when they've got laser guns."

He leant his head back and closed his eyes, he couldn't help but tense against her, memories flooding back to him. His mates dying around him, the smell of roasted flesh. The doctor screaming in his ear, then black.

She wanted to smile when he flinched under her touch. In his eyes, she could see him trying to concertrate on something else but her. She moved her fingers across the senstive skin where his right nipple had been, making sure the skin was repairing right and half for her amusement to watch him squirm underneath her touch. No one had down that in awhile, not even Tom before he left for Africa.

"Don't piss potatoes off."

She couldn't help but smile even if his own smile didn't reach his beautiful eyes.

"Not when they've got laser guns."

She watched him lay his back against the wall and close his eyes. Martha then felt the change in his body when she moved her hand towards his shoulder. He was remembering, she knew the body language very well. The awful memories flooding back when she couldn't help it. Maybe he needed someone to talk to about it. She didn't know but it might help. She let her hand rest his shoulder, softly but not enough to hurt him.

"They will lessen," she replied, keeping her eyes on his face. "They will still hurt a bit, but I promise they will lessen over time. I should know," she added, turning her arm over to show the scar she had gotten when traveling through China durning "the Year That Never Was".

As she spoke hr pushed it away all of it, concentrating on her touch, and then regretting it. It was his turn to blush now. He got the impression she was enjoying this more then she should be. /Naked grannies\ he shuddered, opening his eyes.

He looked at her arm. Tempted to reach out and touch but not daring too.

"What happened?" He asked simply, pushing everything else to the back of his mind and focusing on her deep brown eyes. So full of life and hidden pain.

She shouldn't be doing this but it felt so good. Even though the skin under hand was scared, it was filled with warmth. Martha watched him move his eyes to her arm and she felt naked in front of him. No one but Tom knew she had the scar, not even the Doctor knew she had it.

"What happened?"

She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the memory wash over. She had been in China for a week when she had gotten this scar. If she hadn't know what to do to keep from getting an infection, it could have been worse. She really couldn't tell him how she got it. Tom didn't even know how she got the scar.

"Battle scars," she replied softly. "Like your own. Like I said I'm not your ordinary doctor," she added, her voice low.

Her moved her hand across his scar once more then started to pull it away.

He reached out his hand, tracing her scar with a single finger, watching her face closely, unblinkingly ready to react and pull away. His fingertip brushing across the smooth surface of her skin.

"Right pair we are." He breathed deeply, feeling her retract her hand. He couldn't help but want to reach out to her. He knew about two people closely one he doubted he'd ever talk to again, and the other was off being a hero in some far off place. "Sat here comparing scars like a couple of war vets."

He was still looking into her face, the glazed look in her eyes, her slight frown as she was lost in thought. Her beauty was hypnotic to him. He looked down at her gloved hands, and couldn't help but notice the lump and band.

"Who's the lucky guy, and which super-hero is he?" He asked jokingly. Only someone extraordinary could deserve her.

As he traced the scar with a single finger, she felt the familar warmth return to the pit of her stomach. Her breathing etched when she begin to pull her hand away from his scar.

"Right pair we are."

She was beginning to see a pattern. First the Doctor, then Tom and know this young Private staring back at her like he would see into her soul. He knew what it was like to survive a war. She had been lying to herself for the last year and lying to one person she was suppose to love. How were they a pair? She was awful and misleading.

"Sat here comparing scars like a couple of war vets."

She noticed he noticed her frown. Her stomach seemed to fall on its own when he looked down at her hand.

"Who's the lucky guy, and which super-hero is he?"

She breathed uneasily, his hand still resting against her arm.

"Tom Milligan," she breathed out. "He's a doctor in Africa. He asked me to marry him before he left six months ago," she finished.

The heat in the room was becoming unbearable.

"Between the two of you, you'll save the world no doubt." He smiled at her. "He's lucky to have you."

He looked at her face, she seemed extremely uncomfortable. He thought it be best to take this somewhere more in her control. "So what do you say Doctor, can I have some of these stitches out yet?" He gave her a boyish grin. "I've got the whole of Cardiff waiting until I can act normal again you know, and the worlds biggest pile of papers that need alphabetizing and filing."

He drew his arm back. She was engaged, and off limits. He wasn't going to push a nearly married women to feeling uncomfortable. He gave her a smile though keeping eye contact with her, but not giving her any intense looks, and hoping not to receive any.

"Between the two of you, you'll save the world no doubt." He smiled at her. "He's lucky to have you."

She couldn't talk, think and or speak. The room was hot and unbearable. Where his fingers were, her skin was on fire.

"So what do you say Doctor, can I have some of these stitches out yet?"

His words burned her ears and she looked up. His eyes were baring back at her as he gave her a boyish grin. It didn't help, the fire ran across her skin and body even more.

"I've got the whole of Cardiff waiting until I can act normal again you know, and the worlds biggest pile of papers that need alphabetizing and filing."

"Umm...yes," she croaked out, bringing her hand up running across the scar again to take sure. "The one near your shoulder looks like its healed nicely and can come out," she added, her voice low. "A few more weeks and this one can come out," she said, tracing the one near his right nipple.

She watched him pull his hand away but she keep hers on his scars.

He closed his eyes, though she was gentle his scars were beginning to burn a little. Her hand was hovering near the remains of his tattoo, he licked his lips, he was enjoying her attention, but it was getting a little to much now. Opening his eyes feeling her touch, the light burning that followed her touch, the melded colors of skin and ink.

He took her hand gently in his. He slowly removed it from his chest, placing it in his weaker right arm, tracing the left's fingers gently up her palm, turning it face up, tracing every line, and concentrating on it wholly, breathing slow, ragged breaths. Everything about her was beautiful, so perfect, so amazing.

He gently folded her fingers up, and pushed her arm back to her. "You don't want this," he gestured to his chest, "or me. Your frustrated, your so beautiful and perfect, and your handsome, smart and perfect fiancee with be back soon." He closed his eyes, trying to control his emotions because there was nothing he wanted more in this moment of time. "You don't want me, I want you, but you don't really want me and I need a doctor right now…"

He trailed off. She was too good for him, she was so beautiful, smart, and he could bet she was funny and all-roundly great, and he call also bet that this Tom matched her in every-way, and he was almost certain they'd be amazing together, and this Tom was everything he could never be.

He was just a boy to her, one who had never lived outside the military and was struggling to survive on his own without it, even though it was still with him, just not controlling him. He who wasn't smart, or funny, or charming, he who was broken and scarred.

Martha keep her eyes forward, staring at his face. His eyes were closed as she watched him lick his lips and she couldn't help but lick hers. It been almost six months since anyway besides the Doctor had hugged, held her or even kissed her. Tom wasn't due back for another six months or more, depending on rather he wanted to stay longer or not.

Her breathed etched when he took his hand to hers. Her body shivered as her ran his fingers across the palm of her hand. The heat in her belly returned when he took raggard breaths. She hadn't expected this when she came into work this morning.

She gave a startled cry when she folded her fingers against her hand and pushed back. Sensing what he meant, her hands went aburtly to her side.

"You don't want this,"

How in the bloody hell did he know what she wanted. He couldn't read her mind.

or me. Your frustrated, your so beautiful and perfect, and your handsome, smart and perfect fiancee with be back soon."

He had called her beautiful and perfect. It had been so long since someone had told her that and it wasn't in the afterglow of something. She watched him close his eyes and she took the moment to step back and gather her lab coat again. No matter how hot it was, she pulled the lab coat tightly around her.

"You don't want me, I want you, but you don't really want me and I need a doctor right now…"

Again with the assuming what she wanted. Why did people always assume what she wanted. At this moment, she wanted to fill his lips against her and he wanted it to. She, however, had a job to do no matter how much she wanted to ran to the nearest bathroom. She watched him concreate on what he was doing.

"Maybe I should reply you to another physician?" she replied, her tone colder than the the South Pole.

The cry almost broke his heart.

"Maybe I should reply you to another physician?" Her tone cut through him like ice, she was wrapping herself up against him, all safe in her lab coat.

"If you want to..." He said sadly. Closing his eyes against the sting, trying not to look like a child in front of her, but getting the strange feeling that he was failing. He was also getting the sinking feeling that if he did what his gut told him to he could suffer a heart attack, or face a court martial. He opened his eyes, watching her hug herself, her face so hurt. He had hurt her, in trying to not hurt her he had ruined the perfection that she was.

"I don't want you to though..." His heart was going a mile a second let alone a minute, he felt like he was choking, sometimes he hated life, no clear orders, or simple procedures, some instinct was kicking in, some drive.

He pushed himself off the bed, taking her arms and moving close, millimeters from her lips.

"Do you want this?" He leant forward a bit, ignoring the sting of his chest, or the feeling that his pulse was about a meter out of his neck. He braced himself for a slap, after all she was engaged, and he'd pretty much told her no. And kissed her.

"If you want to..."

She didn't want too. God knows, she didn't want to. She wanted to be the one to help him, not those other excuses for doctors. She could see his breathing fast but she keep her arms wrap around her body. He opened his eyes and she knew he could see the hurt on her face. She didn't try to hide it, it wouldn't help much.

"I don't want you to though..."

She watched him push himself off the bed and stumbled towards her. His hands took her arms and she felt the fire run through her again, much stronger this time. His face was only inches from hers. She could feel his warm breathe.

"Do you want this?"

When his lips meet hers, she felt him hold back for a moment. She felt herself hold back for a moment but soon all morals fell away and she felt herself giving in. She pulled her arms from his grasp and moved them to his bare waist just before the hem of his trousers.

He could feel her presence intensified suddenly, his whole body was covered in her heat. Her coat and top against his bare raw chest, her hands on his bare flesh. He kissed her back with all his passion and desperation. Hands drifting down. His right hand loosely tracing serpintines on her back, left firmly on her hip. Suddenly he got the impression that one of them was wearing far to much clothing.

Without breaking the kiss he worked his hands up, softly caressing her over the lab coat, taking it gently and tugging it down, hoping she'd get the message. Leaning his forehead in and breaking the lip contact, lips flutter down her jaw-line to her ear, gently breathing on it, sucking and nibbling.

"Are you sure?" He whispered huskily into her ear. He didn't want to sound like a broken record. Lips eagerly making their way back along her jaw, he blinked, "I don't want ruin..." talking into her lips, looking into her eyes, such beautiful brown eyes, such beauty, he was regretting his words, but wanted to be sure, him talking didn't stop his trying to remove the lab coat.

Martha shivered against his touch when he let his hands trace her back then firmly to her hips. She could feel him caressing her lab coat and it took all the will power she had left not take him right there. She groaned in surprises when he took ahold of her coat and tugged it down, leaving her once more in her black tee-shirt and trousers.

She once again shivered against him but not from the cold but what he doing to her nerve endings. His lips traced down her jaw-line then her ear. She moved against his body softly, not hit his wounds or stitches. He sucked and nibbled on her ear, causing her breathe to heighten.

"Are you sure?"

She wasn't sure about anything but his voice husky in her ear caused all her morals to fly out the window. She might regret it later but she needed to be held and loved even if it was false. His lips were onced to hers again and she moaned softly.

"I don't want ruin..."

"You're weren't the first," she replied softly, her eyes dark and dialated.

He growled lightly in her ear. "Okay then…"

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