Pregnancy Scans

Martha's POV

The afterglow was sticky and perfect. Martha lay sprawled on Amy’s ridiculously soft duvet, the scent of sex, sweat, and the Doctor’s unique, ozone-tinged musk thick in the air. Her body hummed, muscles deliciously lax, the deep, satisfying ache between her legs a constant reminder of what had just happened. Her Doctor. She’d finally had him. She felt him inside her, claiming her, filling her with the precious seed meant to rebuild Gallifrey. A shiver, part awe, part primal triumph, raced down her spine.

But beneath the euphoria, the haze of receding pleasure, and the cold, analytical focus of Dr. Martha Jones suddenly kicked in. Hard.

"Doctor," she murmured, her voice rough but firm. She pushed herself up on one elbow, ignoring the pleasant twinge in her core. Her gaze, sharp and clinical now, locked onto him. He looked impossibly pleased with himself, like he had been waiting to do this for a long time but hadn't allowed himself to dwell on it, let alone give himself permission to act on it until now. Amy watched them both from the side of the bed, a lazy, sated smile on her flushed face, idly tracing patterns on Martha’s bare thigh.

"Mm?" The Doctor turned, his eyes still dark with lingering desire as they swept over her naked form.

"Scans," Martha stated, injecting the professional tone she used when demanding test results from junior doctors. "I need confirmation. We need to track it. Initiation, trajectory, implantation potential...and we need to do it now." Her hand went instinctively to her lower abdomen, pressing lightly. "Your biology, Time Lord sperm…we have no baseline for how easy or complicated it would be for you to impregnate me, since even if your kind looks very physiologically similar to humans, we are still members of different species. We need real-time monitoring!"

The Doctor blinked, then a wide, almost manic grin spread across his face. "Oh, Martha Jones! Brilliant, as always! Right then!" He whipped out the sonic screwdriver from the pocket of his discarded pants with a flourish, the familiar buzzing sound cutting through the quiet. He moved to the edge of the bed, his focus shifting instantly to intense scientific inquiry. He ran the sonic in precise sweeps over her pelvis, the blue light bathing her sweat-slicked skin. "Tracking gametes, monitoring hormonal cascade, endometrial receptivity…don't worry, the TARDIS will be able to correlate."

He pointed the screwdriver towards the door. "Projection in the living room! Full spectrum analysis, my dear!" he said as he called out to the super-computer matrix of his 4-dimensional ship.

The air in Amy’s room shimmered briefly, then solidified into a doorway-sized, shimmering holographic display hovering just beyond the threshold. Numbers, complex double-helix structures, fluid diagrams, and pulsing waves of light coalesced into a breathtaking, three-dimensional representation. It wasn't sterile medical imaging; it was living art, constellations of biology made visible through soft, blue light.

Martha scrambled off the bed, ignoring the cool air on her naked skin, her entire being focused on the hologram. Amy followed, equally mesmerized, her earlier languor replaced by rapt attention. They stood side-by-side in the open doorway, bathed in the soft, multicolored glow.

"There," Martha breathed, pointing a slightly trembling finger. A cluster of brilliant, almost aggressive golden motes swam with impossible speed through a luminous tunnel representing her fallopian tube. "Look at the motility! Off the charts!" Her medical mind raced, comparing it to sluggish human sperm. "They’re navigating like guided missiles."

Next to them, a separate graph spiked dramatically. "Progesterone," Martha identified instantly. "Perfect surge. Endometrium thickening beautifully." She pointed to another display showing intricate cellular structures. "Receptor sites primed and ready. Optimal adhesion potential." A wave of pure, unadulterated joy, sharp and sweet, washed over her. It wasn't just hope; it was scientific certainty blooming in her chest. "Doctor…it’s happening. The conditions are perfect." She turned to him, her eyes wide and shining. "Your children. Our children. They're being conceived as we speak."

The Doctor stepped behind her, his hands settling possessively on her bare hips, his chin resting on her shoulder, watching the display with fierce pride. "Beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Utterly magnificent. My brilliant, brilliant Martha...thank you so much," He added, whispering the last word almost like a grateful answer to prayers.

Amy's POV

Amy watched them as the Doctor embraced Martha, their bare bodies illuminated by the glow of the holographic light. And that fierce protectiveness, that **** love she herself felt for the Doctor and their shared purpose, surged towards Martha too.

They were sisters in this. Mothers of the new dawn. And so, without a word, Amy moved. She knelt gracefully on the plush carpet in front of Martha, her fiery hair catching the hologram's light. Her gaze was filled with a tenderness that felt primal and profound. She placed both hands gently, reverently, on Martha’s lower belly, fingers splayed over the warmth of her skin where the miracle was unfolding.

Then, Amy leaned forward. Slowly, deliberately, she pressed a soft, lingering kiss just below Martha’s navel. It wasn't just erotic...it felt like much more than that. Like pure adoration. Like a blessing. Like a silent vow. Her lips were warm against Martha's skin.

Martha gasped, a small, startled sound. The intensity of Amy's gesture, the sheer depth of love and acceptance that she was sure radiated from her eyes, pierced through the clinical awe of her ebony-skinned sister-wife. Tears, hot and unexpected, sprang to Martha’s eyes. She looked down at Amy’s bowed head, the red hair like molten copper in the light, then back at the hologram showing the golden seeds swimming relentlessly towards their goal. The Doctor’s hands tightened on her hips, grounding her, claiming her just as surely as he had claimed her own womb as well. A profound sense of belonging, of being utterly cherished and needed for this sacred purpose, surely flooded her, and Amy could read that on her face because she was experiencing it too.

She placed one hand over Amy’s where it rested on her belly, her fingers intertwining with the redhead's. Her other hand reached back, finding the Doctor's arm, holding onto him. The three of them stood connected, Amy kneeling in devotion before the cradle of new life, Martha caught between them, the living proof of their union, with the Doctor standing behind, the architect of their shared destiny.

She could have told Martha that she now loved her very deeply or that she would love and care for her children after they are born as if they were her own. But in that timeless moment as she traced her navel with sweet kisses, the redhead realized that she didn't have to, because Martha could see it all reflected in her gaze.

And as they locked their eyes together, Amy Pond felt without a shadow of a doubt that Martha Jones now loved her just as deeply too.

A/N: Well, with this chapter, we have officially reached the finale of Series Two: The First Seeds of New Gallifrey. I hope you enjoyed the conclusion and the growing bond between these two wonderful companions.

Now, I already have the main mother and plotline for Series Three planned, but I maaay go with the Doctor Who tradition of doing a special episode/chapter between seasons, like the popular Christmas Specials. I hadn't decided yet, but I do have a couple of ideas if I go down that route. We will see, but either way, thanks for reading and commenting so far, and I hope you enjoy Series Three when it gets started soon.

Until then, please remember to review, and if you have any suggestions for future Mothers to be recruited, or just some fun situations you would like to see developed, feel free to let me know.

Later.