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doctorslove · 3 years

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Having the Blues

Hey anon!! I love this request so much I had a lot of fun with it and I hope you enjoy it!!!! <3 I love me some ten fluff.

Also I added Wilfred to the story along with Donna because I love him and I'm very soft for his relationship with the Doctor.

Summary: You need to go back home for a few days and the Doctor gets sad without you. No matter how much he denies it, Donna and Wilfred are not oblivious to his love for you and will do their best to get the two of you together.

Angst with a fluffy ending and the Doctor being crazy about you 😌

Tenth Doctor x Reader

The reader uses she/her pronouns

Words: 1946

“Feeling blue, Spaceman?” Donna asked with a teasing tone.

The Doctor lifted his head to meet her gaze. “Hmm?”

“She leaves for just a couple of days and look at him,” she said as if she was talking to an invisible audience.

He glared at her and she smiled.

One of Donna’s favorite pastimes was making fun of the Doctor for his crush on you. She had not managed to get him to admit it yet but he really didn’t have to. It was so obvious that he was in love with you that she was genuinely surprised how someone as clever as you hadn’t noticed.

His love for you was everywhere. It was behind every longing look he’d give you, thinking that no one would notice; behind every kiss he’d leave on your forehead after a long day; behind every hug, and every smile, and every worried expression he’d wear when you were upset.

Donna knew because of course she did. The Doctor was her best friend; she knew what was going on in his hearts. But exactly because he was her best friend it also pained her seeing him this melancholic.

She had seen the look on his face when you’d said you had to go back to Earth for a few days to see your family and friends. His reaction was supportive but she could tell that his smile was sad. He’d miss you. This dumbo! The two of you would become a couple by the end of this week if she had any say in the matter. And she’d do the best she could.

“I was thinking of visiting gramps tonight. How about you come with me? So you feel a little less lonely.”

“I’m not lonely, Donna,” he replied with a flat tone.

“Sure. So are you coming or not?”

He gave her a long stare, remaining quiet.

“Fine.”

“Is everything okay, Doctor?”

Wilfred’s voice made him realize he was not paying attention to the conversation they were having. Visiting Donna’s grandpa with her was not helping him escape his thoughts about you like she had promised him.

“What?” he asked playing with his ear, still processing Wilfred’s words. “Yeah, why?”

“You’ve been talking much less than usual. I’m a bit worried about you to be honest.”

“Why does everyone think I’m not okay? I’m perfectly fine!” he snapped.

“Ohhh…” Wilfred said lifting his eyebrows, turning his head towards Donna who already had a knowing look on her face. “Seems like you were right.”

“Told ya.”

“Wait, right about what?” the Doctor asked looking all confused.

“About you being in love with that friend of yours, Y/N.”

“I’m…Wha-....Who…That’s n-… Donna!”

“Oh come on, Doctor, it’s just the three of us here. You can say it,” she replied to his nonsense.

“I can’t believe you two gossip about my personal life when I’m not around,” he complained after a long pause.

“What else are we supposed to do?” Donna said, returning to the table the other two were sitting at, serving them some tea.

Wilfred laughed but he reached out his hand to hold the Doctor’s. “Why are you torturing yourself over this? Why don’t you just tell her?”

“It’s not that simple,” he replied. It was obvious by his voice how much the subject hurt him. The thought of never getting to have you completely his made his chest tighten.

“Why not?”

The Doctor exhaled by his nose; a failed attempt for a laugh. “Why not... You know who I am. What I am.”

Donna and Wilfred were silent, looking serious this time.

“But all of that doesn’t matter anyway. She only sees me as a friend.”

“Now that’s not true!” Donna exclaimed.

“Yeah it is.”

“You can’t know that. Not until you tell her.”

“Can we stop talking about this? You were supposed to be cheering me up.”

“Oh Doctor…” Wilfred squeezed his hand even tighter. “You might be much older than me but I still see you as a son. And as a dad I would tell you to go get the girl you love. When you find love you keep it. You never let it go.”

The Doctor’s hearts were breaking while listening to him.

“I know you can’t have forever with her,” he continued, “and I know that it hurts and I’m so sorry, but letting the time you do have with her slip away would be a huge mistake.”

“And what if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I tell her and I end up losing her? Losing her even earlier.”

“Then that’s a risk you’ll have to take.”

Donna smiled sadly at her friend. She had a plan for the following day.

You heard your doorbell ring. You stood up from your desk quickly and ran to see who it was only to find Donna standing at your door.

“Donna, what are you doing here? Did something happen? Is the Doctor okay?”

“Whoa whoa, relax, nothing happened,” she smiled trying to calm you down. “I just wanted to see you.”

You exhaled with relief. “Sorry. I just didn’t expect to see you here. Come in.”

While you were leading both of you to the living room, many thoughts came to your mind. Was everything really okay or did she want to tell you something bad and was just trying to bring it up carefully?

“I’m a bit worried,” you vocalized your worries. “You knew I’m coming back tonight, what’s so important you wanna tell me that couldn’t wait?”

“I just wanted us to be alone. Without the Doctor.”

“Oh…” you said, intrigued, settling next to her on the couch. “What is it?”

“Well I…I’m gonna be forward about it.”

“Okay…”

She took a deep breath.

“Do you have feelings for the Doctor?”

You were not expecting that question. You blushed and turned your gaze down to your lap.

“I knew it!” she shouted with pure happiness.

“Donna!”

“You two are such idiots, I don’t know what I'm gonna do with you. If you didn’t have me, I swear…”

You were staring at her, looking absolutely lost.

She smiled softly at you. “You’re in love with him, right?”

There was no point in denying it, the secret was out already. You nodded yes.

“Well you’re in luck because this dumbass of a spaceman is head over heels in love with you.”

“He is?” you asked, feeling your heart melt.

“Oh like crazy!”

At no other time in your life had you ever felt this many butterflies fill your chest and stomach. You could not believe that your best friend, your love, who you thought would never see you the way you saw him, was in love with you. In love. The Doctor loved you.

You let out a dreamy sigh. “He…he loves me. Donna he loves me,” you giggled covering your mouth with both of your hands.

“I know!” she said, joining your laughter and taking you in her arms.

Oh you were going to give him the biggest kiss in the world.

Donna stayed for a long time and told you all about the Doctor’s feelings for you and how worried he was that you didn’t love him back. It broke your heart to think of him being sad because of you. This would end tonight.

She didn’t join you back to the TARDIS. You both thought it would be better if it was just you and the Doctor there to talk freely about your feelings.

You thanked her for everything though and gave her the biggest hug you could along with the promise that you’d bake for her her favorite cookies.

Before you knew it you were standing in front of the TARDIS.

“She’ll love this one,” the Doctor whispered to himself, writing down on a piece of paper, adding the name of a planet he wanted to visit with you on a list along with others. This planet’s land was your favorite color. He could just imagine your beautiful smile when you’d see it for the first time.

Maybe then…Maybe that would be a good time to talk to you. A romantic place for a romantic talk. Hopefully.

“Doctor?”

He heard your sweet voice and ran to the door.

“You’re back!” He gave you his largest smile and took you in his arms, lifting you from the floor, and giving you a little spin. “Oh I missed you!”

“I missed you too, Doctor. So much.”

You nuzzled your face against his neck. You really had missed him. And now you were back; back to your home; to your comfort; to him.

After a long moment of trying to get enough of each other, you let go. His arms were still lingering around you and the stare the two of you shared was starting to fill with tension.

Your breathing was fast, looking into his eyes. He was handsome. So handsome you couldn’t think of anything else sometimes.

He grabbed your hand, breaking the tension. “Come on,” he said with excitement, leading you to the console. “See what I made while you were away.”

It was a list of places he wanted to visit with you. He started explaining what each of them was. Every single one of them had a reason to be added there. And every reason was related to you or your interests. On one of them, for example, grew a pretty flower that you had seen that one time in one of his books and had mentioned you wanted to see in person; another planet's name sounded like yours.

God he was so sweet. You had never thought you’d meet someone who'd care for you like he did; especially someone as lovely as him.

“Doctor?” you interrupted him.

“Yeah?” He turned to look at you with a soft expression.

You couldn’t resist the urge to kiss him. So you didn’t.

You placed a hand on his cheek and brought your lips together. You felt him tremble against you but a few seconds later he wrapped his arms around you and brought you impossibly close.

The Doctor let out a little moan while deepening the kiss. Oh yeah he would be the end of you.

This was by far the happiest moment of your life.

You kissed, and kissed, and kissed for a very long moment until you had to stop to get some oxygen back to your system.

You stayed close though, your bodies touching just like your foreheads did.

“I love you,” you said sounding breathless.

He smiled.

You promised to yourself that you were gonna kiss that smile all night long.

“Oh Y/N…I love you too. I love you.”

The two of you laughed overwhelmed by joy and the Doctor brought your head to his chest, holding you close.

“Did Donna have something to do with this sudden expression of feelings?” he asked.

“She absolutely did.”

He chuckled. “I knew she was up to something, she was acting so sneaky all day.”

You looked up to him. “I’m glad she did.”

“Me too, darling.”

He left a little kiss on the tip of your nose. You gave a bright smile to the love of your life.

“Can you say it again?” he asked, cupping your cheek with his palm.

“Say what again?” You acted naive even though you already knew what he meant.

“That you love me,” he mumbled shyly.

“I love you,” you responded with your entire heart.

He grinned at you. “Again.”

“I love you,” you repeated. “I lov-”

You didn’t have the chance to finish your sentence as the Doctor grabbed your face and kissed you again.

#tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x you #10th doctor x reader #10th doctor x you #the doctor x reader #doctor who fanfic #reader insert #my fics

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elianamarie-blog · 3 years

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Hiii! Can you do one Hyde and y/n are secretly together bc she’s Forman’s sister but Kelso is always flirting with y/n and it upsets Hyde so maybe Kelso and Hyde get into it and they admit they are together?

Yes, baby doll! Thank you for being patient with me <3

Told You So

Steven Hyde x reader

"Hey, good lookin'," Kelso said smoothly to Y/n as he slid in the booth seat of the Hub.

Y/n rolled her eyes at him as she scooted away from him. "Kelso, do you mind? I'm trying to eat here."

"What's a pretty girl like you doing here by yourself?" he asked, completely ignoring her.

"Because I want to be," she said and slammed the book she was reading. "And why are you acting like that? We see each other everyday."

"Yeah, but we're not alone everyday," he replied and scooted closer. "Now we are."

"There's a reason for that, Kelso." She shifted further away from him, closer to the edge, but all that did was make him shift with her. "If Eric found out what you've been trying to do, he'd kick your ass."

"Oh, come on, he doesn't have to know!"

"Kelso, even if we did, you wouldn't be able to keep your fat mouth shut. When you were with Laurie, you announced it to the whole world that you slept with her. I don't need that." She gathered up her stuff and started to head out, but Kelso stood up with her.

"So, you're saying there's a chance?" he grinned stupidly at her.

"No, you dink," she spat and pushed passed him. "I don't like you and I don't want to get with you. Why don't you get that?"

She walked outside while Kelso watched her leave, staring at her ass.

"She totally wants me."

Later in the basement...

"I don't know why he even keeps hitting on me," Y/n said to Donna, Jackie, and Hyde while in the basement. Donna and Y/n sat on the couch, Jackie in the lawn chair, and Hyde in his usual seat. "We've been friends forever and he never looked at me like that until, like, a year ago."

"Well, have you looked in a mirror lately?" Hyde asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"Do you notice your new shirt fillers?"

Y/n looked down at herself, then realized what he meant. "You're saying he's trying to get me in the sack because of my knockers?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Hyde grinned. "Even a blind man can see how much you've grown into your shirts."

"Ugh, what a pig," Jackie sneered. "I'm glad I broke up with him."

"Jackie, to be fair, you broke up with him because he cheated on you," Donna pointed out.

"Eh, whatever," Jackie said, flapping her hand to the side.

"Okay, seriously, guys, how do I get him to stop?" Y/n asked, turning the conversation back around. "Eric gets pissed and tells him to shut up, but he finds new ways to still hit on me."

"Tell him to get bent and that you've found someone else," Hyde suggested.

Y/n eyed him suspiciously. "Kelso may be a bonehead, but when it comes to women and sex, he's freaking Sherlock Holmes."

"Well, then lie."

"Lie?" Y/n asked and fully turned to him. "And say what? That I'm seeing someone so back off before he kicks your ass?"

"Exactly."

Y/n thought about it for a minute and then turned to the girls. "What do you girls think?"

Donna and Jackie shrugged.

"It could work," Jackie said.

"I don't think it's a bad idea," Donna responded. "Kelso doesn't like competition. He'll bitch a lot, but at least he'll back off."

Y/n shrugged. "It's worth a try."

"Good," Jackie said and stood up. "I should get going. My mom is going to attempt to make dinner tonight. If you see the fire department at my house, you'll know what happened." She walked over to the door and tugged it open. "But on the bright side, there'll be lots of fireman. Bye!"

"Maybe I can get a piece of that action," Y/n joked, making Donna laugh.

"I better get going too," she said. "I have to meet your brother at the hub for our date."

"Ohhh, where's he taking you? Mt. Hump?" Hyde asked.

"Ew, gross! Hyde!" Y/n shrieked, making Hyde laugh. "That's my little brother."

"Little?" Hyde asked. "You guys are only ten months apart."

"I'm still older by a couple months."

"Whatever you say," Hyde said, unconcerned and crossed his arms.

"Actually, no, he's taking me somewhere else for once," Donna said, grabbing her coat. "He says it's a surprise."

"I can guarantee his surprise is what's in his pants," Hyde said.

Donna rolled her eyes and looked at Y/n. "Good luck with him."

Y/n nodded as she watched Donna leave the basement. She turned back to him who was staring at her through his aviators. "Now I know what's on your mind."

"How could it not be when you're here looking like that," he responded and stood up only to crawl his way onto her, making her lie on her back.

A smirk played at her lips as she reached up and removed his glasses, finally seeing those blown pupils in his baby blue eyes. "Looking like what, Mr. Hyde?"

He growled at the nickname as he dipped his head into her neck, peppering her flesh with light kisses. She closed her eyes and leaned her head to the side to give him more access.

"All hot and don't even know it," he muttered, trailing his hands up her blouse. He brought his face up to meet hers and pressed his mouth against hers.

"You are mine," he growled when he pulled apart from her. "Not Kelso's. Mine."

She nodded. "Now show me just why I'm yours."

The next day...

The gang hung out in the basement as usual as the tv played quietly in the background. Y/n sat on the couch wearing a mini skirt wearing Hyde's Led Zepplin shirt, reading a magazine. Kelso couldn't help but stare at her bare sun kissed legs, his eyes roaming and try to see under her skirt.

"Stop staring at me," Y/n demanded.

"Well, I'm sorry, Y/n, but you're freakin' hot!" he responded.

"Hey, Kelso, have you tried not hitting on my sister?" Eric asked calmly, yet sarcastically.

"I gotta, Eric," Kelso asked. "It's like asking me not to breathe!" He snapped his fingers and pointed at Y/n. "I know! We should do it."

Y/n shook her head, keeping her eyes glued to the magazine. "You are as dumb as you are pretty."

Kelso smirked and leaned on the arm rest next to her, face inches from hers. "So, you're saying I'm pretty?"

She tore her eyes from the magazine and made eye contact with him, noses barley brushing, and glared at him. "Bite me, Kelso," she spit before pushing his face away from hers.

"Is that a promise?," Kelso asked, smirking.

Hyde walked out of his room in that moment, seeing Kelso on the floor and Y/n sitting on the couch. When he moved from behind the couch to his seat, he noticed Y/n wearing his shirt. "Is that my shirt?"

Y/n looked up at him with a hint of innocence in her eyes. "Yeah, I saw it in the dryer and thought it looked comfy. Plus, I thought it'd look good with this skirt. Is that okay?"

"Um," he replied, swallowing thickly as he scanned her body, especially at her smooth and shapely legs. "Yeah. It's whatever."

She grinned at him. "Thank you."

"Whoa," Eric said as he stood from the couch. "Since when do you let chicks wear your shirts?"

Hyde shrugged. "I never had a problem with it to begin with."

"Yes, you did," Donna said with a smile on her face. "You said that no girl will ever your shirts unless you're banging her." Her eyes grew wide as she shot up from her seat. "Are you two sleeping together?!"

"What?" Y/n asked calmly. "Don't be crazy; of course we're not."

"Good, because you know if you were, I'd have to kick your ass, Hyde," Eric said, relief flooding over him as he went over to the fridge to grab a popsicle.

"What's the big deal? It's just a shirt," Hyde replied and set his feet up on the table, crossing his arms. "Besides, I live here. Why would it be weird?"

"I don't know," Fez replied. "I mean it's pretty obvious you have the hots for her."

"Shut up, Fez," Hyde said threateningly. "I do not."

"Oh, sure," he replied quietly.

"So, on this whole doing it," Kelso said and knelt down next to Y/n. "Are we doing it or not?"

Hyde didn't hesitate to reach over and connect his fist as hard he could to Kelso's shoulder.

"Ow, Hyde! What the hell was that for?"

Hyde grinned at his dopey best friend. He tried his hardest not to just beat the ever living hell out of him, but luckily for him, he had a good poker face. "Just love messing with you, man."

Kelso went from offended to laughing in seconds. "That's a good one." He turned back to Y/n. "So, what do you say?"

"You know, you begging me like this is kinda hot," Y/n commented with hooded eyes.

"Oh, yeah?" Kelso asked, shifting to be eye level with her.

"Yeah," she smiled and inhaled deeply.

"Y/n, what the hell are you doing?" Hyde asked.

"Yeah, what he said," Eric said. "Look, I don't need Kelso sleeping with both my sisters AND worry about knocking her up to. It's like a weird porno soap opera."

"You know what also is really hot?" Y/n asked, ignoring her brother and secret boyfriend.

"What?" he giggled, loving how close they were.

"Leaving me alone!" she responded and hit him with the magazine she was holding.

The group chuckled as Kelso stood up. "Damn, Y/n, I just wanted to get a little action!"

"Leave her alone, man. It's like you're deaf," Hyde said, annoyed.

"Hey, I've never given up on a girl before and I'm not going to start now!" Kelso defended.

"Well, you better!" Hyde said, growing frustrated. "I'm tired of hearing this everyday, man. So, shut up and leave her alone before I make you."

"Damn, Hyde, what's got your panties in a twist?" Kelso asked glumly and stood up.

"Nothing. I'm just tired of hearing you everyday trying to get into her pants! So, knock it off!"

"Well, it's not like she's your girlfriend, so you knock it off!" Kelso argued.

"Really? That's the best you can do?" Hyde asked, smirking.

The entire time the two men were arguing, Y/n found herself, staring incredulously at them as if she was a prize.

"Well, I can tell you to get bent and I'll do whatever I like, but I know you'll hit me," Kelso said.

"You just basically said it to me, you moron!" Hyde said, yelling. "And now I'm going to hit you."

Kelso took a couple steps back, backing away from Hyde. "You do that and it will not end well for you."

"Okay, guys stop it!" Y/n shouted, jumping up from her seat. "This isn't cool. Kelso sit down over there," she said pointing to the lawn chair. "And Hyde, sit down over there." She pointed to his usual seat.

Hyde and Kelso glared at each other for a minute.

"Fine," Hyde said and turned around.

"Fine," Kelso repeated and sat down in the lawn chair. "But I think something else that would've been interested to know on what exactly I was going to do."

As everyone looked at him in confusion, Kelso reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of pink panties.

"What the hell, Kelso?!" Y/n shrieked. "Are those my panties?!"

Kelso smirked in victory as he held the panties close to his ear. "What's that panties? You want me to do what to you? Oh, I can't do that. Naughty panties!" He clapped the cotton fabric between his hands and glanced over at Hyde who was practically steaming from the ears.

"You're dead," Hyde spat through gritted teeth and practically lunged at Kelso.

Before Kelso could react, Hyde was on top of him, his fists hitting wherever they would land.

"Hyde! What the--Ow! My eye!" Kelso shouted.

Before Hyde could connect his fist once more, he felt two arms wrap under his arms and around his chest and was pulled off the man.

"Hyde, get off of him before you really hurt him!" Eric shouted, trying to be heard over Kelso's wailing.

"What is it with you?!" Kelso asked. "We're just messing around!"

"No, you're not!" Hyde yelled, ripping himself from Eric's grip. "You're being a complete tool to Y/n."

"Why do you care this much?" Kelso asked with Y/n's panties still in hand. Y/n walked over and snatched her panties back from his grip.

"Because she's my chick, man!" Hyde blurted, but quickly realized what he just said as he saw everyone's wide eyes on him. Except for Y/n who was eyeing her brother.

"She's...she's your...what now?" Eric sputtered.

"Uhm...I meant...she's a--a chick," Hyde said, trying to save himself.

"No, no. No, no. You just she's your chick," Jackie corrected, pointing a finger at him. "Don't try to wiggle yourself out of this one."

"She's...uh--uh...Y/n, a little help here?" he asked his girlfriend who was standing there awkwardly.

"What he meant to say was that as a woman he respects me and he didn't appreciate Kelso's boneheaded advances towards me," she said, rather smoothly even though her voice wavered.

Eric stared at his sister wide eyed with his mouth open. "You guys are dating?"

The couple sighed in defeat as Hyde rubbed his hot neck. "Yeah."

Y/n nodded, trying not to look Eric in the eye.

"Have you two...had s-sex?" Eric stuttered, forcing that image out of his mind.

"Eric!" Donna said. "You don't ask that."

"Do you really want to know that answer?" Hyde asked.

Eric screwed his eyes shut, now the image really colorful behind his eyelids. He shoved the heel of his hand deep into his eyes until he saw different shapes, desperate to erase the unholy sin that was between his sister and best friend.

"How long?" Kelso asked after he was able to get over the initial shock enough to speak.

"About a month," Y/n responded with a strong voice.

"A month?!" Eric cried out. "You've been screwing my sister for a month?! Oh, God." He forced himself to swallow the bile that had risen up his throat.

"You sure it hasn't been longer than that?" Jackie asked. "Because, you know, sometimes, time can feel a lot shorter when you're...having fun."

"Don't call it that!" Eric yelled and eyed the couple who were now standing near each other. "This can't be happening. This can't be happening! My best friend and my sister bumping uglies? Why would you two do this?"

"Because I like him?" Y/n challenged. "And he likes me."

"Yeah, man. We're not just fooling around."

"I don't care what you're doing or not doing!" Eric shouted, face turning red. "You went behind my back and starting dating my sister when you knew it would bother me!"

"Forman--"

"No! Don't even--! You know what? I--I can't stay here. I need some air," Eric said before he stormed out the basement.

The couple looked after him, sighing and turned back to the group.

"By the way, yes, it's been a month," Y/n said, answering Jackie's question.

"Ah, damn!" she replied and pulled out ten dollar bill from her wallet and handed it to Fez.

Fez whooped and gleefully took the money. "Told you!"

I hope you enjoyed this one! Let me know if there is anything I could've added! Thanks for reading my lovely.

#steven hyde #that 70s show #that 70's show imagine #eric forman #donna pinciotti #jackie burkhart #fez that 70s show #michael kelso

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petrichoravellichor · 3 years

Text

Rebar Not Included

Written for Day 11 of the Supernatural Deserved Better Creative Challenge (prompt: hunting).

Summary: Jody and Donna help out the Winchesters by looking into an Ohio case involving masked vampires, and what do you know: not only do they manage to kill a certain side character from season 1 but they ALSO make it through without dying! Oh, and they kiss, just because they can.

(Read on Ao3)

********************

Jody was just settling down with a book for the evening when her phone rang; she smiled at the name flashing across her screen and swiped left to accept the call. “Hey, Sam.”

“Jody, hi. How are you?”

“Alone, believe it or not. Alex is working the night shift, Claire and Kaia are still on that case down in Miami, and Patience is staying over at a friend’s. Got the whole house to myself.”

Sam chuckled. “That...honestly sounds kind of amazing right about now.”

“How’s Cas? Is he feeling any better?” she asked. It had been nearly a week since Sam and Dean had returned from the Empty with one bedraggled former angel in tow. Jody hadn’t pressed too hard for details at the time—Sam had sounded pretty exhausted when he’d called to tell her they’d made it back safely—but from what she’d gathered, Cas was human now, and his time in the Empty had left him very much in need of recuperation.

On the other end of the line, Sam groaned. “Uh...yeah, you could say that.” A beat, then: “He and Dean haven’t come out of Dean’s room since yesterday afternoon.”

Jody had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. "Huh. Well, how do you like that: they finally figured it out.”

Sam sighed. “Yeah. Don’t get me wrong; I’m really happy for them. I just wish the Men of Letters had invested in sound-proof walls. But anyway,” he said, changing tracks, “that’s not what I called you about.”

“What’s up?”

“So get this: last night, a family of four in Akron, Ohio, got attacked home-invasion style. Whatever it was killed the dad and drained his blood.”

Jody frowned. “Vampires?”

“I think so, but there’s more. I called and spoke with the police sergeant, and according to her, the attackers left the mom alive but ripped out her tongue, and they also took the two kids.”

Jody’s blood ran cold; she glanced at the photo of Alex, beaming and holding up her nursing degree, over on the mantle. “They’re taking blood slaves.”

“Yeah, looks like it.” Sam paused, then: “The thing is, I don’t think this the first time they’ve done it. Back in ’86, our dad was looking into a string of kidnappings along Route 77, and it was the same thing: whatever it was took the kids and ripped the tongues out of any adult it didn’t drain. By the time Dad started digging around, though, the attacks stopped. Until now, anyway. Here, just a sec, I’m gonna text you something...”

A moment later, Jody’s phone chimed. She put Sam on speaker and tapped to open the message; it was a drawing of what resembled the front part of a skull. “What am I looking at?”

“The mom drew that, the one from the most recent attack; apparently, the perpetrators wore masks. Hang on, I’m sending you another picture. This one’s from our dad’s journal, back when he was working the case in the 80s.”

The second picture loaded, and Jody drew in a sharp breath: the resemblance between the two drawings was unmistakable. “It’s the same nest.”

“That’s what I’m guessing. They seem to always target the same type of home: outside town, isolated, kids between the ages of five and ten. If the pattern from last time holds, they’ll hit Canton next, then East Sparta.”

Jody swallowed. “You want me to look into it.”

“If you’re able to, yeah, that would be great. We’d go ourselves, but what with Cas still recovering and him and Dean...um…” Sam cleared his throat, then continued more smoothly, “I can call someone else if now’s not a good time.”

Jody chewed her lip for a moment, then shook her head. This felt personal. “No,” she replied, pushing herself off the couch and heading to pack a bag, “I’ll take care of it. Let me grab a few hours of sleep, and then I’ll head out.”

“Great, thank you. I’ll dig around online and text you a shortlist of properties around Canton that seem like likely targets.”

“Sounds good; thanks, Sam. Take care.” She smirked, adding, “And tell Dean and Cas I said hello. Whenever you see them, that is.”

Sam snorted. “Will do. Be safe, okay?”

“Always.” She ended the call, then typed out a quick message to Donna: Hey babe. Feel like teaming up to take down some vamps?

********************

The following night, she and Donna were crouched in the shadows near an abandoned barn in Ohio. Sam’s intel about where the nest would hit next had proven accurate, and by the time a black van carrying two masked vampires had pulled up in front of a rural home outside Canton, Jody and Donna were waiting. They dispatched both vampires easily, sparing one just long enough to learn the location of the group’s nest; now, the only thing left to do was clear out the remaining vamps and free the children who’d been taken captive.

“Okie dokie,” Donna whispered, “our toothy friend back there said they keep the kiddos in a room off to one side. We go in through the side door, then you take right, I take left?”

Jody nodded. “Works for me. Come on,” she said, drawing her machete, “let’s go save some kids.”

They crept over to the barn and entered.

At first glance, the place seemed deserted. They fanned out along the walls, searching carefully for any sign of life, but other than the occasional spiderweb, there was nothing. Then, as Jody neared the back of the barn, she heard it: a quiet sniffling sound coming from behind a latched door. She raised her hand and signaled to Donna, who nodded and hurried over; then, while Donna watched her back, Jody opened the door and saw two small, scared-looking little boys peering back at her. The younger one couldn’t have been much older than her own son, Owen, had been when he’d died, and the realization made Jody’s stomach clench.

She lowered her machete and crouched down to the boys’ level. “Hey,” she whispered soothingly, “hey, it’s okay. You can come out; you're safe. We’re not going to hurt you.”

No sooner had she ushered the two boys to her side, however, than she heard Donna’s warning: “Heads up, Jodes; we got company!”

Five figures were approaching slowly from the front of the barn, all armed with blades. Four of them, the two on either side of the central figure, wore masks similar to the drawings Jody had seen in Sam’s text messages. The fifth, however, was a maskless female vampire dressed in dark leather. As the group drew closer, she looked from Jody to Donna and back again with a scowl.

“You’re not the Winchesters,” she said, as though someone were playing a trick on her.

Donna flashed a grim smile. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Boys,” Jody said, low and urgent over her shoulder, “run.” She heard their frantic footfalls, followed by the slam of the side door. Good, she thought, hefting her machete as the vampires charged: she didn’t want them to see what happened next.

The first vampire lost its head the second it stepped in their space. Jody spun and slashed, Donna at her back, the clash of blades shattering the still air of the night. It was brutal work, bloody work, and Jody took no pleasure in it. Her only objective was to protect: the boys they’d freed, Donna, Sam and Dean. She had no idea what the vampires wanted with the Winchesters, and she didn’t care: whatever it was, she’d make sure they didn’t get it.

Jody had just relieved a second vampire of its head when something flashed on the edge of her vision; she pivoted, raising her weapon just in time. The female vampire’s blade crashed into her machete and sent a shockwave of pain up her arm, nearly causing her to cry out. There was no time for that, though: the vampire swung at her again and again, driving her back from the rest of the fight before rushing forward, barreling into Jody with the force of a tank.

Jody fell hard to the floor. Her machete flew from her hand, and she could only watch as a triumphant smile split her opponent’s face. The vampire raised her blade to deliver a final blow…and then her head flew off in a spray of red. Her body crumpled to the ground, revealing Donna, blood splattered and furious, machete still hovering at the end of its arc.

“Not my girlfriend, you bitch,” she panted, glowering down at the corpse as though sight alone could set it ablaze; then her gaze shifted to Jody, and all the rage seemed to drain out of her at once. “You okay, Jodes?”

Jody exhaled, nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” She peered past Donna, counting the bodies on the ground and sighing in relief when the total came to five. Donna reached out a hand, and Jody took it, allowing Donna to pull her up and into an embrace. They kissed then, slow, reverent, and it was several moments before Jody could bring herself to pull away.

“Come on,” she said quietly, brushing back a strand of Donna’s hair. “We should go find those boys, make sure they get home safely.”

Donna nodded, and they drew apart, then left the barn without looking back.

#dodio #jonna #jody mills x donna hanscum #donna hanscum x jody mills #spndbcc #spn femslash #spn ladies #jody mills #donna hanscum #wayward sisters #sheriff wives #spn 15x20 #spn spoilers #rebar not included #my writing

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440mxs-wife · 3 years

Text

Tea of Love

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Other Characters: Sam, Castiel, Crowley, Rowena

Imagine: You’re hunting a witch with Sam and Dean, only to fall victim to her curse.

A/N: This is my contribution to the SPN Bi-Weekly Writing Challenge offered by @supernatural-jackles. I signed up to contribute on a monthly basis, but it looks like I missed the deadline. Here it is all the same. Enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean parked the Impala a good distance away from the two-story farmhouse. Far enough away to be hidden from sight, but still within running distance for a quick getaway if needed.

You had received word that a witch was causing trouble, and had tracked her to the town of Smithville, Arkansas. The plan was to sneak in to the house, with you going in through the back entrance, while Sam and Dean went in through the front door.

"All right, weapons check," Dean whispered. Each of you ejected the clip from your handguns, yours from your .380, to make sure it was full of witch-killing bullets. Satisfied, you re-inserted the clip and pulled back on the hammer so that a round was in the chamber. After a successful weapons check, Sam went up the steps and started picking the lock on the front door.

"Ready?" you asked as you turned to head for the back door.

Dean nodded. "Hey? Be careful," he remarked softly.

You sent him a quick smile. "Always, Dean. See you inside," you replied. You and Sam be careful too, Dean, you said in silent prayer.

Quickly and quietly, you made your way to the back door. The wooden steps to the porch looked like they had seen too many blistering summers and frostbitten winters to still be stable. You carefully climbed the steps, sticking to the edges where the wood appeared to be less worn.

You gingerly tested the doorknob, only to find that it turned easily in your hand. An unlocked door could mean one of two things: a careless witch or you had just walked into her trap. While you were hoping for the first option, with your luck, you had a feeling it was probably door #2. You tiptoed through the kitchen, through the living room and down the hall to the bedrooms. First bedroom on the right was clear, second one across the hall was also clear.

As you carefully approached the last bedroom, you realized that you hadn't seen Sam or Dean yet. You stopped and strained your ears for any confirmation that they had even entered the house yet. Just as you were about to resume your progress towards the bedroom door, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You whipped around, only to be confronted by the mossy green orbs of one Dean Winchester.

With your heart hammering in your chest, you took a moment for it to return to normal before continuing your trek down the hall. "What is wrong with you?" you hissed. "You shouldn't just sneak up on me like that!"

"Well, excuse me," he shot back. "First of all, I didn't expect for you to have gotten this far without running into the witch. And 'B', isn't it better to go in knowing you have backup than only hoping you do?" he retorted.

You took a deep breath before answering. "You're right. Sorry Dean," you whispered. "Let's get this witch taken down so we can blow this popstand," you replied.

Dean nodded and motioned for you to continue down the hall. You turned the doorknob and slowly swung the door open. You entered the room first to assess the situation, while Dean stood just outside the door, ready to bust in if needed.

The witch had her back to you as she sprinkled something into a bowl. All of a sudden she raised her arms above her head as if in victory and turned to face the doorway. "I was wondering when you hunters were going to show up. I've been expecting you," she smirked.

Before you could raise your weapon, she picked up the bowl and threw its contents at you. The blue powder from the bowl doused you almost completely from head to toe. As she chanted some words in Latin, the powder started to glow and burn a bit wherever it touched bare skin. You cried out in pain, at which time Dean entered the room and fired his weapon. The witch fell to the floor, dead from the witch-killing bullet he fired.

"Dean," you pleaded softly as you started to feel faint.

"Whoa, hold on there. Stay with me, sweetheart," Dean said as he rushed to catch you before you could hit the floor. He called out for Sam, who had finally caught up with you and Dean. Sam scooped you up in his arms and carried you out to the Impala.

Dean filled him in on what had happened between you and the witch. "I don't know what kind of spell she got hit with, so we're going to have to be ready for just about anything," Dean said grimly.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You carefully opened your eyes enough to notice that you were back in your room, in your bed instead of the backseat of the Impala. You decided to sit up, only to be met with a splitting headache. A groan of pain escaped your lips as you eased back onto your pillow and draped your bandaged arm across your eyes.

There was a soft knock at your door, then you heard it creak open. "Hiya, sweetheart," Dean said softly. "How're you feeling?" he asked.

"Like I got hit by a truck. Twice," you grumbled.

Dean chuckled. "Here, I gotcha," he said as he handed you a couple of painkillers and a bottle of water. He helped you up to a sitting position, putting pillows between your back and the headboard.

"Thank you," you replied. "What the hell happened? The last thing I remember is that witch throwing a bowl of some kind of powder at me. Then I remember her chanting something, the powder burning into my skin, then you killed her," you finished.

"Well, that's about it, you collapsed after that and we brought you back here in the Impala," Dean explained. "Sam brought you in and put you on your bed," he remarked.

"How long was I out?" you asked.

"You've been out for about a day and a half, sweetheart," he remarked softly. "We called Rowena to see if she could tell what you may have been hit with, so we'd know how to counteract it. And, oh yeah, Crowley tagged along, just so you know," he grumbled.

"Oh. Fabulous," you deadpanned. "I'll bet he's just been a joy to be around," you snorted.

Dean laughed. "Yeah, he said he was bored in Hell, so he latched on to Mummy's magic bag to show up here," he grinned.

You reached over and took Dean's hand in yours. "Hey, in case I forgot to tell you, Dean....thank you for getting me out of there and taking care of me here," you remarked softly.

He shifted a little in his seat and nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, sure, no problem. All in a day's work, you know," he said as he jumped up from the chair. "Um, I'm uh....gonna just....yeah. I'll check in on you later," Dean then bolted out of your room.

What the hell was that all about? you thought, as you replayed the conversation in your mind. When you got to the part where you took his hand, you mentally smacked yourself in the forehead. He was fine until then, you realized. After that it was awkward, because he doesn't want you to get the wrong idea. He's telling you that he doesn't think of you in 'that way'. You leaned your head back against the headboard and squeezed your eyes shut, willing the tears not to fall.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It's been almost ten years since you came to live in the bunker. You met the Winchesters through a mutual friend, Sheriff Donna Hanscum, whom you've known since high school. She never knew you were a hunter until after Sam and Dean showed up at that spa she went to. You had caught wind of some strange things happening at that spa, so you went in with her, but undercover as a patient.

You and Sam clicked instantly, becoming best friends. You both nerded out about the same things, like books, sci-fi, and research. You liked the same kinds of movies and were more at home in a library than the bar.

You and Dean were a different story. At first, you didn't get along at all, because he thought you would be someone else he'd have to be responsible for. That is, until you stepped in front of the swipe of a werewolf's claws to save his life. Despite your condition, you still managed to fire off three silver bullets at its heart to kill it before collapsing from your injury. After that, Dean seemed to see you as a fellow hunter, rather than a civilian he had to constantly keep watch over.

Too bad he didn't also see you as a woman--full of passion, kindness and understanding, with eyes only for him. You watched as he showered his attention and affections on countless other women, just not on the one woman who truly knew and loved him. So, you handled your feelings by using the Winchester Method: you shoved them down out of the way and pretended that they didn't exist.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A couple of hours later, you carefully got out of bed and wandered into the kitchen. You picked up the teakettle, filled it with water and added several pinches of your special blend of tea. While you waited, you grabbed your favorite cup from the cabinet and took a seat at the table.

"Well hello, dear! Nice to see ye up and around, 'specially after what ye've been through, darlin'," a voice from behind you said. You turned to see it was Rowena, which brought a small smile to your face.

"Hello, Rowena," you replied. "Any luck figuring out what we're up against?" you asked.

"Not yet, dearie. Still workin' on it, but don't ye worry abou' it," Rowena assured you.

"I hope so," you murmured. "Would you like some tea?" you asked.

Rowena shook her head and smiled. At that moment, Sam, Dean and Castiel came into the kitchen and walked over to the table. Sam and Cas each squeezed your shoulder as they took their seats. "Hey, sweetheart, you must be feeling better," Dean remarked as he kissed the top of your head.

You smiled and nodded. The teakettle whistled that it was ready to serve, so you rose from the table. "You guys want some tea? I made some from my secret stash," you grinned.

The boys all nodded, so you got out three extra cups, along with the cream, sugar and honey. You poured cups of tea for everyone, then resumed your seat at the table. You added a bit of creamer and some sugar to your tea.

"So, what's in this 'special blend' of tea you made?" Sam asked.

"Well, it's got some dried orange zest in it, some cinnamon, black tea leaves, ground nutmeg. And a few other secret ingredients," you winked conspiratorially.

"Mmm, I think it's delicious," Cas remarked as he took another sip, with Sam nodding in agreement.

Dean watched as you absently stirred your tea, while the others talked among themselves. Your furrowed brow showed him you were still coming to terms with what had happened in the past few days.

It had not yet been determined what kind of curse you'd been hit with, and he knew you had to be worried. Your eyes glistened a bit with unshed tears which told him you might be more than a little scared of that unknown. You stood up from the table just as he was about to reach out for your hand to comfort you.

"I think I'll go take a shower. Might feel a bit more human if I do, after wearing the same clothes for the past few days. Excuse me," you murmured as you left the kitchen. Dean stared after you, wanting so badly to help you. To show you it was okay to be scared, and that he would do everything in his power to figure out how to reverse the spell.

At that moment, Crowley waltzed into the kitchen. "Hello, Mother, Feathers, Moose, Squirrel," he drawled. "Where's our little Mouse? Can't complete the clubhouse roll call unless she's here to sound off," he smirked.

"She left to go take a shower," Dean grumbled as he brushed past Crowley out of the kitchen.

Crowley noticed Dean's full cup of tea and took a drink. "This is wonderful, delicious, wherever did it come from?" he asked. Sam told him it was from your own homemade blend of tea and spices. Crowley shrugged and continued to drink the tea.

As the men continued to drink the tea, Rowena noticed a bit of a change in each one. Their thoughts seemed to become more focused towards you, and had also turned more amorous in nature. Before she could voice her observations, Sam left the table after downing the rest of his tea.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After your shower, you brought your favorite book and settled into a chair in the library. Once you had made yourself comfortable, Sam approached you and knelt beside your chair. He smiled up at you as he took your hand in his and brushed his lips across the back of it.

"Sam, what's going on?" you asked in bewilderment.

"N-nothing, I just wanted to spend some time with you, be around you. What book are you reading?" he asked.

You were a bit confused at the sudden focus of Sam's attention on you. But you pushed it aside for the moment and explained the plot of the book you were reading. He asked if he could read it aloud to you, which you politely declined. Then he broke out the best version of his puppy-dog eyes, and you were powerless to resist. You relented with a smile, and he suggested that you curl up with him on the couch to be more comfortable.

Moving from your chair to the couch, you made sure to bring your favorite blanket with you. Once you got all settled, you showed Sam where you left off in your book so he could start reading. The gentle lilt of Sam's voice as he read to you caused your eyelids to feel heavy until you could no longer keep them open.

Dean walked through the library just in time to see you curled up with Sam, and for Sam to press a kiss to your forehead. An uncomfortable feeling settled into his chest, but he had no idea why. He shook it off for the moment and headed for the garage to work on the Impala.

About an hour later, you awoke to find Sam's arms around you and his cheek pressed against your forehead. You tried to extract yourself, but Sam tightened his embrace a bit more. "Mmm, don't go Baby, stay here with me a little longer," he mumbled.

Baby? you wondered. Since when am I 'Baby' to anyone around here?!? your thoughts screamed.

You managed to wriggle yourself out of his arms and into a upright position. "Sam, wake up. Sam! Wake up!" you shook his arm to try and rouse him. Your efforts were unsuccessful, because he stayed asleep. Puzzled, you picked up your book and your blanket then returned to your room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, you woke to find that Castiel had set the table for the two of you to have breakfast. "Good morning," he greeted you with a wide smile.

Not quite awake yet, you answered him with a yawn then a smile. "Good morning, Cas. What's going on here?" you asked, gesturing towards the table.

"I thought it would be nice to have breakfast made for you when you awakened, Honeybee," he stated.

'Honeybee'? What is going on with the men in this bunker lately?!? you thought. "Well, you certainly brought out one of my favorites, peanut butter and banana toast," you grinned.

You reached for two slices of bread from the wrapper. Cas took them from your hands before you could put them in the toaster. "Please, allow me," he said. He added the bread to be toasted and proudly pushed down on the lever.

When it was finished, the bread popped up, perfectly golden brown, with no burnt edges. Cas placed the toast on a plate and set it on the table. Just as he was about to pick up the knife to spread the peanut butter, you stopped him. "Cas, not that I don't appreciate it, but I don't mind fixing my own toast. You've done so much already, why don't you take a little break?" you suggested.

His face fell a bit, then all of a sudden lit up. "I just remembered that you like to drink milk with your peanut butter toast. Be back in just a moment," he grinned, tapping the end of your nose before heading to the fridge. Cas returned shortly with a small glass of cold milk. "Here you are, Honeybee," he remarked shyly.

"Thank you, Cas. Exactly what I needed. So, what are your plans today?" you asked.

"I'm glad you asked. I was going to see if you would like to go on a walk with me, maybe see some wildflowers? I know of a lovely field we could visit, if you are interested....?" he asked, his voice full of hope.

You were planning on doing some research to try and find something to counteract the curse. You also didn't want to be too far away from the bunker in case a cure was found. From the look on Castiel's face, though, you couldn't bear to disappoint him.

"That sounds lovely, Cas. We could leave in an hour, if you wish. That would give me time to finish my breakfast, take a shower and all that," you added.

"I shall endeavor to keep myself busy until you return, my sweet Honeybee," Cas said as he took hold of your hand and gently kissed the back. With a whoosh of his wings, he was gone.

As soon as he had gone out of sight, you slumped over the table, putting your head in your hands. Dean arrived in the kitchen shortly after hearing you let out a groan of frustration. "What's with you this morning?" he asked.

You returned to an upright position. "Good morning, Dean. Cas made me breakfast today, which was very sweet, and now he wants me to go with him to check out a field of wildflowers. I think there's something very strange going on around here. I wish I knew what it was," you grumbled.

"Why is Cas wanting to spend time with you and do things for you 'strange'? Do you not enjoy his company? I mean, if you don't want to go, just tell him. Don't string him along, Princess," Dean retorted.

You looked at Dean with a mixture of shock, anger and hurt on your face. "Like I said, something strange is going on around here. First Sam, then Cas, now you," you retorted as you bolted from your chair.

Dean closed his eyes and instantly felt remorse for what he had said, because he knew you weren't like that. You didn't play games with people's emotions, and when you loved someone, you did it with your whole heart. Unfortunately, doing so had led to your heart being broken by too many others along the way.

He understood about your independent nature, which was one of the things he admired about you. To have anyone do anything for you was sometimes hard for you to accept. You were so used to being the one who cared for or catered to others, not so much the other way around.

As he gave it more thought, he realized that neither Sam nor Cas had shown any romantic interest in you until recently. Dean began to wonder if maybe you had a point about strange things going on in the bunker. He promised himself that when you came back from your outing with Cas, that he would apologize.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You and Cas spent a lovely afternoon walking through a field of wildflowers. Cas told you about every species of flower and what each color meant. He found a spot underneath a willow tree, where he produced a picnic basket containing assorted fruits and cheeses. You showed him how to make flower crowns as someone had once shown you. Then you placed one on his head and took a picture.

Upon your return to the bunker, you searched for a vase to hold the wildflowers you and Cas had picked. As you arranged the flowers, Cas placed his hands on your shoulders, then began to run them up and down your arms. When you had finished with the flowers, Cas took one of your hands in his and led you into the library.

Cas punched some buttons on his phone. After appearing quite frustrated at times, he finally relaxed and music started playing from his phone. He pulled you into his arms and started dancing with you, a love-struck grin on his face.

At one point, Cas spun you out away from him, which is the exact moment that Dean walked into the library. He looked at you and Cas dancing with a raised eyebrow, which caused your face to grow warm. "C-Cas, th-thank you for a lovely afternoon," you stammered. "Sorry," you mumbled as you brushed past Dean and out of the room.

"Cas? Is there something going on between you two?" Dean asked.

A large grin spread across Cas' face as he sighed deeply before answering Dean's question. "I'm not sure, Dean. I've never felt the way I do except when I'm with her. I would be the luckiest man in all of Creation if she loved me," he answered dreamily. Then he seemed to snap back to reality. "I must go, I am needed elsewhere," Cas said, returning to what Dean considered "normal" for Cas.

Dean shook his head, even more confused as to what was going on. First, you were snuggled up with Sam, then dancing with Castiel. He decided to check in with Rowena to see if she knew anything more.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

While Dean was in the library trying to figure things out, you were sitting on the edge of your bed trying to do the same thing. A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts. Your visitor was literally the last person you ever expected to see. Crowley had on an apron, covered in flour and bits of what looked like cake batter stuck to it.

"Good evening, Love," he bowed and took your hand in his. "I was wondering if you would consider, um, helping me with a small problem. You see, someone told me you were a fan of cheesecakes, and I ran into some difficulty trying to make you one. Might I request the honor of your assistance in the kitchen, so you can show me the proper....technique?" he suggested.

It took every ounce of self-control you had not to break out into laughter or tears. The absurd events of the last two days were leading you to believe the witch put an insanity curse on you. Quickly regaining your composure, you told Crowley that you would meet him in the kitchen in about 10 minutes. "Until then, my darling," he remarked softly, placing a lingering kiss on your cheek.

As soon as the door was closed, you sank down on the edge of the bed again. "This is too weird," you whispered to yourself. "Now Crowley wants to spend time with me?? This is some curse I've got on me. I think it's making me lose my mind," you mused.

When you opened your door, you heard a heated argument occurring in the kitchen between Sam, Cas and Crowley. You walked slowly to the kitchen, catching bits and pieces of the harsh words spoken between the men. Each one claimed to love you more than the other two, and promised to fight anyone who dared try and take you away. Insults were traded and fists were raised, ready to do battle.

You turned around and were headed back to your room when you ran smack into Dean. "Well, Princess, looks like you hit the jackpot in there," he snarled, his arms folded across his chest.

"I--" was all you could say.

"Congratulations, you've got every woman's fantasy going on in that kitchen. Three men fighting for her affections," he taunted.

"Not every woman, Dean. Not me," you choked out as you pushed away from him, tears streaming down your face.

Dammit! How did I end up doing and saying the exact opposite of what I wanted? Dean thought. I need to go talk to Rowena, see if she knows anything else about this curse, he decided. First things first, though, he was going to put a stop to what was happening in the kitchen.

"ENOUGH!" he thundered. Sam, Castiel and Crowley all turned to look at Dean. "Everyone retreat to a neutral corner until we can figure out what's going on," he ordered.

Dean turned down the hallway to Rowena's room. As he came around the corner, you briefly met his gaze as you passed him in the hallway, only to quickly drop it again. Dean reached out his hand for yours. "Wait," he pleaded.

You shook your head at him, fresh tear tracks evident on your cheeks. "No, Dean. I don't want to talk to you right now. I never meant for any of this to happen. I think it's best if I remove myself from the equation for the time being. At least until Rowena can figure out how to reverse the spell," you finished. With that, you closed and locked your bedroom door.

Dean's heart ached to hear the pain in your voice and to see your tear-stained face. He knocked on Rowena's door and entered her room when she granted him access. "What can I do fer ye, Dean?" she asked in her lilting accent.

He mentioned how he had just left the kitchen, where Sam, Cas and her beloved son were fighting over you. "They've all been paying extra attention to her, being all romantic and stuff. What's weird, is that they've never even shown any kind of interest in her before," Dean explained.

"Sam's reading with her and snuggling on the couch, Cas is taking her out for a picnic and to pick wildflowers." He turned to Rowena, pointed his finger at her and narrowed his eyes. "Your son is wearing an apron, asking her to teach him how to bake a damn cheesecake," he huffed. "I swear, it's as if that witch cast a--" he broke off.

"A love spell?" Rowena asked. "Tha's exactly what it was," she confirmed.

"Can you reverse it?" Dean asked.

"I can, but.....," she started.

"But what?" Dean asked.

"It's no' real love that Samuel, Castiel and Fergus have for her. When they realize that fact, it's bound to be a bit awkward at first. They may act a little distant towards her, and she will think she’s done something wrong to make them pull away. She'll believe that the friendship she has with each of them has been ruined, that it's over. It could break her kind and generous heart," Rowena explained.

Dean dropped his gaze to the floor. He knew Rowena was right, and that you would probably isolate yourself in an attempt to maintain order in the bunker.

"Of course, once the right man declares his feelings for the wee lassie, her heart will mend. In time, anyway. Then Samuel, Castiel and Fergus won't feel like they have to stay away from her," she continued.

Dean noticed how she had suddenly focused her attention on him and scoffed. "Whoa, do you mean me? That I should declare my feelings for her? I'm not--"

"Aren't ye?" Rowena asked softly. "Search your heart, Dean. Ye've been in love with her for a while now, haven't ye? Seeing her together with another man, let alone three? Doing the type of romantic things that ye've thought abou' doin' with her? I'd say it's enough to make any normal man just a wee bit jealous. I can only imagine what it's doin' to ye," she remarked.

"Pfft," was the best response he could muster for the moment. "Start working on that spell reversal. I need to head into town for some supplies," Dean replied.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, Rowena announced that she had prepared the antidote for the witch's love spell. Turns out, it was your tea that had triggered the exaggerated feelings of love. You touched the tea blend with your fingers to add it to the water in the teakettle. Then, the effects of the spell were transferred to whomever drank the tea.

Each man drank the concoction and waited for its effects to kick in, which didn't take long once the antidote was consumed. As predicted, there were profuse apologies to you from all three men. They all assured you that though they didn't think of you romantically, they still loved you in their own way. You smiled and assured them that you were fine, no harm done, that you knew that the right someone was still out there.

But behind your closed bedroom door, it was a different story. At night, you laid awake, staring at the ceiling. You understood that their attention to you was only because of the spell.

You remembered how Sam, Castiel and Crowley all looked at you. You tried not to think about how it would feel to have Dean look at you just once the way they did. Still, you knew that the chances of Dean feeling that way about you for real were slim to none. Especially after everything he said while the others were under the spell.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Today marked a full week since you'd gone into hiding, emerging only for little more than a shower and something to eat. You took most of your meals in your room, instead of eating at the table with everyone else. Dean was growing increasingly worried about you, and was determined to get you to break out of your sanctuary.

He knocked at your door relentlessly, trying to coax you out with offers of a movie marathon with your favorite snacks. He even suggested a midnight stargazing outing in the Impala. However, nothing seemed to be working.

At one point you heard, "You can't ignore me forever, sweetheart," he muttered against your door. Oh yeah? You thought defiantly. Watch me.

Halfway through week two of your self-imposed exile, you needed a new book to read. You carefully unlocked and opened your bedroom door, then looked down the hall. No one was in sight in either direction, so you tiptoed out of your room and into the library. You chose a nice, thick book, then rushed back to your room before anyone could see you. Once back inside your room, you quickly closed and re-locked the door, breathing a deep sigh of relief.

"Hey, sweetheart," a voice rumbled from someone sitting in the chair in the corner.

The heavy book dropped from your hands and nearly fell on your toes. You gasped in surprise and clutched at your hammering heart. "What did I tell you about sneaking up on me?!? Not to do it, if I recall," you retorted.

"Didn't really leave me much choice, though, did you? I wasn't sure if you ever wanted to see me again, but I wanted to see you. Been hiding in here for almost two weeks now," Dean remarked softly.

"I've had my reasons, Dean. This whole curse thing has left me more confused than ever. Sam, Cas and even Crowley never thought of me romantically until that spell came along. And you? You've made your feelings clear about the whole situation at every turn.

"So," you continued. "On the one hand, it takes a 'love spell' for guys like Sam, Cas and Crowley to want to be with someone like me. On the other hand, when I am with someone like them, you don't like it and make nasty remarks about the whole thing. Please tell me, Dean, where's the incentive to make me want to be anywhere but in my room by myself? Hmm?" you challenged.

Dean rose from the chair in the corner and strode over to the door where you were still standing. He stood close enough for you to detect his woodsy cologne, mixed with the mint of his mouthwash. He reached up and tenderly tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

"I understand how you feel. But, before I do this, I need you to know that I have always loved you," he said softly. The hand that had so recently fixed your hair slid around to the back of your head. It pulled you closer until your lips meshed with Dean's in a hungry, demanding kiss.

Dean swallowed the soft moan of pleasure that escaped your lips. His free arm snaked around your waist to bring you flush against his body. His kisses roamed everywhere, trying to leave no territory untouched. Your cheeks, your neck, collarbone and more was all fair game for Dean. "So beautiful," he murmured against your shoulder.

"Dean," you whispered. You reached up to cup Dean's face with your hands, stroking his cheek with your thumbs. You tangled your fingers into his spiky hair and gently tugged on it, earning a groan of appreciation.

Dean's hands roamed up and down your back, gripping and releasing the fabric of your shirt. When the need for air became too great, the kissing was broken, leaving you and Dean each trying to catch your breath. You put your foreheads together as your breathing slowly returned to normal.

Dean took your hands and guided you to sit next to him on the edge of your bed. "Baby, I'm so sorry for what I said to you before when that whole thing with the spell was going on. I guess it was because I was jealous of Sam, Cas and even Crowley," he admitted with a sheepish grin.

"Oh, my love. There wasn't anything to be jealous of. It was kind of weird, all of a sudden having those guys chasing after me," you giggled. You brought your hand down to cup his cheek, running your thumb over his stubbled jawline. "It's always been you that I've been in love with for so long. But, I thought you'd only ever see me as a fellow hunter, or at most, a best friend. Never as the woman who loves you," you replied softly.

"Darlin', what I see before me is a woman who lights up a room whenever she walks into it. A woman with a kind and generous heart that tends to put the needs of others before her own. I see a woman with an exceptional sense of humor, who's smart and sexy as hell. And just as she has chosen me, I choose her. Every time," he finished.

"I love you, Dean," you said softly.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he replied as he leaned in to recapture your lips in a soft, sweet kiss.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tags: @supernatural-jackles @wayward-mikaelson @jawritter @deanwanddamons @janicho88 @magssteenkamp @lyarr24 @miss-nerd95 @hobby27 @jay-and-dean @waywardbaby

#spn bi-weekly writing challenge #dean x reader #dean winchester #spn imagine #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction

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shotgun--rider · 4 years

Text

Love Your Neighbor - One

A Dean x Reader Series

PART ONE

Y/N just wants her neighbor to find some sense of decency and shut the hell up. Her so-called brilliant plan gets messy, though, when it turns out that Dean Winchester is actually kind of perfect, and maybe taking her friends’ advice wasn’t the best move after all.

Word Count: 2900

Warnings: Allusions to sex, Dean Winchester is a fanboy

Dean Winchester isn’t a bad guy. As far as you can tell, actually, he seems to be a perfectly normal, average, unassuming guy. You’ve shared a few elevators and gotten your mail at the same time, waved politely on your way to take out the trash, and your beater car lives next door to his pristine ‘67 Impala in the underground parking ramp. Considering that the neighbors in your last apartment almost blew up the building making meth, living next to a harmless, pie-eating contractor sounded like heaven when you signed the lease.

There’s just one little problem. And, strictly speaking, it’s none of your business if Dean Winchester also likes banging everything with legs in a twenty mile radius. More power to him, really. It’s just that the walls are cripplingly thin in this building, and while you’re happy your neighbor has a thriving sex life, you’d rather not be forced to listen to it every single night.

Laying flat out on your bed, clad in the least amount of clothing you can pull off while still being decent, you grit your teeth. It’s a scorching night in July and the A/C in your unit has given up the ghost, leaving you to sprawl out sweating, hoping in vain for a cool breeze from the fire escape. And somehow, in spite of the fact that moving two feet has you wanting to pant like a dog with heat stroke, Dean Winchester has found the motivation to work up a whole other kind of sweat on the other side of your wall. Loudly.

The apartment you’re renting is a pretty cheap one, and you knew what you’d signed up for when you signed the lease. It works for your purposes, and it’s not like you have loads of spare cash lying around anyway. The issue with the tiny one-bedroom is that it only accommodates your stuff in one possible layout, and yes, that does in fact mean that your bed is directly on the wall you share with Dean. In fact, you’re pretty sure your apartments are mirror images of one another, which is only an issue when he’s railing Lisa two feet from your head and banging the headboard on your shared wall.

‘Lisa’ has been around for almost a month now, which as far as you’re aware is a new record for Dean, and she moans like a porn star that’s trying too hard. It can’t possibly be natural, you’ve decided, because sure, sex is good, but nobody in real life is having sex that’s that good. And sure, you’ll concede that Dean is an incredibly attractive guy, from what you’ve seen of him, but you’ve learned the hard way many times that that doesn’t automatically make them good in bed. Which means Lisa is just being obnoxiously dramatic.

You thump your head in frustration against your pillow, contemplating pulling it over your ears as a new round of moaning starts up. God, how does anyone have sex for that long, anyway?

“Yes, Dean, harder...right there… oh, fuck, yeah, yes, yes, yes!” She subsides into unintelligible screaming, punctuated with the occasional lower-pitched groan and the shuffle-shuffle-bang of the bed frame against the wall.

“Oh my god, yeah, I’m gonna come, please make me come,”

Cursing under your breath, you sit up, adjusting the spaghetti straps of your tank top as they try to slide down your shoulder. “Nobody says that shit,” you grumble aloud, shuffling in defeat off of your bed and out to sit on the fire escape.

It’s not any cooler out here, and you can still vaguely hear Dean and Lisa getting it on, but at least your bed is no longer vibrating. Leaning forward on the iron railing, you pull out your phone and send a vomiting emoji to your best friend. There’s no context needed; she’s heard you complain enough times to know exactly what’s usually happening between the hours of ten p.m. and midnight in your building.

Kinda impressed with this dude tbh, Meg replies back instantly. I wish I got off that much.

You answer her with an eye roll. The point is I don’t want to hear it

Just tell him to shut the fuck up. Or kill him. You know like a bazillion ways

Once, when you’d only been living there for a handful of weeks, you’d thrown a shoe at the wall between you in a fit of ill-handled rage. You’d followed that up with taking off your other shoe and repeatedly thumping the wall with the heel, just in case they thought the original noise had been an accident.

The resulting blissful silence had only lasted for about a minute, after which it was followed by a bout of laughter, and then more enthusiastic sex. No, Dean Winchester was evidently not the type of person to back down after being told to shut the fuck up, and you’d never quite managed to get the courage to just attack him about his sex life in front of the downstairs mailboxes.

That doesn’t mean, however, that you haven’t been thinking up subtler ways to deal with the issue. And now, because living on the fire escape until October doesn't actually sound like a pleasant experience, you might just have the perfect excuse.

The ‘67 Chevy that lives in the parking space next to yours gets periodically replaced with a slightly rusty old pickup, the words Winchester Contracting emblazoned on the doors. And it’s not like you haven’t seen Dean sporting paint-stained jeans and a bag of tools before. He’s clearly the obvious, convenient choice to ask about the A/C. And if you happen to interrupt his bang-fest while complaining about the heat, well, that’s just two birds with one stone.

You don’t bother with shoes for the short walk down the thinly-carpeted hall, only realizing once you’re standing in front of his door that you’re not really dressed for this. That could only work in your favor, though, right? Maybe a barely-clothed girl showing up would send Lisa into a jealous rage and she would leave on the spot, rendering Dean mercifully single and silent. And maybe you just need to solve this so you can get some god damned sleep, you thought wryly.

Before you can change your mind, you knock sharply on the door of apartment 914, rocking back on your heels as you wait, straining your ears for any noise from within. For a moment, there’s silence, and then a tell-tale, high pitched squeal. Nope, they’re definitely still shamelessly boinking, as your old roommate Donna would have announced cheerfully.

At this point, it’s just getting a little ridiculous. Clenching your jaw in anger, you raise your fist to pound on the door again, harder this time. You have a book deadline in two weeks, no A/C, and you just want some fucking peace and quiet. Clearly, the universe has just chosen to laugh at you instead.

Resisting the urge to hiss aloud in irritation, you pound on the door once more, this time hearing soft voices from inside. There’s shuffling, a muffled yelp, some slightly uneven footsteps, and then the door swings open to reveal Dean Winchester, irritated, half dressed, and making no attempt to hide what he’s been up to.

“What?” he snaps out, all green eyes and sex hair and bare chest, which somehow manages to short-circuit your very angry brain, leaving you stuttering in his doorway. Seriously, though, knowing you have an attractive neighbor and seeing him in nothing but a pair of sweats are two different things.

“Uh,” you mentally shake yourself. You didn’t come here to drool over him, you’re here to solve a problem. “Listen, I’m really sorry to bother you,” you start. You’re not really all that sorry, but you need the time to try to organize your thoughts.

“Oh, are you?” Dean returns grumpily, crossing his arms over his chest and Jesus but that’s a lot of tanned skin and biceps right in front of your face.

“Yeah,” you falter, “I just was wondering if you could maybe help me?” You were laying it on a bit thick now, but who could really blame you? “The A/C quit on me and I know you have that construction business…”

“Dean? Who is it?” That would be Lisa, evidently, coming to the doorway in a bathrobe and, unsurprisingly, looking stunningly beautiful. She blinks at you over his shoulder, pushing dark hair out of her face and giving you an uncertain smile as she looks over your tank top and skimpy sleep shorts.

“Oh I’m sorry,” you somehow manage to keep the sarcasm out of your voice. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,”

“You’re not,” Dean says, and, behind him, Lisa raises affronted eyebrows. Maybe there is trouble in paradise. Filing that information away for later, you shift on your feet, pushing some of your still-slightly-sweaty hair off of your forehead. Dean seems to jolt at the motion, glancing back into his apartment and opening the door wider. “Right, yeah,” he runs a hand through his hair, doing nothing to quiet the wild spikes. “You said A/C? Lemme just…”

Dean disappears behind the half open door, one bare foot still holding it in place, and you can hear him moving something around, saying something in a low voice to Lisa, who audibly huffs back like she’s annoyed. When the rest of his body reappears, he’s got a black Metallica shirt most of the way on (a shame, really), and he’s carrying a slim black canvas bag of tools.

“--probably not gonna take long,” he’s saying to Lisa over his shoulder, and it occurs to you suddenly that this plan requires you to bring Dean inside your apartment. Which makes sense, obviously, given that you actually do need the air conditioning fixed, and as long as he’s doing that he’s not banging his girlfriend, but you’re kind of awkward at the best of times and this is probably going to require conversation. Picture everyone naked, Donna would say, but somehow, having seen him shirtless really, really doesn’t help.

Resigned to your fate, you shuffle back to your own apartment with Dean following, and you wince at the blast of hot air greeting you as soon as you swing open the door. Compared to the hallway, it’s like stepping into a particularly miserable sauna, and Dean huffs a surprised noise behind you. “Damn, you weren’t kidding, were you?”

You show him over to the sad little A/C unit wordlessly, hopping up on your kitchen table and crossing your arms as you watch him squint at it. “Thank you,” falls from your lips belatedly, and you have to remember that for all your irritation with him, Dean Winchester is still, fundamentally, the kind of man who apparently lets his neighbors interrupt sex so he can fix their broken appliances in the middle of the night. “I know it’s really late…”

“S’fine,” Dean shrugs, neatly pulling off the cover to the air conditioning and going after something inside with a tool you couldn’t have named if your life depended on it. “This way you won’t have to sleep on the fire escape.” He smiles at you over his shoulder, those green eyes bright, and your retort about sleeping on the fire escape anyway because of him gets lost somewhere in transit. Not for the first time, you wonder if this is really the brightest idea you’ve had.

“Still,” you say instead, “you probably don’t want to come home from work and do more work,”

“It’s really not a big deal, Y/N,” Dean glances back at you. “It’s Y/N, right?”

“Yeah,” you confirm with a little shake of your head. “What’d you do, read my mail?”

“No,” Dean says quickly, followed by a slightly sheepish, “Maybe. Look, the mailroom’s tiny,”

He’s not wrong, and since you initially collected his name from the moans through your bedroom wall, you’re not sure you’re in a position to talk. When you look back at him, Dean’s wearing a slightly hesitant, definitely-not-adorable look on his face, and you laugh softly, watching him break out into a relieved smile in return. And damn it, he wasn’t supposed to be funny. It’s far easier to vilify someone who’s only kindness has been holding the elevator doors a few times, because plenty of colossal douchebags still have surface-level manners.

But now your A/C is humming contentedly, working overtime to compensate for its lapse, and you have your loud-ass neighbor to thank for it. Your funny, smiling, half-dressed-at-midnight neighbor who’s currently giving you a great view of his ass in sweatpants as he bends over to grab his tools. Fuck.

“Thank you,” you get out when your brain gets back online, and you hope it was a brief enough lapse that he didn’t notice. “I might actually make my deadline now that I’m not dying,”

Dean raises an eyebrow at you, shifting to lean back on the wall. “Deadline for what?”

“I’m a writer,” you explain, shaking your head ruefully. “Which is why I live in a crackerbox apartment with shitty air in the first place,”

Dean’s green eyes perk up in interest, and that was hardly the reaction you were expecting. “Oh yeah? What d’you write?”

You uncross your arms and slide off the kitchen table, crossing the living room to pull a black-and-red hardcover out of your hanging bookshelf. “Murder books,” you deadpan, watching for a reaction as you flash him the cover, featuring a man’s limp hand lying in a pool of blood. There’s kind of a small part of you that’s hoping you’ll scare him out of your apartment, because now you’re not really sure how to get rid of him.

Surprising you as usual, Dean’s mouth drops open shamelessly instead. He gapes at you like a very handsome fish for a few moments before his tongue darts out to wet his lip and then he’s tripping over himself, talking almost too rapidly for you to follow. “No freakin’ way! I didn’t...I mean, you’re Y/F/I L/N. You never have a picture on the jacket--” Dean trails off, a flush rising in his cheeks as he collects himself, only serving to make the freckles dashed across his face more obvious. It’s kind of, maybe, just a little bit cute. “I’ve read them all,” he blurts out, stuck somewhere between shy and kind of proud. “They’re...this is awesome,”

You can’t help but laugh a little, surprised but pleased with the reaction. Your books do fairly well, garnering a moderate amount of attention and the occasional creepy fan message, but Dean’s enthusiasm is...pure. He’s standing in your living room with wide eyes and an embarrassed blush creeping its way down under the collar of his t-shirt, and damn it you were supposed to be mad at him.

“I’ll sign copies for you as a thank you for the A/C,” comes out of your traitorous mouth instead. “If you want,”

Dean lights up like a little kid at Christmas, warmth spreading in your chest at his reaction. “That would be awesome. I mean, yeah. Yes, please. Thanks,” He says roughly. Dean swings the compact tool bag awkwardly, rocking back on his heels for a moment, and then he looks hastily back at your little air conditioner. “Well, that’s done, so…”

“Right,” you return quickly, suddenly painfully aware that it’s past midnight as you turn in the direction of the door. “I really do appreciate it, Dean. Bring me whatever you want me to sign sometime, okay?”

He’s still got that terribly endearing, vaguely-stunned expression on his face when you lock the door behind him.

The air’s had a chance to start working while you were talking with Dean, and you end up spread like a starfish on your bed after he leaves, reveling in the cooling air and the blessed silence. It’s the best sleep you’ve had in months.

Of course, because the universe and everything in it hates you with a mad passion, the reprieve only lasts two days. You’re sitting cross legged on your floor, scowling at your laptop and your misbehaving chapter, still cringing at the latest biting deadline reminder from your agent, when a soft whimper catches your attention.

For a moment, you’re prepared to dismiss it, hoping for the first and only time in your life that your apartment has rats. Kinky rats. “Fuck yeah, oh my god, want your cock so bad!”

You flop on your back on the floor helplessly, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes like that’s somehow going to make a difference. There’s a large part of you that just wants to shout through the wall that nobody in real life says shit like that when they’re having sex, but it probably wouldn’t do any good. “You have got to be kidding me,” you whisper aloud.

Then again, you weren’t sure what you were expecting. Getting Dean to fix your air conditioning hadn’t actually involved addressing his stupidly loud sexcapades. Because, of course, the thought of bringing that up to him made you want to crawl in a hole and die of embarrassment.

Defeated, you grabbed for your phone and pulled up your text conversation with Meg.

I need your help.

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #x reader #reader insert #series #supernatural fanfiction #spn

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etraytin · 4 years

Note

west wing gang on day 14 of self quarantine?

(Okay, assume for the purposes of this fic that the US election schedule is based on reality and not the show’s weird two-year offset, okay? So everything is happening in 2020 instead of 2018 or 2022.)

“Does my face look flushed to you?” Josh demanded.

“Well, you’ve been yelling for the past ten minutes, so...” Donna pointed out.

Josh frowned, leaning closer to his laptop. “No, I’m being serious. Do I look flushed to you? I feel hot.”

Donna flicked her eyes down, studying him through the screen. “Nope,” she decided. “Just normally enraged by politics. Did you take your temperature?”

“Well yeah, of course I took my temperature,” he replied, grimacing. “I took it three times.”

“And what did it say?” she asked patiently.

“98.9,” he admitted. “But I normally run cool! That’s high for me!”

“Are you coughing?”

“No, but my throat feels scratchy.”

She smiled faintly. “Did I mention the part where you’ve been yelling for ten minutes?”

“Well I can’t help it!” he insisted. “We’re less than four months from the convention, we haven’t sewn up the nomination, we can’t hold a single goddamn rally or let the candidate shake anybody’s hand, we lose every news cycle to a new report about how sneezing is bad for you, I’m four hundred miles away from you and the kids and I can’t come home, the SATs are cancelled so god knows what that’ll do for Jo’s college search-”

“Josh,” Donna began gently, then more insistently. “Josh! JOSHUA! Calm down, take a breath!” She smiled when he subsided, for all he was still glaring at the screen. “I know it’s frustrating, and I miss you too, but it’s going to be okay,” she promised. “Sam's the prohibitive favorite atthis point, and the virtual Q&As have been very well-received.I've got data here showing a solid fifteen point lead in primarystates that have yet to vote, and twenty-five points against theRepublican candidate. Everything we're doing is working,” shereminded him.

“Not well enough!” Josh insisted. “I mean, how do we know?Maybe people aren't answering their phones. The only in-personpolling they can do is from people too stupid to stay home, so that'sgotta be skewed, right?”

“I think it's a pretty good indicator still,” Donna told himpatiently. “And yes, the SAT was canceled, but that just puts us inthe same boat as thousands of other families. Jo has a 4.0 GPA andgreat extracurriculars, plus a letter of recommendation from JosiahBartlet. I think she's going to be just fine.”

“Maybe,” Josh had to assent. “I feel like I have body aches.Body aches are a symptom, right?”

Donna's eyes sharpened. “Where are they at?”

“My lower back is killing me,” he informed her, “and myshoulders.”

She eased back. “Have you been using the lumbar cushion?” sheasked archly. “And how many hours have you been hunched over thatscreen?”

“What else is there to do?” Josh demanded, skirting the pillowquestion entirely.

“How about some exercise? You guys are in a three bedroom suite,right? There's room to at least do stretching. Oh, CJ's pinging me,I'll patch her in.”

Donna tapped a few keys and the screen split, now showing both herand a somewhat disheveled CJ. “Christ,” CJ muttered, brushing herhair flat, “I didn't realize we were video calling.”

Josh grinned at her, happy to see at least one person less puttogether than himself. “Hey CJ, long time no see! Are those yourpajamas?”

CJ glared at him. “I'm in quarantine, what do I have to getdressed up for?”

“Are you back in the States now?” Donna asked. “Did you haveany trouble?”

“Not much, all the restrictions are on Europe, but we're stillsupposed to quarantine for fourteen more days.” CJ adjusted thecamera up so only her head and neck were showing. In the background,Danny was wandering around the kitchen in a pair of University ofCalifornia boxer shorts, apparently unaware of the webcam. “How'sthe campaign?”

“Stalled,” Josh groused. “Dead in the water. Momentumless.”

“That's the spirit!” Sam told him cheerfully, coming from hisbedroom and fastening his cuffs as he leaned over Josh's shoulders.“Josh has been talking to Toby,” he confided to the womenonscreen. “I think we'll have to stop him.”

“Sounds like a good idea, Mr. Senator,” Donna agreed,grinning.

“You'll probably have to tie them both down in separate rooms,”CJ advised. “Long time no see, by the way. You're lookingremarkably happy for a man in quarantine with his campaign staff.”

“That's because I have America in my heart,” Sam told her withmock gravity. “Hi, Danny!” CJ glanced down at her own screen and abruptly yanked the webcamfocus back onto herself.

“Hi Sam!” Danny's voice echoed over theline. “You should be nicer to the press pool.”

“They're never nice to me back!” Sam pointed out. “I'mhaving a lot more luck with the women's magazines.”

“I bet you are,” CJ cackled. “Hey, have any of you heardfrom Abbey and Jed?”

“They're all right,” Donna reported. “Zoey, Charlie andtheir kids are out with them, and that farm is so remote it's aboutthe safest place they could be. Abbey says they've got enough cannedgoods in the basement for a year , if you don't mind a lot ofapple-based dishes.”

“And apple based trivia, I'm sure,” Josh put in. “How aboutyou, you're not going out, are you?”

“I'm being very safe,” Donna assured him. “I'm fromWisconsin, we stock up when there's a storm coming. Hey, Garret!”she called, snagging a fast-moving blur behind her chair. “Say hito Dad and everybody!”

Garret leaned down into the frame, all lanky body and light brownhair and a dimple just like his dad when he grinned. “Hi Dad andeverybody! Hey Dad, I can use your car while you're gone, right? Ipromise not to go where there are people.”

“What?” Josh squawked. “My car? No!”

“We'll talk about it later, kiddo,” Donna told Garret, shooinghim away.

“Donna!” Josh protested.

“Listen, mister, you haven't been stuck in the house forfourteen days with two bored teenagers,” Donna reminded him.“Even the internet has stopped being enough. It's your own damnfault for buying that middle-age crisis testosterone-mobile.” Josh frowned and tried to ignore the fact that CJ was alreadylaughing. “Fine, but when our insurance rates skyrocket, I'm goingto be the one saying I told you so.”

“That's a price I'm willing to let you pay,” Donna replied,serene once again. “You guys have another Q&A in a couple ofhours, right?”

“It's on healthcare in America, so it should be a barn-burner,”Sam agreed. “Are you going to watch?”

“Oh, I have a list of questions,” CJ assured him smoothly.

Sam's eyes widened. “That sounds a little terrifying.”

“I like to think of it as getting you prepared for the bigchair,” CJ told him. “You'll do fine. Josh, don't let him haveany more coffee.”

“I'll drink it all myself,” Josh promised.

“Josh!” Donna protested.

“Good man. Good luck!” CJ called cheerfully. “We're rootingfor you!”

“Just make sure you vote for me!” Sam called back as CJ'swindow blinked out. “I'm gonna go make some coffee,” he muttered,wandering off into the kitchen.

“Still feeling warm?” Donna asked when it was just the two ofthem again.

“Not as much,” Josh admitted rolling his shoulders. “Stillpretty stiff, though. I miss your backrubs.”

“As soon as you can get home, I'll make sure you get one,” shepromised. “Go take a long shower and some Advil, it'll help.”

“I miss you, too,” he told her seriously. “This sucks.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, slumping visibly. “But it's not forever.Take care of yourself, okay? Come home soon.”

“Doing my best,” he promised. “But next time we getquarantined, I'm bringing you with me. Love you.”

“Sounds like fun,” she laughed. “Love you too. Go do a job.”The picture winked out. Josh took his temperature again. 98.9. Stillokay for now. How long was this thing going to last?

This fic can also be found at Archive Of Our Own, username Etraytin, under the title Isolated Cases.

#the west wing #fanfiction #josh x donna #self-isolation #for me and my fictional characters #Anonymous

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nat-20s · 5 years

Note

ten donna prompt where theyve just got back from the tardis after seeing Some Shit. donna is a little shaken, and the doctor is trying to help as best he can.

sorry thi took so long lmao also i didn’t edit because this is full of FEELINGS and editing it would be Too Much anyway have fun

Donna was quiet.Donna had been quiet since she’s gotten back to the Tardis, maybeeven before then, though things had been a bit too chaotic for theDoctor to be able to accurately tell. A deep sense of wrongnesspervaded every cell of his beingas long as the air remained empty, so he tried to fill up the spacewith his own chatter. Pulling at various levers and knobs mostly todo something with the itchy sensation under his skin, he asked, “So,Donna! Where to next? Alien planet? Something historical? A nicecoffee shop? Maybe one of the ones with cats OH I love a good catcafe don’t you? Or are yu not much of a cat person? Well obviouslyyou’re not a cat person,not like those nuns, have I ever told you about those nuns, unlessyou are a cat person,just very well disguised. Donna, you’re not a secret cat person,right?”

Whenthat didn’t illicit even a “No, dumbo”but instead resulted in Donna continuing her dead-eyed stare at theconsole, The Doctor’s twohearts started to pound. Injecting a bit more false pep into hisvoice, he continued on, “ ‘Course, we don’t have topick a destination. I always like a good surprise, let the Tardis goon according to her whims. We’re sure to go somewhere excitingthen, the ol’ girl refuses to let us get bored.”

Donnasucked in a breath through her noise, turned glassy eyes towardshis, and said in a small voice,“I think I should go home.”

Small. Hervoice is small. Nopart of her should be small. Donna Noble is meant to take up space.Donna is meant to be loud and large and present andunapologetic about all of that. But her voice is small, her postureis hunched inwards, and she doesn’t exist enough in the room. TheDoctor knew what exactlyshe meant, but he had also foundthat on occasion, if he simply acted like something wasn’thappening, then it wouldn’t. It was rare, but it was worth a shot.“Right! Always good to have a break. Catch up with Wilf, hear somestories, love hisstories, maybe avoid a whole world ending disaster this time, allthat jazz! Sounds great! Molto bene!”

Donna’sbreath stuttered and a few tears spilled unbidden. She hadn’t meantto cry, she was trying really really hardnot to cry, but she supposed she couldn’t put it off forever. Voicea bit stronger but still small, too small, she replied, “ No,I mean, drop me off. Permanently. I think..I think you should findsomeone else. You’re stillgonna need someone but I don’t think that someone is me.”

“What?Why? No, wait, what? Donna,I, I suppose, I..no. Ifyou want to leave, I’ll understand, obviously, I’m not going toforce you to-”

“-Ofcourse I don’t want to.”

“Then..,”The Doctor stammered for about 30 seconds before he came up with theresponse, “what? Whywould you leave?”

Donna’svoice finally came back strong. It’s somehow worse. “Because! I’mnot enough, all right!”

“Notenough? Not enough how? Not enough for what?”

Donnagestured wildly to the room around her. “All of this! What if..whatif I was always missing things, big, grand universal things, becauseI was meant to! What if Lance, what if my own mother wasright! Maybe I’m just meant to care about, I dunno, tabloids androyal weddings and office gossip. I’m not supposed to have theuniverse in my charge! I don’t have medical knowledge or anindomitable will or an incorroptiple sense of right and wrong or anyof the things that would make me good at this! For Christ’s sake,you got hurt because I wanted to have a spa day, what kind ofcompanion is that? God, the more I think about it, the more I realizeyou can’t possibly want me here. Sure, you’ll tolerate me,because you have to, because I do that thing where I push and I pushand I push and don’t ever notice when someone’s just beingpolite, when they’re just putting up with me because I’venever given them a word in edgewise-”

Nomore comes out because Donna has started to hyperventilate. In awink, The Doctor is at her side, one of her hands wrapped in both ofhis own, and making sure that she’s looking at him. “Donna. Wejust fought off a creature with both physic and shape-shiftingabilities that are specifically meant to demoralize its targets. It’sgrueling. So these terrible thoughts,these feelings, thatyou’re having right now. I promise that they’ll pass, andI promise even more that they’re not true.”

Herbreathing slowed down, but she hardly looked any less distressed. Shewas at least able to kee speaking, throat no longer quite sotight. “That’s the thing though, it worked. What betterevidence is there that these thoughts are true than the fact that Icompletely froze. All those things had to do was look like mymother and say some of her greatest hits and I was paralyzed untilyou trapped it in an elevator shaft. What greater display is therethat I’m utterly uselesshere, just like shesaid?”

“Useless?!,”The Doctor sputteredfor a few moments if only so he wouldn’t scream. Ragingat the entirety of reality for the simple fact that his best friendcould ever feel this way about herself wasn’t going to helpmatters, but god did he want to. “Donna, nobodyis useless, least ofall you! Freezing one time doesn’t negate the fact that youobjectively put so much goodinto the universe.I’ve frozen more than that during afternoon tea. Donna, there arepeople that are alive and happy and freetoday because youshowed up and decided to help them. There are ballads and sculpturesand choirs made about youbecause you made thedeliberate choice to be kind. How many people can say that?”

“Yeah,but that’s not cause of me, is it? That’s just a side effect oftraveling with you, right? That’s what youdo, you go and helpand make things better and if someone happens to be coming along,they’re gonna get creditno matter what.”

“No,what? Not even slightly.Donna, you’ve seenme at my default, and it’s not good. Remember the Racnoss? You saidI just stood there, like a stranger, and you were right. I wouldn’thave left if you hadn’t pulled me out of there. Pompeii?I wouldn’t havelooked back. I wouldn’t have acknowledged myown daughter ifit hadn’t been for you. The good that we do is a testament to you,to how truly andincredibly brilliant you are.”

TheDoctor let go of her hand so that he could throw his own up in theair. “And, by the way, what’s this nonsenseabout me onlytolerating you?! I askedyou totravel with me. Youthink I go around offering to show the wonders of the stars toanybody? To people I onlytolerate? Forone I’m certainly not polite enough to put up with people that areonly tolerable and for twoI interrupted your weddingafter only 3 weeks because I missed you too much.What about that says tolerance?”

Theyweren’t out of the woods, but it felt like a victory nonethelesswhen Donna gave a hint ofa smile and replied,“Honestly just thought you has a thing for crashing my weddings.”

It’s teasing. That’s good.“Doing something twice hardly means you have a thingfor it. And to befair, both of those weddings needed a good crashing.”

The Doctor expected a rebuttal,at the very least a solid, “oi”. Instead, he gets a oneshouldered shrug and a “suppose so.” Less good. He decided tokeep talking. He felt like he could sing Donna’s praises for days,but he didn’t know if or when those praises would be effective.

“Andanother thing, this whole meant to be here concept. You found me.Twice. Great big grand old universe, all of time and space, infinitecosmos, and just when I’ve lost someone, just when I’vemost needed someone, thereyou were. Donna Noble, my savior.”

Donna sniffed, and scrubbed ather face with her hands, and smiled. She was coming back to herself.“Isn’t it more the other way around? Imean, you quite literally saved me less than 20 minutes again.”

“Maybewe save each other. Maybe that’s what makes this whole arrangementwork so well. I…..I know there are some things from your past thatI can’t fix, but when it comes to your future? I’m just hoping tobe in it. You are welcome to go home, I won’t stop you, but knowthat if you ever leave the Tardis, if you ever go back, that’sgoing to have to be yourchoice, because I’mgoing to fight to keep you around as long as I can.”

Donna searched his features,looking for any hints of insincerity. When she found none, she letout a deep breath, and said, “Okay. Okay.No, of course I don’twant to go home, not permanently. I believe you promised me somethingabout an intergalactically renowned adventure cruise? Let’s hitthat up and see how many hours it takes before it all goeshorrendously wrong.”

Some of the cheer in her voicewas carefully manufactured, but it was all right, because soon enoughit wouldn’t be. Soon enough, they’d be off, traveling and helpingand picking up pieces, as they do. As long as they were together andmoving forward, it would be alright.

#Anonymous #donna noble #nat talks doctor who #nat drabbles

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absentlyabbie · 4 years

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@raywritesthings replied to your post “sometimes, i’ll be watching a show or reading a book series, and that...”

Agreed with everything until someone mentioned Moffat Who and not RTD Who, which ended almost every season with the Doctor losing a companion and going right back into Angst Mode. Literally, the last few beats of Tennant’s performance in the series 2, 3 and 4 finales are almost exactly the same with varying levels of Sad. Whereas Moffat Who actually has Amy and Rory get together and navigate married life and how that balances with the Doctor etc. People always blame Moffat for RTD’s faults

hm, as op and the “someone” you’re referring to, let me just say that you could make an argument for this narrative problem in rtd’s relationship arcs, though i don’t entirely agree. and more on that in a second. but when i raised that particular point i especially meant that moffat plagued who with that narrative issue in a plot-structural way.

rtd shares some responsibility for this, sure, but moffat dialed it up to eleven and broke the knob off with one of his famously nonsensical “twists.” it was every season every conflict getting bigger and bigger and more astronomical, the fate of the universe, no wait time itself, no wait what can we blow up even bigger than that!!!

and my disagreement re: rtd’s use of this on character and relationship arcs comes down to the fact that both companions and the doctor had consistent growth (though not always positive growth! and growth doesn’t always have to be positive for there to have been actual character progression) through each season. (and yes i know by calling them seasons i make plain my americanness, but this just one person’s perspective anyways.)

season 1, you have a doctor running from his own pain and guilt and loneliness, who through meeting rose accepts real hope and belief in others again. rose, in season 1, comes into a lot of her own power and confidence, to the point where she’s the one who saves everything.

season 2 is only a reset in that they’ve literally reset the doctor through regeneration, but his character progression runs through. he’s literally a more energetic, hopeful, emotionally effusive person now. and rose first wobbles through accepting this drastic surface change, but after that, she’s still got that confidence and power she earned through the first season, but now her challenge is holding onto the doctor with both hands and the frightening risk of putting what he means to her in concrete words instead of implication. while there is definitely argument to be made about the originally mentioned narrative trope being employed in the tearing apart of rose and ten (oh no, can’t have the doctor in a stable romantic relationship longterm, how boring), it’s also made precedent through the history of the show refreshing itself with regeneration and new companions so not unfortunately surprising.

season three’s companion, martha, is magnificent character progression and growth. she goes from the slightly lost girl not firm on her own worth and purpose and having a crush on the doctor, to the one realizing she’s a rebound for a manic alien going through the most outlandish post-breakup grieving ever, to the actual savior of humanity and the universe, because she knows her worth, her purpose, her principles, and knows them enough to recognize that staying with the doctor conflicts with all of that. and in her later appearances in other seasons, none of that has gone away, it’s just all throughlined into everything we see her doing after.

season three’s doctor, however, is indeed a manic alien going through the most outlandish post-breakup grieving ever, and he’s also a bad friend. he’s a terrible friend to martha in numerous ways because he’s so absorbed by his own heartbreak. by the end of the season he’s had to face a lot of how he’s taken her for granted and treated her poorly, and in her walking away, he has to realize that he must do better if he wants to actually keep his friends, if he truly wants to not be alone after rose.

enter (or re-enter) donna, who has such phenomenal and gorgeous character growth lauded throughout fandom i hardly even need to detail it here. and the doctor had to re-learn how to be a genuinely good friend, how to have hope and belief and be kind and good even after getting his heart broken, after grief, after all of it. you can absolutely argue that the “undercut all lessons learned, reset to grimdark and edgy” got employed with the entire timelord victorious arc, and i couldn’t argue because that was about the point i started getting up from the table.

left it altogether early in moffat’s run when i got sick to death of how every single new conflict and character had to be bigger and more amazing and unique and ~special~ and “timey wimey.”

so yeah, that narrative problem plagues doctor who, including rtd’s run, but in my sight even worse so in moffat’s. moffat has more than enough faults he earned his own blame for, and davies having some of his own doesn’t negate that.

#call and response #raywritesthings #long post #i haven't watched dw in ages #so you can stake out any patch of land you want and defend it in the crossing of perspectives #but for me moffat is WHY i left the table #and rtd era has plenty of flaws but the character and relationship arcs mostly weren't it

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smoaking-greenarrow · 5 years

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The Body Shot

Bartender Felicity Parts 1 and 2

Read on AO3.

Warning for smut!

A weekend away from Starling was exactly what Felicity had needed. Taking the time to go visit her mother in Vegas had been a great break, especially when it came to Tommy. He was her best friend, but Tommy was driving her crazy. He was having a very hard time wrapping his head around the idea of her and Oliver being, well, anything. Not that they were necessarily a something. Unless amazing sex, natural chemistry, and a connection that made her feel like she'd known him forever, could be considered something.

Okay, so they were definitely something.

But their something didn't have labels. Not any official ones. And Tommy was breathing down her neck as if he wanted them to sign contracts stating each individual feeling they had and expected a daily log of their activities to keep track of them.

Mixing business and pleasure was more stressful for Tommy than it was for Oliver or Felicity, to say the least.

When Felicity booked her flight, she had really thought that a couple of days away from Oliver would be good for her, too. Things between them had been casual for the last few months, but they were getting dangerously close to that 'next step' stuff. And that terrified her for a whole list of reasons.

Literally, she could create a list about her fears; it'd start with 'Abandonment', blow right through 'Strings' and end in 'Trust.'

She hadn't committed to Oliver Queen. She wasn't his girlfriend. But she didn't have any desire to sleep with anyone else, and she was certain that he knew it. He knew that he had her full attention. Still, she was the one who insisted on not labeling, remaining unattached, and sticking to a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy.

In truth, that would probably be any man's dream.

Of course she found the one man who wanted the opposite. Wanted everything. Felt everything. The only man who didn't jump at the opportunity for good sex with no expectations. Oliver was free to be with other women if he chose. She'd made that clear. Yet he didn't want to...as he had made clear on more than one occasion. Instead, Oliver wanted to stay. He wanted strings and he wanted trust.

And it was very hard to fight it. To keep her walls up when he was so good at climbing them. Patient enough to wait for her to lower them on her own. And passionate enough to not give up on what he wanted. Which was apparently her.

She wanted everything, too, even if she didn't feel ready to have it with Oliver. As a result, they were getting close. Very close. And despite the time they spent together, she had yet to get sick of him.

Tommy, on the other hand, she was sick of.

So, she didn't see the harm in a break from the both of them.

But as soon as Felicity's flight landed in Starling, she texted Tommy to let him know she would work at Verdant that night. And as soon as she was back in her apartment, she got ready. Even though she was tired, she dropped her suitcase by the door and went to shower.

Deep down, she knew it was because she'd missed Oliver. It had only been two days, and she felt ridiculous. But she hadn't been expecting to miss him so much.

Oliver practically lived at the bar, so she wasn't surprised to see him there when she showed up over an hour early for her shift. He looked surprised to see her, though, glancing up from where he sat at the bar. It was the very seat he'd been in when he interviewed her. He had papers laid out over the counter, the same spot he'd laid her on.

Felicity smiled at the thought, but he didn't return it. Oliver raised his eyebrows as she approached, setting his pen down.

"Hey," Felicity cleared her throat, averting her eyes and lifting her chin as she moved behind the bar, slipping by him and opening the register.

"You're back," he answered.

She gave him a strange look, her stomach doing a few flips because something felt off. "Had to come back at some point," she joked.

"Right," Oliver pursed his lips, nodding. "Well, all you said was that you were going out of town for the weekend. You never actually told me when you'd be home, or that you were going to Vegas, so..."

Felicity watched him carefully, "I told Tommy...he said it was fine." She spoke lowly, stiffening while his eyes narrowed at her. "I'm sorry, I wasn't scheduled to work this weekend. Is there a problem with me leaving town?"

Oliver's lip twitched as he stared at her, "how was your trip?" He asked, his voice cold. "Tommy said you're quite a sight at the blackjack tables."

She cocked her head to the side, her mouth gaping as she searched for a response. She hadn't mentioned to Oliver that she was visiting her mother because that would spark questions...and quite honestly she wasn't sure if he was ready for the Donna Smoak stories. A single, heartbroken mother raising an angry, confused kid whose father disappeared in the middle of the night. Actually, no one was ever really ready for that sad part of her life. And she didn't share it easily.

But Tommy knew the story. He knew her mother. And he knew full well that she wasn't going to Vegas to gamble and party. Which, since it was Tommy Merlyn, only meant one thing. He was playing games. "That's what Tommy told you, huh? That I was partying?"

"Mm-hm," Oliver pinched his lips together, crossing his arms. "Sounds like a pretty fun weekend."

"Did your partner also mention that I grew up in Vegas?" She asked. Oliver's eyebrows furrowed instantly. A very clear 'no' was written all over his face. "That my mom still lives there?"

Tommy. She could strangle him.

Oliver blinked at her for a moment, his eyebrows raising. "You were visiting your mom?"

"Yup," she answered, looking back at him.

As they stared at each other, Oliver's standoffish facade crumbled. "I'm sorry," he sighed. "You're right. You were clear about what we're doing here. You don't owe me explanations. It's not my business what you do with your free time, Miss Smoak." She cringed at his formal tone, pulling out the Miss Smoak on her as if they were distant colleagues rather than...whatever they were. "I have no right to be rude about it, even if you were partying...it's not my business." He huffed, shaking his head.

"Tommy should have told you I was there to see my mom...not gambling through the Las Vegas Strip."

"You could have told me that, too," he replied gently.

To that, Felicity's shoulders slumped. "I know."

Eyeing her, Oliver moved closer, coming around the counter. He waited to speak, picking up the towel from the counter and helping her clean up the bar, getting it ready for the night. "Why didn't you?" He finally mumbled.

"My mom just..." Felicity sighed, "my dad left her when I was young, and we haven't always had the closest relationship. Telling you about it just seemed, I don't know, intimate, I guess. I didn't know if we were really at that level of sharing, and I knew you'd ask."

"I think we've already been incredibly intimate, Felicity."

She let out a breathy laugh, "well, yeah, physically...but not really like that."

Turning to look down at her, Oliver smiled. "You honestly haven't even noticed, have you?" He whispered, shaking his head again before he continued. "Felicity, you know a lot more about me than you think. And I know you pretty well, too. You might've thought that telling me about your family was some personal boundary we weren't ready to cross...but you've already let me get to know you. All I'm asking is that you continue to let me do that."

"Okay," she breathed. Looking into his eyes, it felt easier than she thought it'd be. "But Oliver...I, um—" her breath caught in her throat, realizing what she wanted to ask him for. "I want to be upfront. I'm not interested in anyone else. Just you...and I think, if you want, it's time we just admit that."

"So...you want to be exclusive, or you just want to be transparent about our other hookups?"

Felicity glared, just the thought of his 'other hookups' made her dormant jealous side come to life. She leveled him with a look. It was high time to stop playing games. "Exclusive," she clarified.

Oliver hummed, putting his hands on her hips and turning her to face him. He leaned in, his lips brushing through her hair. "Good," he whispered in her ear. "I haven't been with anyone but you since that moment we had in the storage room, Felicity. That's the way I'd like it to be. Just so you know."

"No more lies, no more games, no more rules, no more steps backward."

He pulled back, sighing as he pressed his forehead to hers. "I have two feet in, baby."

Nodding, Felicity grinned back, pecking a quick kiss against his lips. She knew that she could get hurt, that he could hurt her, that it could be a mistake to let Oliver into her heart. But she already had both feet in, too.

"Must have been a pretty good weekend with your mom," he mumbled, his fingers combing through her hair. "To have you come home wanting to take the next step."

"Yeah," she hummed against his lips, "she has a way of gently letting me know when I'm being an idiot. And I was being an idiot."

Oliver chuckled, kissing her. "Does this make you my girlfriend?"

"Woah," she teased, giving him a slight pout. "Don't get carried away now." He rolled his eyes, kissing her again before getting back to work.

As the sun went down and the club began to get busy, Oliver helped her behind the bar. Like other nights before, they fell into a natural groove, working around each other as easily as they seemed to do everything together.

Most of the customers were regulars who knew both of them, but even the new faces gave them a relatively relaxed night. Oliver didn't have any fights to break up, people to kick out, or messes to clean.

Just as he commented on it, using the cursed phrase 'it's a quiet night', a group of rowdy men came in through the front door. Felicity frowned, "you jinxed it." She cringed as she realized what they were in for.

There were ten of them. The men were already mindlessly and stupidly hammered, and they were celebrating the cute one in the middle of the pack.

A sloppy Bachelor party. A bar crawl, by the looks of it. And Verdant was far from their first stop.

As they crowded around the bar, Felicity counted the heads one more time, pulling out shot glasses and lining them up. "What are we having tonight, gentlemen?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

Unsurprisingly, it was the one she'd already picked out to be the groom who leaned towards her, his eyes leering at her breasts. "I'd like a taste of you," he slurred.

Felicity smiled, "not on the menu, unfortunately. How about something to drink instead."

Oliver stepped beside her, bottles in hand. "Round of Venom, our signature drink," he offered, "on the house." He earned himself some appreciative reactions from the men.

One round turned to seven, and suddenly the group of rowdy men became a group of belligerent men. And her easy night became an irritating night. Most of the men weren't too bad, but of course, there were a few who had to take things a little too far, ruining everyone's fun. The ill-mannered ones had plenty of whistles and slurred 'honey's' and 'baby's' to toss Felicity's way. But the drunker they got, the less playful it was. She knew they were already close to being cut off, either by her or Oliver. Because her not-boyfriend looked like he wanted to punch more than one of them in the face just for being drunk idiots.

While Felicity cleared the shot glasses from their latest round of Venom, the soon-to-be-married one grabbed at her arm, his fingers digging in too tight.

Stopping, Felicity blinked at him, a warning in her eyes that he was too drunk to notice. She knew how to get out of his hold, she'd done it plenty of times at the other bars she'd worked in. But Felicity knew that twisting his arm and wrenching it back would hurt him. Usually hurting the customers ended in complaints and threats to sue, even when the assholes were clearly in the wrong.

Giving the man a moment to take his hand off her on his own, before she had to deal with the annoying trouble, Felicity raised her eyebrow at him. "Let go," she warned, slowly and clearly. In his state, the groom apparently thought she was teasing, because he grinned, his grip on her wrist tightening.

A moment later, Oliver appeared at her side, his hand outstretched across the bar as if he was ready to shove the guy away, but he didn't touch him. "I believe my bartender asked you to let go. I'd listen if I were you."

She saw the defeat in his eyes, his lips pouting like a rich, scolded toddler who was mad about not getting his way. And Felicity waited patiently for him to remove his hand, relaxing with the knowledge that he wouldn't cause a scene.

Just as Felicity felt the man's fingers begin to loosen, Tommy pushed through the crowd, coming out of nowhere. And he shoved against the guy's chest, his palms flat. A nice, hard push was all it took to send the drunk man to the floor. He let go of Felicity's arm as he fell right off his chair. "Tommy!" Felicity gasped, surprised at how fast it all happened.

Glancing at her, Tommy offered her a smirk. That classic Tommy Merlyn Smirk. It screamed 'I've been waiting for an excuse to have this much fun. And I just found it.'

She'd known Tommy since college. Which meant she also knew the scene that came next. Tommy always punched first, but he was lucky if he punched the hardest.

Judging by the group of men that stood in solidarity against him, it wasn't a fight Tommy had a chance of winning. Felicity's heart sped up.

The bachelor party helped their friend to his feet. As soon as he was right again, the man pointed a finger at Tommy. "Do you want to fight, bro?" He slurred.

Tommy's lip twitched, his devilish smile ticking up a notch. "I feel sorry for your future wife, bro," he shot back. "Not only is she about to marry a total asshole, but I'm sure she's dreading the years of mediocre sex she's in for."

Instinctively, Felicity hopped onto the bar and scooted across it, putting herself between Tommy and the confused yet increasingly angry men. All they seemed capable of comprehending was that their friend got knocked to the ground, and Tommy was to blame.

Mob mentality made her fear that her friend was about to get the worst ass kicking of his life. "Easy!" Felicity yelled, holding out her hands as the embarrassed one stepped closer to Tommy.

"That jackass needs a lesson!" He shouted in her face. Tommy's hand shot out from behind her, ready to push him back, but Oliver got there first.

She hadn't seen him come around the bar, but the next thing she knew, Oliver's large form was towering in front of her. He planted his feet, facing the man, and she already felt safer. For her and for Tommy.

Felicity gave a quick glance over her shoulder, glaring at Tommy. "You're an idiot," she hissed at him. "Do you always have to go out of your way to make things more difficult? Or does it just come naturally?"

In response, Tommy smiled, completely unbothered by the pack of drunk men who were ready to pummel him. He tapped the tip of her nose with his index finger. "How's my favorite Smoak?"

She huffed, beyond irritated. "I'm fine, Tommy. We had it handled."

He frowned, "you know I meant Donna. How is she?"

Felicity rolled her eyes, tossing an elbow into his stomach. "Idiot." And then she peeked around Oliver's shoulder, watching as the sloppy groom teetered, his unfocused eyes narrowing at Oliver as if he was trying to decide whether or not to pick this fight.

Oliver crossed his arms, "I think it's time you all get the hell out of my bar."

"I think it's time you and your sissy boyfriend meet us outside."

"All right, all right," Felicity nudged Oliver, staring down the bachelor party. "Enough. Just move your party along to the next bar, boys. Or go home before you find yourselves in a jail cell over a stupid bar fight. Wouldn't want to miss your own wedding, would you?"

The man shrugged, "not ready to leave. We were going to have another drink."

Staring him down, Felicity weighed her options. It was either escalate the situation, or compromise. She'd seen enough bar brawls to know the right choice. "One drink," she spoke sternly. "Then you all go. Either that or I call the police to escort your asses out of here. Deal?"

"Sure," he shrugged again, "on one condition. I want another one of those Venom shots," the man could barely keep his eyes open. "And I want to take it off of you."

While Felicity's eyes narrowed, his buddies broke out into loud hollers of approval, a messy chorus of 'body shot!' catching half the club's attention.

In a place like that, the term took over like wildfire, until all of Verdant was shouting it, pounding their fists on the tables, egging it on. It wasn't like she was a body shot prude. Her best tips in college had come from setting a frosty glass in her cleavage.

With a sigh, Felicity climbed onto the bar top, using Tommy and Oliver's shoulders to boost herself up. Then she put her fingers in her mouth and whistled, getting everyone's attention. "Fine!" She yelled, holding her arms up. "You want a body shot, let's see a body shot!"

The crowd cheered, and she waited until they calmed down before speaking again. "But who thinks this grimy weasel here should do the honors!?" She asked, pointing to the entitled jackass. Everyone sang back their 'boos' and 'hell no's'. Felicity grinned, satisfied.

Turning her gaze on Oliver, she winked. And he pursed his lips, clearly not knowing where she was going with this and not knowing how to feel about it. Felicity swiped her hand down, gesturing to Oliver. "Who would prefer to see the handsome owner of your favorite bar, Oliver Queen help me out!?" His eyes widened as he gazed up at her, and the crowd erupted.

Felicity glanced around, seeing more than a few of the women stand up from their seats, trying to get a good view when they realized Oliver was near and potentially willing to do body shots.

Without a word, Felicity picked up the bottle of her Venom concoction that she kept stashed behind the bar, her ass in the air while she retrieved a shot glass. Then she sat on one of the bar stools, beckoning Oliver with her finger. He gave her a hesitant look, and she raised her eyebrows, mouthing 'scared?'

If he truly disagreed with her diversion and refused to take the shot, she knew Tommy would happily oblige. As long as she wasn't left hanging in front of all those people.

Thankfully, after a moment's consideration, Oliver moved towards her. She chuckled, her eyes on his while she poured the drink. Felicity broke the contact when his hands landed on her knees, and she focused on carefully setting the full glass between her breasts. It spilled from the edges a little bit, the cold green alcohol landing on her chest.

Felicity looked up at Oliver, and his eyes were on the glass.

For some reason, she expected him to find a way out of it. He was the most exciting man she'd ever been with, but he was also hesitant. Oliver was a smart, sexy, and ambitious club owner. Spontaneous body-shots seemed more like Tommy's thing. But Oliver's eyes darkened as he watched her. His gaze was focused on her breasts, savoring the sight of her, not looking for a way out. He didn't hesitate. Instead, Oliver stepped between her legs, his hands dragging up her thighs, planting them on her waist. He leaned in, quickly catching the drop on her chest with his tongue. And then Oliver wrapped his lips around the glass, taking it from her shirt and tipping his head back, downing the shot.

Looking at Oliver, she watched as he set the glass on the counter. The room cheered him on, but he didn't seem to notice or care. "That was not a body shot, Felicity," he hummed, the words just for her. He stared down his nose at her with his hands still on her hips, challenging her.

She cocked her head to the side, "what do you mean?"

Rather than offering an explanation, Oliver's hands tightened on her hips, and he lifted her easily. Felicity gasped in surprise, but her ass landed on the bar just as quickly. Her eyes widened, and Oliver's took on a mischievous glint in return. Guiding her, he nudged her shoulders down, pulling her legs up so she was lying across the bar.

"Oh, you can't be serious," she shook her head, fighting a grin.

"You brought body shots into this mess," he teased, ducking his lips to her ear. "We may as well do it right, yeah?"

"Okay," she breathed back, lifting her shoulders and setting her palms flat against the cold wood of the bar. When Oliver leaned over her, she knew exactly what he was going for, seeing his plan from a mile away. He reached across to get what he needed, and then his fingers toyed with the edge of her shirt, hesitating for a moment before he slowly dragged the fabric up to her ribs.

"Ready?" He mumbled lowly, and she nodded. She waited for the cold alcohol to hit her stomach, but instead she felt his mouth on her neck. He pressed a quick, tiny kiss against her pulse, and then he licked.

Felicity held her breath, ignoring the wild onlookers as she felt Oliver carefully drop a dash of salt to the spot on her throat he'd wet. "Open your mouth," he instructed, and Felicity obeyed immediately. He set something against her lips. A lime. And then his hand flattened against her stomach in a warning before he poured the liquid. She knew it was coming, but she still sucked in a breath as the tequila touched her skin.

Despite the volume in the club, Felicity swore she heard Oliver's husky voice, humming while the booze dripped down her sides. It was a low, satisfied, gravelly sound. And it turned her on much more than it should, given their location, and how many people were watching.

Oliver's lips pressed against her neck, taking in the salt with an open-mouthed kiss. Her eyes instinctively slid shut, unable to process anything beyond the excitement coursing through her body.

A moment later, she felt his chin drag down her chest, between her breasts. His tongue made a path across her stomach, catching the alcohol, drinking as much of it as he could. She couldn't stop her hand from twining in his hair, a gentle moan escaping her as his tongue lapped at the tequila dripping by her bellybutton.

If they were alone...phew, she'd be urging his gorgeous lips to kiss her a little more south of her stomach.

With one final kiss against her navel, Oliver pulled back. His hand tugging her shirt back into place as soon as he was finished.

And then his face hovered over Felicity's. He gave a quick, sexy wink down at her before he leaned in. Oliver's lips touched hers, sending a shiver down her spine as he went for the lime.

He took his time, pausing for a moment, letting his tongue roam over her bottom lip. It was sexy as hell, and she had to remind herself that attacking his mouth with her own wasn't a good idea.

The crowd finally registered in her mind again, the noise in Verdant exploding while Oliver smiled against her lips. She could taste the tequila on his tongue, mixing with the tangy lime. Felicity let out another moan as he stood up, pulling the fruit out of his mouth and tossing it aside.

She shook her head as he leaned back down, hooking his hands around her back to pick her up. But not before he dipped his lips to her ear again, "this is where you laid the first time I touched you," he growled.

Felicity blinked, realizing that he was right. The day they'd met and the way he'd slid his fingers inside of her right there on the bar; it was one of her fondest memories. One that they both loved to recreate. "I remember," she breathed back, letting him lift her.

Oliver plucked her from the wooden counter and set her on her feet, and she could feel her cheeks turning red as she looked back at their audience. With his reminder still fresh in her mind, it made her heart beat faster to look back at the people.

She'd done plenty of body shots before. The job tended to be a bit of a performance. She'd danced on bar tops in front of crowds bigger than Verdant's that night, but Felicity still felt a wave of embarrassment. Because Oliver's hands and mouth on her would always feel personal and private, and her reactions to him were far from a performance.

Smiling, Felicity offered an awkward little wave before she ducked behind his shoulder. Her eyes found Tommy, who was beyond amused. He looked smug as if the whole turn of events was his plan all along.

Felicity rolled her eyes at him, glancing around for the obnoxious bachelor party. "Where'd they go?" She called to Tommy, her eyebrows furrowing.

"Stormed out after you insulted them by calling the man of the hour a grimy weasel," her friend shrugged. "I think they realized no one wants them here. I doubt they'll be coming back anytime soon."

"Good riddance," Felicity sighed, pressing her head against Oliver's back.

Eventually the onlookers went back to their own drinks, conversations, and dancing. But for the rest of the night, Oliver's heavy gaze lingered on her. She met his eyes more than once, and she knew by the fiery, promising expression behind them, that he'd be doing that again later. He couldn’t wait to lay her across the bar and explore her body with his tongue, taste whatever he wanted on her skin and take his time with it, once the bar was empty.

#Arrow #Olicity #bartender au #olicity fic #olicity fanfiction

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lastbluetardis · 5 years

Text

And Babies Make Five and Six (12/16)

Summary: Sometimes the things we want the most stay just out of reach. But after an extra helping of heartache as they try for a third baby, James and Rose are blessed with double the joy. Triggers for infertility.

Author’s Notes: Oh look... I’ve added another expected chapter to the total. Ah well. Enjoy! And I’ve pretty much got the rest of this story written, so I’m hoping to have a new chapter posted each week from here on out.

Betaed by the marvelous @chocolatequeennk. This is also for @doctorroseprompts because it’s Doctor x Rose.

Ten x Rose AU

This chapter: NSFW, 7100 words

Ages of the Tyler-McCrimmons at the start of the chapter: James: 37, Rose: 32, Ainsley: 7, Sianin: 4

AO3 | TSP | FF | Perfectly Matched Series

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14 | Ch15 | Ch16

James felt Rose shifting beside him. He blinked open his eyes, feeling the grittiness of sleep lingering in them, and saw that the room was still nearly dark. When he thought she would slip closer to him and they would sleep a little longer tangled together, her weight left the bed and she strode into their ensuite.

He drifted back to sleep, assuming her warm body would be pressed up next to his soon enough, but it never did.

When he awoke next, it was to the pipes clanking as the shower turned off. The weak morning light glowing from the window told him he’d slept for another hour or two since Rose first awoke.

James sat up in bed and saw Rose’s running clothes pooled on the floor by the hamper. Scrubbing his fingertips into his eyes, he reached for his phone to check the time.

Half a dozen text messages were waiting for him, all of them from Donna. A sinking sensation settled in his stomach, and his unease was confirmed when he opened the messaging app and was immediately greeted by a pink-faced newborn in a white and blue striped blanket.

His ears seemed to ring as he looked into the fat, squished face of the baby boy. Joshua Lee, according to the words under the photo. Baby Joshua was tucked in Donna’s arms, fast asleep. She looked positively exhausted, but was wearing a smile he’d never seen on her face before. Lee was perched on the bed beside her, his eyes red from the tears James was all too familiar with.

His chest ached at the memory of the wonder and awe he’d felt the first time he’d seen Ainsley and Sianin. The first time he’d held them. He’d thought he’d never seen a more beautiful child, and he’d been overwhelmed with the love he felt for his new baby. Their bodies were so fragile in his arms, and he’d known he would do anything to keep them safe.

Jealousy sank its claws into his chest, sharp and cold, as a flash of hatred shot through James.

It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fair!

He so badly wanted what Donna and Lee had. He wanted a new baby with Rose. He wanted to see her belly grow round as their baby grew. He wanted to rest his hands on her baby bump and feel the signs of the life they’d made beneath his palms as their baby kicked and squirmed. He wanted to cry tears of joy as he held his child for the first time. Kissed their soft, sweet skin. Smelled that fresh baby scent.

He wanted.

“James?”

He realized he was staring at his blank phone screen, lost to the numbness and agony spreading through his body. His eyes burned as he lifted his gaze to Rose.

“Oh, James.”

A moment later, Rose sat beside him on the bed and wrapped her arms around him, hauling him close to her. He tucked his face into her shoulder, breathing her in, but his throat closed up the longer she held him until he let out a ragged sob.

“Breathe, love,” she murmured, stroking her fingers through his hair. “Breathe. It’s all right.”

“I’m sorry,” he rasped.

“No, James. You have nothing to be sorry for.” She hugged him tighter and pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “I felt the same way when I woke up and saw the texts.”

“I feel stupid,” he whispered. “I knew she was due soon. I knew I’d get this text, and yet…”

“It caught you off guard,” Rose murmured, her voice gentle and understanding.

“I feel like an arse, too,” he admitted. “I should be happy for Donna and Lee. And I should feel so happy and blessed because we’ve already got two wonderful, perfect, beautiful kids. And yet…”

He trailed off helplessly, but Rose nodded. She carded her fingers through his hair for a few silent seconds before she said, “Can I admit something to you? I’ve felt like a shitty mum for wanting more than two kids. I would feel guilty for being so upset that I wasn’t pregnant. It felt like I was saying Ainsley and Sianin weren’t enough. And I hated myself for that. I still hate myself sometimes for it. I love them both so much, and of course they’re enough. So I would keep telling myself I was perfectly content with my life as it was. But then I’d get my period and I’d be upset I wasn’t pregnant, and the cycle began again. Over and over.”

James gave her a soft, reassuring squeeze.

“You’re not a shitty mum,” James said. “Unless I’m a shitty dad for thinking the same thing. I talked to my dad about it some last year. About how conflicted I felt. He said he’d felt the same thing when he and Mum realized I was going to be their only child. He told me that feeling the urge to have more children doesn’t mean erasing the joy that our current children bring us.”

Rose sighed into his hair. “It’s hard sometimes. I want to be happy with just having two children. I really, really want to be okay with that. And some days it feels like I’ve made my peace with it. Then there are days when it seems like I will always have this bitterness.”

“I feel the same. And I think that’s okay. It’s okay for us to be upset and disappointed, because this is a huge thing that affects the rest of our lives,” he said quietly, finally pulling back to look at her. Her eyes were dry, but a little red, as if they’d welled with tears but she’d forced them back. “We’re grieving. Perhaps not in the most traditional sense, but nevertheless, I think we need to let ourselves feel whatever we’re feeling so that we can process it and begin to move forward again.”

Rose cracked a small smile.

“I think you missed your calling as a therapist,” she teased.

“Nah,” he said. “I couldn’t deal with this on a daily basis. I talk too much and sometimes don’t listen well enough.”

“You do with me,” she said.

“Because I am emotionally invested in your well-being,” he said. “I want to listen to you and make you feel better, and hold you when I can’t.”

“Yeah, hugging your clients would probably be against the rules,” Rose agreed, burying her face into his neck.

“And they’re probably not too keen on shagging the clients, either,” he mused. “There’s got to be some sort of conflict of interest.”

She laughed against his skin, and he smiled in response.

They held each other for a few more minutes, not saying anything, just enjoying their intimate embrace. As James idly stroked his fingers up and down her spine, he realized she’d donned one of his shirts.

“I can buy you shirts in my size, y’know,” he drawled, bringing up their old argument.

“I like wearing your shirts because they smell like you, and you know it,” she shot back, giving him a playful shove at his shoulder.

“I still dunno how. It’s fresh from the laundry. Our clothes should smell the same.”

“Well, they don’t. If you could squeeze into one of my shirts, you’d realize.”

“Is that a challenge?” James asked, pulling back to look at her. “Or an insult about my weight?”

“Oh, shut up,” Rose giggled, smacking him on the shoulder. “You’re the skinniest bloke I’ve ever met. You’ve just got a bigger chest than me.”

James let his eyes wander down to her breasts. He cocked his head to the side and stared blatantly as he said, “I’m not sure that’s a compliment, love.”

Rose laughed again, and the sound was music to his ears after the conversation they’d had.

“You know what I mean,” she said, and she brought her hands up to rest at his pecs. Goosebumps broke out across his skin as she rubbed her palms across them. “You’ve got a broad chest for such a thin man. The first time I saw you without your shirt, it took me by surprise.”

“A good surprise though, right?” he asked, though he knew the answer. In addition to her odd attraction with his forearms, he knew Rose loved his chest.

She rolled her eyes in reply and dropped her hands. It took everything he had not to whimper pathetically. He was appeased when she leaned forward and pressed a feather-soft kiss to his lips, a kiss of comfort and love.

“I think you are the sexiest, most beautiful man in the world,” she whispered, nudging her nose against his. “And I’m the luckiest woman in the world to have you as mine.”

His heart stuttered through a few beats and a giggle rose up his throat. He felt as though his body could burst apart with how loved and happy he was.

“I love that sound,” she said, smiling tenderly. She pressed a parting kiss to his lips and stood up off the bed.

He watched her walk away, enjoying the subtle spring to her step. When she moved to close their bedroom door behind her, she flashed him a wide grin and said, “I’ll put the coffee on for you,” before the door snicked shut and her soft footfalls disappeared down the hall.

She looked so happy, despite the start their morning got off to, and he found that her mood was infectious. Letting out a little hum of utter contentment, James tossed back the sheets and stood up to start the day with him beautiful family.

oOoOo

They spent the rest of the summer working through all of their home decorating projects and spending time together, both with and without their kids. By the time summer drew to a close, every room in the house had been repainted, and they’d replaced a majority of the furniture in the house. They’d donated their old couch, recliners, and their bed frame to a second-hand shop and admired the new pieces that were free of the stains that came with raising kids.

Furniture shopping had been a fun day out, as they flopped and bounced on couches, recliners, and mattresses to test their comfort. They’d upscaled their bed from queen-sized to king-sized, and they got a larger couch as well, a sectional that could comfortably seat six people. They got a new area rug to better complement the charcoal gray sofa and olive-green walls, and they replaced the coffee table, too.

They were pleased that all of the furniture lasted an entire month stain-free, and they couldn’t help but laugh that James was the one who created the first mess.

“Ah, shit,” he hissed as his coffee mug accidentally tilted in his lap from where he’d precariously perched it to turn a page in his book.

“Daddy said a bad word!” Sianin sang as Rose sprang up from the seat to grab towels.

“I know I did,” he growled, grabbing tissues to soak up the coffee on the cushions. He unthinkingly set the mug on the new coffee table and swore again when he saw dribbles of coffee slide down the mug and onto the polished oak surface.

“This is not your morning,” Rose said with a stifled smile as she reappeared with dish towels to help sop up the spill. When she saw the front of his jeans was soaked, her brows pinched. “Are you all right? Did you burn yourself?”

James glanced down at himself and smirked.

“Worried I’ve damaged your favorite part of me?” he crooned. When she rolled her eyes and chucked a towel at him, he said, “Well, rest assured, nothing’s injured but my pride.” As Rose knelt beside him to spray fabric cleaner across the sofa, James hovered his lips by her ear and whispered, “But maybe we should do a thorough examination of my equipment later tonight. Just to be sure. Can’t be too careful.”

Rose snorted and jabbed her elbow in his ribs.

“Why is Daddy’s lap your favorite part, Mummy?” Sianin asked curiously.

“Daddy was just being silly,” Rose answered. She stared pointedly at James. “Wasn’t he?”

“’Course I was. I love being silly because I love making Mummy laugh.”

“Go on and get changed,” Rose said when they’d cleaned the mess as best they could. “I’ll pour your coffee into a sippy cup then we can go shopping.”

“I think a thermos will do,” James said dryly.

“If you think you can handle that,” Rose teased. “Girls, get your shoes on. We’re going school shopping!”

Ainsley let out a gleeful whoop then grabbed Sianin’s hand to run for the shoe rack by the front door.

A half hour later, the family was wandering through a mall with an ever-filling cart of school supplies, this time filled with things Sianin would need for her Reception year. They could barely believe their baby was about to start school, but they were glad to see her excited about this newest adventure.

The weekend before school was due to start found the family travelling to London for the wedding between Mickey and Martha. Rose was looking forward to celebrating the love between her friends, but she also was pleased to have a date for the reception. At Donna’s wedding the previous summer, James had been out of the country and she’d gone to the wedding with just her kids.

She spent most of the reception dancing with James, swaying in his arms across the dance floor. And when she wasn’t in his arms, their daughters took turns dancing with him. She took a multitude of photos of the sight of her family dancing together.

James had taken her camera from her later on in the afternoon.

“You’re always photographing me with the girls,” he said when she tried to protest. “I want to return the favor. I promise I won’t break your baby.”

Rose rolled her eyes, but proceeded to give him a quick tutorial of the camera.

“Yeah, yeah. Point, focus, shoot. I got it,” he said, shooing her to the dance floor where Ainsley and Sianin were dancing together, their movements far too upbeat for the slow love ballad. “Go on, love. Dance.”

Rose proceeded to dance with their daughters, both together and individually, as well as with Mickey and Robert. James documented it all, his photos not nearly as lovely as those Rose could capture, but they were decent enough.

As the reception wound down, Robert took the camera from James and pushed him to the dance floor with Rose.

“Dad’s on babysitting duty,” James said, angling his head to where his dad was sitting with the camera. “I want to dance with my beautiful wife one last time before the party ends.”

Rose beamed at him, and he ducked down to catch her lips in a kiss. One of her hands clenched the fabric of his suit jacket while her other went into his hair to hold his head where it was. He smirked against her mouth and adjusted the angle of his head to deepen the kiss.

When they returned home on Sunday, they took the afternoon to everything ready for the girls’ first day of school. They made sure their backpacks were stocked with all of their new supplies and that their uniforms were washed, pressed, and laid out for them.

“Are you excited for tomorrow?” Rose asked as she tucked Sianin into bed that night.

“Yeah! I’m gonna learn lots and be smart as Ainsley!” Sianin’s eyes were bright and her wide grin showed off the new gap from where she’d lost her first tooth the week before.

“Yes you are,” James said. “You’re gonna learn so much and make loads of new friends.”

He leaned down a pressed a kiss to his youngest’s forehead and retired to his bedroom as Rose read Sianin her bedtime stories. He got himself ready for bed and slipped beneath the sheets, content to play a game on his phone as he waited for Rose.

She joined him twenty minutes later. He finished up his game as she went through her nightly routine, and set it to the side when Rose slipped under the sheets beside him.

“Big day tomorrow,” she murmured, nestling herself into his open arm.

“Yeah. Can’t believe she’s this big already,” James said, tracing idle patterns up and down her arm. “How are you feeling?”

“Great. Considering. I mean… this is a huge stepping stone for Sianin, but she’s so excited for it. And I’m excited for us to start this adventure with her.”

“Me too,” James agreed. He’d felt sad when Ainsley had started school, and he was pleased that no trace of it was present in his chest now. He felt nothing but eagerness for this newest chapter in his life, in his family’s life.

They slipped into silence, with James continuing to walk his fingers up and down her arm, then across her hip.

“D’you want to fool around for a bit?” Rose asked when his fingers dipped beneath the waistband of her sleep shorts.

He froze, not realizing where his hand had gone. He’d been touching his wife because he’d enjoyed doing so, not because he’d meant to start anything.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, pulling his arm from around her waist. “Not really. But if you want to…”

“Nope, I’m fine,” she answered. “But can we keep cuddling like we were? It felt nice.”

He smiled and wrapped his arm around her and leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead, then her lips. They kissed for many long minutes, kisses of love and togetherness that made James feel warm all over.

They gradually pulled out of their snog and lay on their sides, tangled together as they talked. They talked for hours about everything it seemed. They debated politics, played twenty questions, discussed books they’d read and wanted to read. On and on, until they realized it was almost midnight and their stomachs were sore from how often they’d been lost in stifled laughter.

“It’s been a while since we did this,” James whispered after he’d leaned over and flicked off the lamp, shrouding them in darkness. “It was nice.”

“Yeah it was,” Rose said, her voice sounding suddenly sleepy. “We should do this more often. I love talking with you.”

“Well that’s reassuring,” he drawled, and she snorted at him.

“I just meant that it’s so nice we can still talk to each other forever, despite having known each other for decades.”

“You’re making us sound so old,” he groaned.

“Pfft.” James didn’t need to see his wife to know she was rolling her eyes. “We’re in our prime, love.”

“I’m almost forty,” he said with a dramatic, long-suffering sigh.

“Yeah, but you are the sexiest, smartest, funniest, loving-est…” James laughed at her word choice and heard her echo it. “...almost-forty-year-old in the universe. And I love you.”

“Well, I guess that’s fine, then.” He squeaked when Rose smacked at his chest. He fumbled for her hand and managed to catch it to press a kiss to each of her knuckles. “I love you, too, Rose.”

She gave his fingers a squeeze, then took her hand back as she rolled onto her side.

“Can I spoon you for a little bit?” he asked.

“As long as you don’t wake me up when you change positions,” she said.

“You’ve never complained before when I’ve changed positions,” he crooned into her ear, slotting his body behind hers.

She laughed at him again, and let out a long breath as she relaxed back into him.

They awoke to two small bodies jumping on them the next morning. James wheezed out a breath when Sianin’s knee landed on his stomach, and he quickly shuffled her off of him before she could accidentally kick a more sensitive part of him.

“You two are up early,” Rose mumbled from beside him, sitting up.

“First day of school!” Sianin crowed. “You said we’d get a big breakfast!”

“It’s barely six,” James argued.

“And we leave the house at seven-thirty,” Ainsley said. “We don’t wanna be late!”

“We won’t be,” Rose said soothingly, but she slipped out of bed anyway and gestured for the girls to follow.

James groaned and stretched, then followed his family into the kitchen to help whip up the traditional first day of school breakfast. As everything cooked, he and Rose took turns sneaking off for a shower. And as Rose predicted, once breakfast was finished, there was still a half hour to go before they had to leave for school.

When the girls were finally dressed, James watched as Rose took the usual first day of school photos. She took individual ones of the girls, then a photo of them together, before she put her camera away and they decided to drive to the school, even though they’d be too early.

They all walked Sianin to her classroom, and James couldn’t help but laugh when she barely gave them a hug and kiss goodbye before she ran for the coat cubby that had her name printed on it.

“Sian, remember Ainsley will come collect you at the end of the day,” James called out.

“Yep! Bye bye!”

James shook his head at his youngest. Then, after he and Rose introduced themselves and Ainsley to Sianin’s teacher, they walked with Ainsley to her classroom.

The family soon settled into their respective school-time routines. With an entire day at her disposal, Rose found little things to occupy her time. She kept up with the household chores and finished up a few of the home renovations that hadn’t been entirely completed by the time the new term began.

She also used her newfound free time to catch up with friends she hadn’t seen in far too long.

“Penny! Hi!” Rose skipped up to her old friend and wrapped her in a hug. “Sorry I’m a bit late. I didn’t quite time the laundry right.”

“No worries,” Penny said, sitting back down in her chair. “So you had the day off?”

Rose shook her head. “Oh, no. I can’t believe I didn’t tell you—I quit my job.” Penny’s eyebrows rose, and Rose nodded. “Yeah, I was being driven mad by my supervisory role. I couldn’t do nearly the amount of commissions as they’d said I would, and that’s the part of the job I loved the most. I grew to hate going to work and with how stressed James and I were… Well, I decided I’d had enough of being so unhappy.”

Penny gave her a gentle smile and reached across the table to squeeze Rose’s fingers. “You seem so much happier than when I saw you last. By the way, can we not go six months without doing lunch next time? Damn, Rose, with you not working anymore, we could’ve scheduled something ages back!”

Rose’s cheeks warmed and she said, “I know, I know. Sorry ‘bout that. James and I have been so busy lately. We’ve basically redone all of the rooms in the house. New coat of paint, new furniture. We’re thinking of remodeling our kitchen next.” Rose dug her phone out of her purse and scrolled through her photos to show off her home.

“Oh, wow,” Penny breathed. “Wanna come redo my house next?” She then smiled softly at a photo, and Rose leaned forward to see what had caught her friend’s attention. It was a selfie of her and James in their war-zone of a living room. They were each covered in specks of paint, their hair having gotten the most damage after their paint-smeared hands had wandered during a snog. “You two look amazing, Rose. Are things… better?”

Penny had been the only non-family person Rose had confided in about how much she’d been struggling, and how hard she and James were working to build themselves back up again.

“Yeah, loads better,” Rose said. “I feel great, and James does too. We’re both back in a really good place.”

“I’m so happy for you,” Penny said, handing Rose her phone.

“Thanks. But enough about me. How’s your work? How’s Devon and the kids?”

Penny had changed jobs over a year ago, shortly before word had come that the company they’d worked at would be restructuring. She was working at a much smaller company that primarily dealt in photography, the art form Penny preferred the most. As she listened to her friend light up as she talked about the projects she was in the middle of, a pit of longing formed in Rose’s stomach and remained even after the two parted with the promise to meet up again soon.

When she got home, Rose fired up her laptop and opened up a basic photo editing software and got to work on touching up the first day of school photographs. She lost herself to her work until her phone alarm reminder her to go collect the kids from school. Saving her work, she tried to think of where she could go to get the pictures printed off. It was irksome to no longer have high-tech printers at her disposal.

I can talk to James about maybe buying one, she mused.

But as she considered getting a new printer, she began to wish she had better art programs on her computer and tablet. She had basic packages, but nothing like the wealth of technology and programs she’d had access to while at her job. As she drove to pick up the kids, Rose couldn’t help but make a mental list of all of the artistic equipment she wished she could have. However, it didn’t seem worth it to invest so much money in something that would be just for her own amusement.

Unless…

Over the next several days, James noticed that Rose seemed preoccupied with something. Not in a bad way, but he could tell there was something on her mind. After checking in with her and getting the reassurance that it wasn’t anything worrisome, he let her have her space to think.

His patience was rewarded one night when she came to him with a nervous but determined look in her eyes.

“I’ve been thinking…”

James glanced up from his e-reader to see Rose fingering the pendant of her necklace. He set the tablet to the side and pivoted his body to face her. They sat in silence for a few seconds as James waited for her to organize her thoughts and share what was on her mind.

“I’m a pretty good artist,” Rose said at last.

Though confused, James nodded and said, “The best I’ve ever seen. Picasso and Van Gogh and whoever else have got nothing on you, love.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled and finally released her necklace, only to take her thumb and spin her engagement ring around her finger.

“I was thinking that I miss making art for other people,” Rose said. “I’ve been drawing and painting and photographing over the last few months, but they’ve all been for me, or for our family. But… art should be shared.”

Several ideas floated through James’s head. Ideas about Rose submitting some of her art to galleries, or finding a new job at a studio, or making her own website to sell her pieces. But he wasn’t sure if what he thought she could do matched with what she wanted to do, so he nodded and let her continue to speak.

“I don’t think I want to get another job like the one I had,” she said, and James checked that idea off his mental list. “But… what do you think about me someday opening up my own studio?”

Rose shrugged as she finished speaking, and she dropped her gaze to the couch cushion between them. James caught her hand as it began its journey to her mouth, and he gave it a squeeze as he said, “I think that’s a brilliant idea.”

“Yeah? It’s not stupid or fanciful?”

“Of course not,” James said, frowning slightly. He squeezed her fingers again then said, “I’m here for you, no matter what. I’ll support you in whatever way I can. We could remodel the basement into a studio for you, or if you’d prefer, we could rent a flat or office space for you. Whatever you want, Rose, it’s yours.”

She finally smiled at him then scooted across the cushions towards him. “Thank you, James. Your support means a lot to me. I dunno when or how I want to do this, but within the next couple of years, I think I’d like to get something up and running.”

“Just let me know,” he whispered, opening his arm for her to cuddle into his side. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Whatever you decide to do, it’s gonna be fantastic.”

oOoOo

James’s groin felt tight as he slowly drifted out of his dream. He couldn’t remember what he’d been dreaming of, only that it had been nice.

Sighing, he flexed his hips a little to try to alleviate the building ache at the front of his pants. He was about to roll over and press himself against Rose to ask if she might like to make love before his alarm went off when he realized something was already rubbing at his morning erection.

He cracked open his eyes and saw Rose lying near his hip, her head propped up by her elbow as she lazily rubbed him through his pants. She looked up at him and smiled the smile that sent butterflies fluttering in his belly.

“Happy birthday,” she said, leaning over to press a kiss to the swell of his ribs. “D’you want to do something with this?” She gave his erection a soft squeeze, sending a thrill of pleasure through him.

“I was hoping we could,” he murmured, pressing his hips up into her hand.

They moved together to get his pants off, and Rose took her top off too. Her breasts swung with her movements as she returned to her position near his hip. His breath caught in his throat when he realized what she was doing.

Her mouth was hot and wet as she pressed lingering open-mouthed kisses to his erection, an endless circuit up and down his length. He leaned back into his pillow and let her explore him, torn between letting her take her time and wanting her to hurry up before the kids woke up and potentially interrupted them.

After a couple minutes of teasing him to full hardness, she took him completely into her mouth. He bit his lip against a moan as pleasure sparked down his spine, settling deep in his gut as the pressure built.

“God, I love this,” he groaned.

She grinned around his cock and picked up the pace. He reached down to thread his fingers through her hair, not to guide her movements, but simply to touch her. Her hair was silky between his fingers, and he was mindful of the tangles and knots from sleep.

Minutes passed and James nearly let himself get consumed in her ministrations. Her hand had joined her mouth, providing him with unbelievable friction. But he heard the rustle of fabric and a soft, wet noise that wasn’t her mouth, and when he glanced down at her, he saw her other hand was down her knickers, pleasuring herself.

The sight was almost enough to make him come, but he pushed down the swelling sensation and he tugged on her hair gently.

“Wait,” he gasped. “Rose, stop for a sec.”

She pulled off of him and frowned. “Everything okay?”

He nodded and said, “How close are you?”

She slowly pulled her hand out of her knickers. “Pretty close.”

“Excellent.” He tapped a fingertip against the base of his cock and said, “The birthday boy would like to be inside his wife, if she’s agreeable.”

Rose chuckled and rolled her eyes, but she pushed her knickers down her legs and knelt beside him after retrieving a small foil packet from their bedside.

“The birthday boy’s wife is very agreeable,” she replied, slowly rolling the condom down his length. “D’you want to top? It’s your day, after all.”

But James shook his head, wanting to see her on top of him. He braced his hands at her hips to steady her as she straddled his hips and took him inside of her.

“I love being inside you,” he sighed as he filled her.

“Here I thought you loved getting a blow job,” Rose said with a cheeky grin.

“Well, I love that too,” he said, gripping her hips as she began to rock on him. “I just love making love with you however I can. I love you.”

“I love you, too, James,” she said, before her head tilted back and she groaned. “God, you feel good.”

He nodded, thrusting his hips up into her to try to get her to make that breathy squeak he loved so much. It took a couple tries, but she finally let out the noise and he grinned triumphantly.

“You’re too pleased,” she huffed breathlessly.

“Bet I can make you come first,” he replied, arching his hips to drive himself harder into her.

“I’ll take that—oh, fuck—that bet.”

Before he could reach down to rub her clit and send her over the edge she was already close to, Rose caught his hands in hers and pinned them near his head.

“Oi!” he whined.

She breathed out a laugh as she leaned closer to him until she was almost lying flat on top of him. She squeezed her muscles around him, giving him a surge of friction and pleasure as she mercilessly rocked her hips into his.

“You’re cheating,” he gasped as the coil of pleasure tightened inside of him.

“No, I’m using my extensive knowledge and experience to win this bet,” she replied, setting an unforgiving pace above him.

“Cheating,” he muttered, but he soon didn’t care as long as her hips kept moving. “I’m close, Rose. You’re gonna come too, right?”

“Mhm,” she answered, biting her lip. “Right behind you.” She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips. It was sloppy and uncoordinated but so tender that James’s heart skipped a beat with the love he felt in the moment. She then placed her lips next to his ear and whispered, “Come for me, James.”

The words were his undoing, along with the puff of hot air across the shell of his ear. Trembling with goosebumps, James strained against her grip as he felt the coil of pleasure release. Rose let him go, and he hugged her hips tightly to his.

“Your turn,” he gritted out, trying to coordinate his hips to keep thrusting into her as he spent himself.

“Right there,” she grunted.

James’s eyes rolled back as his pleasure peaked, leaving him pulsing and throbbing inside of Rose as his heartbeat roared in his ears. He heard her whimper his name before the word died on a series of wordless moans and sighs.

His head finally cleared of the fog enough for him to watch Rose continue to ride her high, working herself against him in slow, lazy movements. God, he loved her. He loved her more than he could possibly tell her. His whole heart clenched with the feeling, and he sat up so he could wrap her in a hug.

His movements caused her to let out another hum of pleasure, and so he flexed his hips for her, delighted that this orgasm seemed to be going on for longer than usual.

“Oh, God,” she groaned, resting her forehead on the top of his head. “Jesus.”

“Just James,” he mumbled, burying his face into her neck. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

They remained in their intimate embrace until James felt himself slip out of her. Grimacing, he tugged the condom off and dropped it into the rubbish bin they kept beside the bed. Before he could coax Rose off his lap, she threaded her fingers through his hair to tilt his head back so she could press her lips to his.

Their kisses were unhurried and full of tenderness. James wished they could stay in bed for another hour or so because his arousal was slowly reigniting the longer he kissed his wife. He knew she could feel the evidence of it, because she smirked against his mouth and ground her hips down on his, encouraging his erection to grow.

“We shouldn’t,” he sighed, even as he wished she would keep moving on him like that.

“Sure we should,” she argued. “I mean… if you want to go another round.”

“Oh, believe me, I do,” he said firmly. His entire body was singing with renewed desire, as though he hadn’t just found his release mere minutes ago. “But the kid’s’ll be up soon.”

“They’re probably already up,” she replied.

“All the more reason we shouldn’t.”

“I can keep quiet if you can,” she whispered. But she pulled back from the kiss to look down at him. “If you want?”

He did want. He stayed silent for a few seconds, listening for the kids. The faint clattering of silverware on bowls echoed from the kitchen, and James hoped they were eating something somewhat healthy for breakfast.

Rose misinterpreted his silence and pressed a kiss to his forehead and began to shift off of his lap.

“No, no. Stay,” he murmured. “I want.”

James pulled her head back to his, catching her lips in another kiss before he coaxed her onto her back and grabbed a fresh condom before covering her body with his. There wasn’t a single place their bodies weren’t touching, and James let out a deep groan of satisfaction when Rose wrapped her arms and legs around him.

“My God, I feel like I could stay like this forever,” Rose moaned into his ear after he slipped inside of her. “You feel so, so good, James.”

“I know the feeling,” he hummed, nuzzling his nose into her neck to breathe her in.

“The kids should be fine for a few hours, right?” she asked, rolling her hips up into his.

“Definitely. They’re very self-sufficient children.”

“Then I vote we stay here all day.”

“I’m not sure they’re self-sufficient enough to drive themselves to school though,” James mused.

“That’s the next thing I’m teaching them.” She hissed and dug her nails into his lower back. “Oh, God, do that again.”

James grinned and arched his hips, rubbing his pelvis against hers as he did so. Gradually, their conversation dwindled and sighing pants and moans took their place. They smothered their sounds of pleasure into each other’s skin as they made love slowly. After sending Rose over the edge, James’s teeth sank into her shoulder as he grunted through his release.

As the final aftershocks rippled through him in time with Rose’s fingers stroking his spine, her phone blared at them.

“What happened to my alarm?” James mumbled into her breast as Rose grabbed her phone.

“I wanted a few extra minutes with you,” she answered. “I figured you’d appreciate that.”

“How many is ‘a few’?”

A guilty smile crossed her face. “Er… thirty?”

James laughed into her skin. “You impossible woman. You’re gonna make me late.”

“If you get in the shower within the next two minutes, you’ll be right on time,” Rose said. But she’d resumed trailing her fingertips up and down his spine, sending pleasant tingles across his skin and giving him no incentive to move. “I’ll have your breakfast and coffee ready for you, and you can be out the door by seven-forty.”

His entire chest warmed, and he pulled back to look at her. “You take such good care of me.”

A slow, broad smile lit up her face. “Well, of course. I love you.”

“I love you, too. So much.” He leaned down a pressed a series of kisses to her cheeks and lips as he said, “You and our daughters are my life’s greatest gift, and I’m so thankful have such a wonderful family.”

Just then, a barrage of rapid knocks sounded on their bedroom door.

“Are you done having private alone time?”

“Sianin!”

“What? I wanna show Daddy my card! Mummy needs to share Daddy.”

James bit back a laugh. He looked down at Rose, whose eyes were twinkling with amusement, and murmured, “I take back what I said. They’re absolute menaces.”

Rose giggled and smacked at his shoulder. He stuck his tongue out at her, then rolled off her.

“I’ll be out in ten minutes,” he called out. “I’m about to get a shower. I can’t wait to see your card, Sian.”

The doorknob jiggled. “Can’t we come in?”

“No, darling,” he said. “We’ll be out in a few minutes. Go finish getting ready for school.”

The pitter patter of two sets of small feet retreated down the hall, and James breathed a silent sigh.

“Her innocence is such a gift and I dread the day she realizes what her mum and dad do behind closed doors,” he said. “I was traumatized when I realized what my parents were doing during “private alone time”.”

Rose snorted and rolled her eyes. “Imagine learning your mum did that with a random bloke she met at a pub or a supermarket or the laundry. But nevertheless. I don’t want us to make a big deal of it to the kids. Yeah? What we’re doing is perfectly natural and I don’t want either Ainsley or Sianin to think it’s something dirty or secret or something to be ashamed of.”

“Agreed,” James said. “It’s just a little awkward, is all. I can see Sianin blurting out at school someday that her mum and dad have private alone time all the time.”

Rose let out a cackle and said, “Oh, she probably will. Bless her nonexistent filter. But you need to get up. You’re three minutes behind the very strict schedule I set for you.”

“Well, since I’m already running late…” He leaned over and brushed a kiss to the freckles on her shoulder. “You could just join me in the shower and make me properly late. Eh?”

She smacked her palm against the back of his head, and he pulled back with a pout. But she was grinning as she said, “You’re insatiable!”

“For you, my love?” He leaned down to press a final kiss to her shoulder. “Always.”

<-- Ch 11 | Ch 13 -->

#ficandchips #doctorroseprompts #dwfic #doctor who #ten x rose #ten x rose au #james x rose #soulmates #soulmates au #lemons #kid fic #my fic #perfectly matched series #and babies make five and six #themes of infertility #(not too much in this chapter though)

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raywritesthings · 6 years

Note

Could you maybe write something about what happens when the doctor and donna come back to the tardis from the library?

Hoooookay, anon. I wrote...something. Idk if it’s at all what you were picturing, but here we go!

Sleep Mode

AO3 link

He knew it still was not alright, possibly wouldn’t be for a very long time, because of how quiet she was.

Not that Donna was loud all the time, of course. But even when her voice turned soft there was always an underlying strength, a presence. This Donna, he could tell her mind was far away, reaching back for the Library datacore and Lee. Something twisted painfully in his gut, and he had no scientific explanation for it at all.

“I think I might turn in,” she said, just above a whisper, and he looked away from the door he’d just snapped closed. “Bit muddled on how long I’ve been awake.”

“Of course,” the Doctor immediately replied. “We’ll start fresh in the morning.”

She offered just the slightest attempt at a smile before turning away and heading down the corridor to her room. The Doctor watched her go, then went to the controls to place them in the Vortex. Time and space could wait as long as Donna needed it to.

—-

She came and found him after a much shorter interval than was usual whenever she decided to sleep. He didn’t comment, and merely took them somewhere new.

It worked a little. She had all sorts of questions like always, and he thought she even forgot once or twice what had happened only yesterday. And yet she was still too quiet. Withdrawn.

By the second day she was yawning between bouts of running, and he knew it wasn’t because she was bored. Donna could gripe about the weather or the running better than anyone, but she never found their travels boring.

She was tired, and the longer it lasted the more he feared it would grow to mean she was tired of this. That he’d failed to shield her from the worst and she’d soon leave him like everyone eventually did.

Donna retreated to her room whenever they got back to the TARDIS. He thought to ask if she felt up to a movie or a game of some kind, something to draw her out, but his courage always failed him and he watched her walk away instead.

This particular night, after a few fruitless attempts at TARDIS maintenance that he was too distracted worrying to complete, the Doctor decided it was past time for him to sleep himself. Not that he was entirely eager to, and so he took a more roundabout route to his room.

He hadn’t realized his wandering had taken him past her room until he heard a door open behind him. “Spaceman?”

The Doctor spun about on his heels. “Oh, sorry, did I wake you?” It couldn’t possibly be time for her to wake up yet.

Donna grimaced. “I haven’t exactly been sleeping. I try, but it’s just...I don’t know. I’m not used to, um—”

“You can’t get to sleep on your own,” he finished for her.

“Yeah,” she admitted, eyes on her toes.

Neither of them spoke for an awful stretch of time.

“Do you think you could—no, it’s daft, forget I asked.”

He reached for her hand before she could retreat behind the door.

“Donna, whatever you need, I’m here.”

She visibly struggled for a moment before finally opening the door a little wider.

He’d had glimpses of Donna’s room on occasion, poked his head in now and then. But never had this sort of invitation been extended to him.

On any other occasion a thrill of excitement or joy might have accompanied this moment. The nerves at least carried over.

He shut the door behind him with as much care as he could, but the soft click was enough to cause her to drop his hand, casting an almost skittish look in his direction. The Doctor, who was desperately trying to keep control of his own composure, crossed to the loveseat sitting against the far wall.

But Donna could truly be contrary at times. “Oh, don’t sit over there. I’ll have to turn my neck all funny just to look at you.”

He changed course and perched on the side of her bed. “I thought the point was for you to sleep.”

“Who can sleep with you looming?” She began turning back the blankets. “And I don’t like people sitting on the covers.”

The Doctor had the thought that perhaps this was not the best idea, at least not for him, but it was what Donna wanted and thus he was powerless to do little else.

He toed off his shoes and debated a moment or two before shrugging out of his jacket. Then he climbed into the bed beside her. The TARDIS dimmed the lights on her own.

A good several inches separated them, and it was more likely his imagination was convincing him he could feel some kind of heat radiating off her. The Doctor fixed his gaze on the ceiling and focused on keeping his breath slow and even. A quick glance at Donna showed she was doing the same.

Just as he was about to ask whether this was helping or merely making it all worse, she spoke.

“If I go to sleep, I’m afraid I’ll see them and think it’s real, and then when I wake up I’ll have to lose them all over again.”

“See who?”

“Josh and Ella. My—the children that the Library made up. It’s them I really miss,” she said. “That’s not really kind to Lee, is it? I mean I do miss him, even if he wasn’t real, but I also...I don’t know what I’d do if I had found him.”

“You could always try making a go of it in real life,” he mused aloud, hoping he sounded completely neutral about the idea even though his mind was fully against it. “Might not be the same, but you never know.”

“Yeah.” It was probably his imagination that she seemed unenthusiastic. Then she rolled onto her side to look at him. “I know I said he was the perfect man for me, but I don’t know how we’d actually make it, him hardly talking and all. I think I can count on one hand the conversations we actually had. And that’s alright for a virtual reality where everything else gets filled in for you.”

“But you wouldn’t want that for actual reality?”

“Well, I’d just be talking and talking at him, and he’d probably be wishing I’d just shut it already. I mean, I’m talking your ear off right now, and anybody else would tell me to let them sleep, but it doesn’t bother you.”

“Even I know it’d be a bit hypocritical if it did,” he remarked. The Doctor didn’t need Donna’s help to realize now wasn’t the time to make this about him, however, so he rolled onto his side as well.

Somehow he forced out the words, “I’m sure if Lee were real and loved you it wouldn’t bother him, either.”

She smiled, and he couldn’t decide if that was good or not.

Donna snuggled a bit more into her pillow. “Goodnight, Spaceman.”

“Goodnight, Earthgirl.”

—-

The Doctor left long before she woke up. Not because he was uncomfortable; far from it. But that wasn’t what this was about.

He had been invited into Donna’s room and bed and confidance as a friend, purely to help her to sleep, not to let her wake up in his arms and be the first thing she saw in the morning. So he extricated himself from the tangled pile they had become somewhere in the half hour or so that he’d dozed off, picked up his jacket and shoes, and tiptoed to the door. Donna slept on.

She found him in the morning under the grating in the console room and carried with her two mugs of tea and a smile that seemed less brittle.

“Morning.”

“Morning.” The Doctor climbed out from under the grating and carefully asked, “Up for a day of running?”

She thought it over a moment. “I think so.”

—-

That night, she didn’t immediately withdraw the minute they got back to the TARDIS. He threw a little something together with noodles that probably wasn’t very good, but she ate it with a quiet, “Thanks,” anyway.

“Don’t get up,” he warned once she’d cleared her plate. He took all the dishes to the sink to wash and dry them himself.

When Donna was still sitting there after he’d finished, he didn’t have to ask. The Doctor placed his hand in hers and let her lead them back to her room.

He waited on top of the blankets while Donna shut herself in the bathroom and started the shower running. He twiddled his thumbs for about ten minutes, then leaned over and snagged a magazine off her bedside table.

When Donna emerged from the bathroom with towel-dried hair and in a set of comfy-looking pajamas, he was engrossed in an article about how proper nail care increased the human lifespan, supposedly. The Doctor didn’t look up until he realized she had stopped and was staring.

“What?”

“Haven’t you got anything to sleep in?”

He looked down at his tie and shirtsleeves. “Er, yes. Should I wear that next time?”

“I thought you’d have gotten them already.” Donna rolled her eyes and climbed into bed, so he wriggled under the blankets with her. Next time, then.

And when she laughed the next night at his pinstripe pajamas, he couldn’t find it in him to even pretend to be insulted.

—-

Donna did dream about the son and daughter she’d lost, but not in the way that she’d feared. He could tell because they weren’t happy dreams.

“No, no please! Please!”

The Doctor gathered her into his arms and stroked her hair, speaking softly in her ear.

“It’s over, Donna. You did everything you could. It’s over.”

He couldn’t tell her it was okay, not when it wasn’t. She deserved better than lies.

When Donna sagged against him, he knew he’d gotten through to her. The Doctor lowered them back down onto the bed, still wrapped up in each other.

They were all the other had. And he had to hope that would be enough.

—-

On Threnau Prime, they got kicked out of the palace for not being devout Frixops.

“You ever heard of tourists?” Donna hollered at the retreating backs of the guards. “Your economy’s loss, mate!”

She looked at him, eyes narrowing even further.

“What are you grinning about?”

The Doctor shook his head, smile only growing. “Nothing.”

Slowly but surely, he was getting his Donna back.

—-

“Do you miss her?” Donna asked out of the blue, her back to him.

“Miss who?”

“Your friend.” She was silent a beat too long, clearly debating whether to clarify. “Professor Song.”

The Doctor stared up at the ceiling, mind drawing a blank. It wasn’t that he’d forgotten River Song — how could he? — but he’d been so concerned with Donna that it had allowed him not to dwell on the woman who’d died for a him that didn’t exist yet.

“I don’t know,” he finally said. “It’s hard to know what to miss.” His head fell to the side, resting on his pillow to stare at the back of her head. He wasn’t sure what Donna had made of his response with her not facing him. He wasn’t sure when it had become his pillow, either. “Why do you ask?”

Her shoulders were tense, that much he could tell, almost up to her ears. “I don’t know. I just thought, you’ve let me go on about what I lost in the Library. I wanted to check on you.”

The Doctor shook his head. “You don’t have to repay your time, Donna. They’re two different things.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Yours is real.”

He pushed himself up on an elbow. “Alright, what’s really bothering you?”

The little he could make out of Donna’s face now was flushed, though the exact shade he couldn’t say in the dark. “What?”

“Professor Song. Something about it is bothering you that you’re not saying.”

Maybe he was just hoping for an ulterior motive, but he couldn’t shake the thought now.

“It’s not—I’m not bothered,” she huffed. “I’m just saying if you miss her, I...don’t think I’m supposed to be around the next time.” She picked at a thread sticking out of her pillowcase and continued not to look at him. “So it’s okay if you want that to happen sooner. You don’t have to keep me around.”

The Doctor was completely still. He hadn’t even considered that Donna might think him eager to move onto whatever that adventure was. Certainly, he had some curiosity, but it was sobered by the reality of where it would end for River.

And if it meant giving up Donna, he wasn’t in any hurry to get there at all. Possibly ever.

The Doctor threw his arms around her and hooked his chin over her shoulder. Donna kicked her legs a couple times with a startled squawk.

“Hands!”

Just this once, he ignored her. “Donna, that could be years or centuries away. And I am perfectly content to wait.”

She peered back at him, searching for some hint of a lie. “Really?”

“Won’t even notice the time go by, long as I’ve got you around.”

Her gaze softened. “Daft. Daft Spaceman.” She turned her face away again, though this time he suspected it was to hide a smile.

He dared to snuggle a little closer. “But pretty, though, right?”

“Go to sleep.” Her arms came up, hugging his to her.

The Doctor closed his eyes with a smile of his own he didn’t bother to hide. “Yes, Madame.”

—-

They found themselves at an inn one night. There wasn’t much to be done until the Erinnian ship arrived tomorrow, and Donna had decided it was too far to make the trek all the way back to the TARDIS.

The Doctor trailed a step behind her as she marched up to the desk.

“Hi,” Donna greeted the hostess, who looked up and offered them a smile.

“Hello. May I help you and your husband—”

They didn’t let the poor woman finish.

“Oh, we’re not married.”

“Definitely not married.”

The hostess was clearly well-trained, for she merely gave a pleasant, “My mistake. Were you interested in booking two rooms, then?”

The Doctor and Donna looked at each other.

“Oh.” He scrubbed at one cheek without quite meeting the hostess’ eyes. “Well, one room would be fine.”

“Probably cheaper,” Donna added with a nervous laugh.

“A twin room?”

Another look was exchanged.

“Um—”

“Well—”

“Or we do have a double room available,” she added. If he wasn’t mistaken, there was the slightest amused smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

“That’d be lovely, thanks,” the Doctor squeaked out.

The hostess passed over the key and told them the room number, though he was just happy to let Donna accept it and follow her hasty retreat out of the main room.

“So maybe next time, we just let them think whatever they want to think,” said Donna, fiddling with the key as they climbed the steps. “I mean, if they’re gonna think it anyway.”

“Sounds reasonable,” the Doctor agreed.

“Yeah,” she said, the funniest sort of quirk to her lips, like she couldn’t make up her mind whether to smile or frown. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?”

—-

He held her some nights and wondered if he made a suitable substitute or if Donna was merely making do. Did she pretend it was a broader chest at her back, bigger arms that held her?

Sometimes he’d catch her murmuring in her sleep unintelligible things, or she’d roll to face him and nuzzle her way under his chin. His hearts would constrict and a lump would rise in his throat. It wasn’t real, no matter how much he longed for it to be.

Inevitably she was going to say a name, and he knew it wouldn’t be his. It couldn’t be.

What the Doctor didn’t know was what he would do when that happened.

—-

They stopped off in Chiswick for a visit. Really, he should have brought Donna here immediately after the Library, but he’d been selfish and worried that she’d choose to remain with her family while the memories of he virtual one were so fresh.

Of course, if he’d known how intolerable Sylvia was going to be, he might have just kept on avoiding the place altogether.

“And how do you even support yourselves? You can’t have jobs, in and out the way you are.”

Technically, it was none of his business, even if the conversation was half about him. Donna and her mother were out in the kitchen and having a supposedly private talk, though he was pretty sure even Wilfred could hear judging by the man’s nervous fidgeting as they sat across from each other in the sitting room.

“Obviously, you’re still eating.”

“Actually lost half a stone since the last time we dropped by,” said Donna, and while he was glad she was standing up for herself, it pained his hearts that she was still looking for her mother’s approval.

“Hm, and I suppose that makes up for the rest of it.”

“What do you mean, the rest of it?”

“The unemployment, the lack of a proper roof over your head. I mean, how’s any of that going to look on your CV?”

“Sorry, is this a job interview? Where do I see myself in the next five years?”

“Donna—”

“Because I can tell you, it’s right where I am now!”

Wilf gave up any pretense of not being able to hear, cracking a smile and remarking to him, “That’s not bad, eh? She’s got plans for you.”

“For God’s sake, Donna, you’re almost forty!” Sylvia hissed like it was a dirty word. “You’ve got to be thinking about your future. A job, or a husband with a steady one, children!”

Sylvia had crossed a line. She didn’t know it, but she had. The Doctor stood and marched straight for the kitchen archway.

“And who says I want any of that?” Donna shouted just as he made it there. Whatever he’d been intending to say flew right out of his head as she turned and caught sight of him. She froze just as he had.

There was a long silence not even Sylvia seemed to know how to interrupt.

Faintly, the Doctor heard himself ask, “You...don’t?”

Donna slowly shook her head. Then, as if that hadn’t been enough, she spoke. “I’ve already got what I want.”

He had to be dreaming. Any minute he’d wake up with Donna’s breath on the back of his neck or her cold toes pressed to his calf — which sounded like a dream itself and therefore wasn’t at all helpful.

They made a quick exit from the Noble house after that, most of which was a blur in his mind. He couldn’t focus on much else except that Donna was happy just as she was and wasn’t looking to leave for anyone anytime soon.

“I mean, it’s not that I don’t ever want children or anything,” she confessed later that night. They were each on their separate ends of the bed like the first time. “I still miss Josh and Ella. And Lee. I suppose part of me always will. But I wouldn’t want to go back to that life.”

“No?”

She shook her head again. “I couldn’t. Cos that’d mean, well, the Library made me forget things. Mostly everything I’d been doing up till then, so I wouldn’t realize it was all fake. And probably so I wouldn’t want to go.”

“It made you forget the traveling?”

She didn’t answer for a long time. “Sometimes I’m scared if I fall asleep, I’ll really be in that world, and I won’t know how to get out. And everything I’ve seen and done out there’ll be gone, and you—” She stopped, too choked up to go on.

The Doctor only had to reach out with one hand before she was moving into his embrace.

“Hey, I’ve got you. It’s okay.”

He didn’t see anything wrong in saying it this time. It wasn’t a lie.

—-

One morning, he made a mistake. He stayed.

He hadn’t meant to. But he’d been waiting longer and longer to depart as the nights had gone on and it grew harder to leave her. Donna slept straight through most nights with no problem now, but he simply relished the feeling of her in his arms, red, red hair falling onto his shoulder.

It didn’t quite register when she blinked her eyes open. Only when her voice, still a little groggy, mumbled a, “Morning,” up at him did he realize with a start.

“Oh!” The Doctor’s eyes darted guiltily to the door he should have been through hours ago. “Uh, sorry.”

“What for?” She had to still be fogged up with sleep, that was the only reason she’d be watching him so calmly.

“Well, um, you probably want a minute, if you’re waking up,” he stammered. Donna usually didn’t emerge from her room until she’d at least combed her hair back from her face and found a robe to put on over her nightclothes.

She hummed a sort of acknowledgement to that, then let her eyes fall closed again. “Five more minutes, then.”

It didn’t seem to be a dismissal.

“Oh. Okay.”

Maybe this was real. Maybe Donna wanted to wake up to him in the morning just the same as he wanted to wake up to her. Maybe that was enough.

They were alright.

Hearts hammering loud enough that Donna had to be hearing them with her head resting on his chest, the Doctor dropped his head back onto his pillow and counted down from five minutes.

And then, since it wasn’t hurting anything, another five minutes more.

#doctor x donna #ten x donna #donna noble #tenth doctor #doctor who #the doctor #my writing #Anonymous

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darveyfics · 6 years

Text

prompt: donna teaching harvey to skate, or vice versa

Darvey ice skating at the rockefeller center and maybe Harvey never learned to skate plss

“Slippery Slope”

“You’re doing it wrong.”

“How do you figure?” He grumbles in response, a sour expression on his face as he tries and fails to pick himself off the rink.

Donna purses her lips, “I’m fairly certain your ass isn’t meant to meet the ice every ten seconds.”

He glares up at her smirk, hesitating for a moment before accepting her outstretched hand. She helps him up in one fell swoop and he momentarily admires her physical strength.

“Why the hell did I agree to this again?” Harvey ponders, more to himself as he grips her glove covered hand tighter, gliding at a snail’s pace across the ice.

“Because I asked you to,” she reminds him with a cheeky smile.

His lips quirk at her pleased look, shaking his head at his own lack of self will when it came to Donna Paulsen. Momentarily distracted by the way her auburn hair flows in the wind, he suddenly feels himself wobbling again.

“Okay, tell me what I’m doing wrong here,” Harvey pleads, outstretching a hand in an attempt to steady himself.

“Try bending your knees, not too much though,” she eyes him warily as he fixes his stance next to her, “And try picking up your feet a little, so I’m not literally dragging you across the ice.”

He follows her instructions with a deep focus, doing as he was told to the best of his ability…

“What?” He tells her when he notices her biting her lip, holding back a laugh.

“What what?” She retorts in her best innocent tone.

He tilts his head at her, “Donna,”

“You just- you look like Bambi trying to walk, is all,” she finally lets a chuckle loose.

“Gee, thanks.”

The glare he sends her is enough to set him off balance again, nearly toppling over for the fifth time that night already.

Donna extends her arms out in reflex, ready to steady him if need be, “See? That’s what you get,” she mocks. “Okay, now try holding onto the railing.”

“I’m not a child, Donna.”

She lifts an eyebrow in his direction, “You’re sure as hell acting like one tonight.”

“Am not.”

“Oh, you’ve convinced me.” She gives him that Donna look until he relents, grabbing onto the railing with a pout on his lips.

They glide for a while in a comfortable silence, the already darkening sky making them one of the few skaters left in the rink. Harvey eyes the remaining children stumbling out of the ice with their parents by their side, the cacophony of giggles echoing in the distance as they flee into the night. He eyes his girlfriend then, a navy blue beanie adorning her head, whips of copper hair flowing against the cool night breeze.

“So, tell me something?” She turns to look at him, a relaxed smile playing on her peach tinted lips, “Why do you like ice skating so much?”

Donna shrugs, “I’ve just always enjoyed it, I don’t know, I don’t have some kind of sentimentality attached to it, it was just always something I did during this time of year.”

His smile mirrors her own, and he squeezes her hand in response. When she had come to him earlier in the week, a giddy smile on her lips as she stepped into his office and told him she planned on taking him out to ice skate, he’d been a little taken aback. For all the things he knew about his best friend, her love for ice skating had somehow slipped through the cracks. Still, he had hesitated when she asked, the thought alone making him shift uncomfortably in his chair.

“What?” She asked, half amused.

“I don’t- really ice skate, Donna.”

She smirked, “Of course you don’t, that’s why I’m going to teach you.”

“But-”

“No, ‘buts’, mister. We both know you’re going to cave eventually so just give it up. I’ll pick you on Saturday at seven. It’ll be fun.”

And with an all too excited grin, she had left his office with an extra bounce on her step. And it had been fun, mostly. If you didn’t count the times he had fallen on his ass during the first half hour alone… Still, watching her now, pale face flushed with glee, her nose and cheeks tinted red from the cold, he found that he was having fun. In some cliché he swore he never would fall victim to, just having her by his side was enough to make this winter endeavor all the more appealing.

“Okay, now you’re getting it.” Donna comments after a while, noting how he went from an awkward stumble to a semi-graceful glide, “Kind of,” she snorts when her voice causes him to falter.

His attempt at a glare fails when his lips quirk at her own smile. She had an uncanny ability to let her mirth rub onto him, as he’s come to realize in the thirteen years he’s known her.

“So, do you have any Christmas plans yet?” Harvey inquires after a beat, tightening his hold on her hand when they come to a turn.

Donna chews on her lips for a moment, his question catching her off guard. “Uh, not really, no. I mean, I usually go up to see my parents, but nothing has been set in stone yet this year, why?” She turns to look at him, her curiousity peeking when she can visibly see him trying to organize his next words in his mind.

“My brother called,” he starts slowly, gauging her reaction in the corner of his eye, “He has his annual Christmas Eve dinner thing he throws with his wife and her parents who also go, I think.” Donna sends him an amused smile as he starts fumbling through the words. “Their kids will also be there, of course.” He pauses for a moment, eyes trained on his skates, but she has an inkling he’s just trying to formulate his next words carefully. “And uh, well, my mom will be there too.”

Donna raises her eyebrows once his gaze meets hers, “Are you going?” She asks him quietly.

Harvey shrugs, “I want to. It’s been- too long since we all shared a Christmas together.”

She sends him a soft smile, squeezing his hand to let him know she understood.

“I want you to come with me,” he finally manages to get the words out, his eyes hopeful and shy all at once.

Despite the fact that she saw this coming, his invitation still sets her heart racing, the implications of what it meant to take a girl home for the holidays hitting her in full.

“You sure?” She breathes out.

Harvey nods, “Yeah, I want you there. Actually pretty certain I wouldn’t go without you,” he chuckles, trying to lighten the conversation.

Donna quirks her lips, “You could, you know.”

He shakes his head too quickly at her words and she finds herself laughing at the gesture, “Okay, I will.”

“Really?” His feet brake against the ice then, causing Donna to nearly face plant against the frozen water. Harvey reaches out without thought, steadying her with an unexpected balance, “You okay?” He smirks when she clutches his biceps to secure herself.

“You want me to leave you on the ice alone?” She raises her eyebrows at him, smirking in return when he visibly swallows her threat.

“Point taken,” he grumbles. His hands carefully slide down to her waist then, making sure they were balanced before he looked into her eyes again, “So… you’ll go?”

“Of course. How else am I going to get to hear all of the embarassing stories of one Harvey Specter when he was a child?” Her tongue peaks out between her teeth in a coy smile.

Despite himself, he lets a smile creep onto his own face, shaking his head at her antics. “God, you and my brother are going to get along well. Too well, if you ask me.”

Donna chuckles at his semi-horrified expression, “And your mom?”

Harvey sobers up, the casual mention of his mother still rocking him off kilter, “Well, she already loves you, that much I know.”

She tilts her head at his words, forehead knitting beneath her beanie, “How do you figure?”

“I may have- mentioned that you were the reason I finally went to go see her, why I forgave her after all this time.”

His confession hits her like a ton of bricks, not expecting this kind of admission from him, “Harvey…”

“I didn’t mention you by name, but she knows. I uh, also may have mentioned I was seeing someone during our last phone call and she kind of connected the dots,” he tells her sheepishly.

Her heart stutters at the mention of him telling his mom about her, knowing he wouldn’t share just anything with the woman. “You know that was all you, Harvey. I couldn’t have encouraged you to go see her if you weren’t ready.” Her glove covered hand meets his cheek, the warmth emitting from it making his eyes flutter close for a split second.

“I know,” he whispers, “But I also know I couldn’t have done it without you, gotten that extra push I needed to go see her.”

She smiles in response, her lips meeting his in a short peck before settling against him again. “I’m proud of you, Harvey. You deserve to have all the family you can have around you, especially during this time of year.”

“So do you,” he replies on a reflex, bringing both of her hands to his lips. He knows that after her father had spent of all of their family savings, she never quite had that picture perfect holiday again. Neither of them did. “You’re my family now, Donna. I mean, you always were, that goes without saying, but from here on out? We’re a package deal.”

She tries to come up with a quip to throw his way, still not used to having this overly sweet and sappy Harvey in her life, but finds that she can’t find it in her. Not when he’s looking at her with those warm brown eyes that have comforted her for twelve plus years, that she now gets to wake up to everyday.

Instead, she leans up as best she could with her skates on, standing on the tip of the blades to give him a lingering kiss. His arms wind around her automatically, keeping her in place as he angles his head against her, deepening their kiss. She only lets his tongue slide agains her a few times, pulling back before their kiss goes too far, knowing there were still a few children lurking around the arena.

Parting from his lips, she finds a Cheshire Cat-like smile facing her, and she feels her cheeks warming against his gaze, “What?” she chuckles.

Harvey shakes his head, “Nothing, just, you look cute tonight.”

That warming in her cheeks grows ten-fold then and she curses herself for being so affected by him. “Cute?”

“Yeah,” Harvey shrugs, that boyish grin still in place. His eyes rake over her form, from her navy blue beanie, to the matching scarf she wore, making her appear more youthful. It was a strike contrast to the array of expensive dresses and heels he saw her in at work everyday, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to seeing her, having her, in the most casual and normal settings.

Her eyes narrow playfully at him, “I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not,” she jokes.

“Compliment,” Harvey reassures, leaning over to press a kiss to her cold nose.

An unexpected giggle escapes her at his actions, and she suddenly feels like she’s sixteen, out on an ice skating date with her first boyfriend, “You’re incorrigible.”

He sends her that cheeky smile again as she shakes her head, taking his hand in hers to continue their journey across the ice. In a bold move, he starts to pick up the pace, getting a handle on the movements of his feet, gliding through with a sudden speed.

“You know, I think I’m starting to get the hang of this,” he notes proudly.

“Harvey…” Donna eyes him warily when they start picking up momentum, his hand leaving the rail in increments, “Harvey I didn’t think-”

Suddenly, his feet grow a mind of their own, his own skates colliding and causing him to stumble forward. She reaches over to him on reflex, trying to break his fall and get him to hold onto the wall at the same time. In an attempt to prevent himself from toppling over her, he reels her back in, causing him to tumble backwards, landing himself firmly on his ass, with Donna half on top of him, a squeal of surprise and fear leaving her lips.

“Harvey what the hell!”

Her own ass is planted on the ice, leaving her long legs to be strewn across his lap.

“Shit,” Harvey winces, a sharp pain shooting straight through him, “Are you okay?” He eyes her then, concern written on his features as he studies her for any visible injuries.

“I’m fine,” she scowls, “I didn’t notice you hit your head the last time you fell, did you suddenly forget you couldn’t skate?” she swats his chest in annoyance.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles beside her, trying to dust off the pieces of ice off their pants.

“Uh, huh.”

“Hey, you sure you’re okay?” He reaches for her hand, eyes riddled with guilt.

Her demeanor softens slightly under his gaze, “Yeah,” she breathes out at once, “You?”

Harvey only nods dumbly in response, “My ego is more bruised than my ass, but I’m fine.” Her lips curl at his words, watching as he grumbles trying to stand himself up.

“Easy there, hot shot,” Donna swings her legs over him, managing to stand up with ease before she reaches her hands out to him.

“God, I hope our kid grows up to have your coordination and not mine,” Harvey mutters as he finally stands to full height.

“What?”

“What what?” Harvey watches her wide eyes with confusion, until his own words sink in.

Oh.

Our kid.

“Oh, I, uh, I didn’t mean- I just meant- that when we, well not when, but you know, if we ever- if you want-”

“Harvey,” If she wasn’t so taken aback by his words she would’ve laughed at his near horrified expression.

Her boyfriend sighs, “I just-”

“You think about that? Having kids?” Her voice is soft when she speaks, almost timid. It had only been a few months since they had gotten together, and even with thirteen years of history behind them, they still hadn’t talked about having kids or marriage. She almost thought she was going to meet the ice again when the words had slipped out of his mouth.

“I- well, yeah,” he confesses on a sigh, “Does that freak you out?” He inquires with a wince, almost expecting her to run away, or better yet skate away, screaming.

A laugh escapes her at his words, surprised he would be the one voicing that, “No, it doesn’t.” She steps closer to him then, trying her best to hold onto his arms without letting them lose their balance again.

His lips quirk, “No?”

Donna shakes her head, her hazel eyes gleaming under the towering lights of the city, “I just never thought you would…”

“Want kids?”

She bites her lip in response, nodding.

He mirrors her nod, “Yeah, I never would’ve thought so either,” he takes hold of the railing, clasping onto her hand as they begin a slower glide through the rink again, “I never saw myself being… that guy.”

“A dad?” She ponders beside him, watching him.

“Yeah, but then,” he turns to look at her before facing ahead again, not wanting to land them on the cold ground again, “We got together, and it’s- been on my mind a lot.”

Once again, his confession makes her heart race against her chest, her own words catching in her throat with an emotion she didn’t even know where to place.

“I just feel like, we already wasted so much time being apart you know?” His guilt over that fact was something she has come to know too well, knowing that he still beat himself up for taking too long to get to where they were now, despite her constant reassurance that it had been a two-person job.

Suddenly, a thought enters her mind, and she tries not to let it halter her movements lest they fall again, “Wait… are you saying you want kids… soon?”

Her breath hitches as she waits for his response, only relaxing when he shakes his head.

“No, no, I mean, if it happened, then, I’ll be thrilled- albeit freaked the hell out,” she laughs at his admission, “but, I do want it to happen. Someday.” His eyes turn to meet hers again, and that familiar fluttering in her stomach rises.

“Someday,” she echoes softly.

“Yeah, someday.” His grin encourages her own, and he squeezes her hand in response.

They glide in a comfortable silence across the ice for a couple more minutes, relishing in the quiet of the night, a rarity for living in the city.

“Just promise me one thing?” Donna’s voice finally breaks through.

“Anything,” comes his immediate response.

“Let me be the one to teach our kid how to skate.”

#darvey #darvey fic #donna x harvey #suits #author: ali #rated t #prompt #one shot #holiday #christmas

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dwsecretsanta · 6 years

Text

Of Stars and Wolves

Alright, so this is for the Doctor Who Secret Santa over on tumblr. @darklordpthalo, this is for you.

I don’t own Doctor Who or anything really. @darklordpthalo wanted a soulmate AU, a shapeshifter AU, or a kiss under the stars so the idea for this fic goes to them. I just ran with it. I hope they enjoy this.

Words: 6,625 Author: @magewriter

Shapeshifters always had soulmates. It was a universal fact. Admittedly, said soulmate was not always a shifter. Non-shifters had soulmates, but theirs were nowhere near as vitally important to their overall wellbeing as it was for shifters. Humans were seemingly perfectly happy to settle, even as obsessed as they were with soulmates. For them, it was only a matter of a completed image on their skin as a ‘soulmate’ for a normal human was not always a romantic mate. A shifter’s soulmate always was. There could be no other for them, not in that way.

That, however, was not a problem Rose Tyler ever thought she would have to worry about. Her entire family, from both parents as far back as anyone could remember, had always been shifters. It wasn’t an uncommon trait. About a third of the world’s population was of some Shapeshifter lineage. Probably more, but who was or wasn’t a shifter was not always apparent and it was considered rude to ask.

She was musing over those thoughts as she watched the man she thought might just be her soulmate. Rose had come across him nearly two months ago, but had not managed to gather the courage to approach him. Instead, she used her free time in the afternoon to watch him in the park (when he showed up, he didn’t always) and try to understand why else she might be drawn to him if he wasn’t her soulmate.

“Moping again?” Mickey said, sitting beside her on the bench Rose had taken possession of in the small park near the university. He called it ‘moping’ because otherwise he’d have to term it ‘stalking’, and that could very well end up in a fight.

“I’m not moping,” Rose protested. “And aren’t you supposed to be meeting Martha?”

“How’d you think I found you?” He pointed to the nearest tree where a Barn Own sat, glaring at Rose.

Rose waved at the owl. “Couldn’t use your own nose to find me?”

“And nearly get dragged to the pound again?” Mickey shivered in distaste. To get out of that, he’d had to transform, naked, in the tiny little cell the dog catchers had shoved him into.

“Wouldn’t happen if you wore the collar like your Gran said to.” Rose said, getting up. “Give me her clothes so she can shift back.” She snatched the bag he’d been carrying even as he protested the thought of wearing a collar.

A few moments later, both young women returned to the bench. Martha was finger combing her hair back into a pony tail.

“Next time,” she told her boyfriend, “it’s your turn to track her down. I can’t skip hours at the hospital like I can skip out of class.”

“Martha, you didn’t need to do that.” Rose told her. “It isn’t like I was lost or anything. Mickey could have just called my phone.” She held up said object. “Fully charged and everything.”

Mickey blushed. “I forgot mine at home.” He admitted. “And it’s not like you would’ve answered. You’ve been ignoring your phone for the past two weeks, always around now.”

“He has a point,” Martha agreed, perching herself on the back of the bench as she spoke. Rose might have been the gymnast, but she was the one who was part bird. Martha’s whole family could shift into avian form, including her siblings’ mates. Hers was the only owl though, just as Mickey was the only non-avian.

“Yeah, and we’re concerned.”

“Curious ya mean,” Rose corrected him with a role of her eyes.

She adored her friends. She thought they were wonderful for each other. Martha didn’t look down on them for coming from a Council Estate or their lack of higher education. She had been jealous of Rose at first, thinking that she was going to be competition for Mickey’s attention. Rose had solved that quickly, happily shoving her oldest friend into the other woman’s arms with a ‘he is house broken; just don’t leave out any tennis balls’ before she scarpered off to her mother’s for the weekend.

It did not mean that she was going to indulge their curiosity. Not when they had taken it upon themselves to try and help her find her soulmate.

“Can you blame us?” Martha questioned her. “It’s not your usual style Rose, especially when not even Jack can find out where you disappeared off to and he always knows.”

“No, Ianto always knows and just tells him,” Rose corrected, almost absently.

There was a thought. Jack was the one shifter she knew personally that had a soulmate who wasn’t also a shifter. Jack was a literal alley cat; at least he had been until falling into Ianto’s lap. Again, literally as he’d been out roaming when Jackie had scared him off the railing of Rose and Mickey’s shared apartment (another reason Martha had thought she needed to be jealous) and Ianto had caught him.

However, Jack was also her boss along with being her friend so that made it a little awkward. He would also be an even worse meddler than Mickey and Martha. Gods, he’d also be the one to mention it to her mother and then Jackie Tyler would be prowling around the park to sniff out the potential soulmate of her only child.

Rose didn’t need or want that. She wasn’t even sure why she was being so hesitant in approaching the man, other than the fact he was occasionally accompanied by several different women. She also had no desire to be so very wrong about another man ever again, the first one had been more than enough.

“Oh, hey, that’s John!” Martha stood, precariously balanced on the back of the bench now, to wave the man over.

“You mean the bloke who managed to blow up the table in your chemistry class?” Mickey asked, moving just enough so that she was balancing more on his shoulders than the bench.

“The one and only,” she replied with a grin.

Neither one of them noticed that Rose’s faced had paled a little, or that her normal smile had tightened. Then again, it would be her luck that the mystery guy she’d been eyeing for weeks now would be known to her friend.

“Who’s that with him?” Mickey asked as the man bounced over to them, leaving his female companion to trail behind him.

“Oi! Spaceman!” The very loud ginger yelled, “wait up you over-eager puppy!”

“But Donna! It’s Martha!” John answered cheerily. “Hi Martha! Who are your friends?”

Martha grinned. She had had a very brief crush on John Noble when she had first met him, before realizing that he was absolutely insane and she much preferred someone more down to Earth. His sister Donna was fun and understood just how insane and overwhelming her brother could be.

“This is my boyfriend Mickey Smith and our friend Rose Tyler. Hi Donna, what’s he dragged you into this time?”

“He thinks an absolutely enormous wolf has moved into the park. He dragged me along for a second witness.” Donna answered, hugging Martha briefly. They had met before, several times as it was Donna’s ‘job’ to sign her brother out of the infirmary. They had taken to exchanging stories about his antics, as Martha had (during her crush phase) allowed John to drag her around London and occasionally the nearby counties on ‘adventures’.

“An enormous wolf, huh?” Mickey asked, eyeing his oldest friend. The only reason Rose wouldn’t be picked up the dog catchers would be because they’d call out the wild life rescue instead. He really did not want to have to explain to Jackie that they needed to go pick Rose up from whatever sanctuary or woodland animal control dragged her to.

“Yep,” John nodded, grin still plastered to his face. “I’ve only seen it twice so far, so I wonder if it’s more nocturnal or a shifter out for a run, but still!”

Martha looked between the two. John, for all he was talking to them, was looking at Rose as if she was the only person there to speak to. Rose was being quiet, but Martha was certain her friend had just the slightest of blushes beginning to cover her cheeks.

“It is lunch hour, so maybe the shifter idea isn’t so far off.” Martha agreed. So, Rose had been wondering around the park in wolf form, had she? Interesting…as Rose typically didn’t transform within city limits unless she was inside the apartment or at The Playground.

“Lunch! Right! We were supposed to get lunch today!” John looked at his sister, just now remembering why Donna had come to drag him out of his privet lab.

“Now you remember,” Donna rolled her eyes again. She looked at her watch. “Almost too late now.”

“Chips,” Rose suggested, speaking for the first time. “There’s a chippy nearby, we could go there.”

“Great!” John nodded, attention now back on the pretty blonde he’d been seeing for several weeks now. He’d been curious about her ever since he had first seen her, but had never gotten up the courage to actually speak to her.

She had shown up just after the first time he had seen the wolf. He thought it an odd coincidence, but it wasn’t as if he could just ask. That would be rude. He knew he was rude, very rude and very not ginger (no, Donna had all the luck there), but he’d only made that mistake once. He wasn’t that oblivious to make the same mistake twice. Plus, what if he was wrong? Then it would be doubly rude.

“Great,” Rose smiled at him, relaxing a little.

Mickey rolled his eyes this time. “Come on then, Jake’s waiting for me to get back to the shop and Martha’s got to get back to class.”

“Right, and my lunch break’s nearly over. Get a move on it Spaceman.”

“Going Earth Girl,” John retorted, dodging the slap his sister aimed for the back of his head. “Sisters! Really!”

Rose giggled at their antics. “Come on then, I’ll show you the way.”

Almost as if they’d planned it, the other three watched as they clasped hands. Rose tugged, beginning to lead John towards the chippy she’d told them of.

“Ten pounds says they figure it by the weekend,” Mickey said.

Donna snorted. “You’re on, twenty on it taking at least my brother a month before he figures it out.”

Martha shook her head at them. “Two weeks,” she entered her bet. “And I’m not telling Jackie or Jack.”

“I’m not telling them!” Mickey protested. “That’s Rose’s job.”

“Think they noticed if we went elsewhere for lunch?” Donna asked them.

“Nope,” Mickey shrugged. “Babe, you wanna go to that sushi place you keep mentioning?”

“Sure, coming Donna?”

“Might as well, although I think I’ll pass on the sushi. There’s a burger place right next to it.” Donna headed off, the pair following behind her.

XXXXXX

“Um…” John looked sheepishly at his turned out pockets. “I think I left my wallet in my lab.” So much for him buying lunch…or being a gentleman and paying for Rose’s as well.

Rose had to duck her head to keep from laughing at his face. He looked so cute like that!

“I’ll buy, but next time it’s your turn.” She said, handing over the money to the cashier.

“Ok!” John agreed, smile back on his face. “So…Miss Tyler, what do you do all day besides sit in the park?”

“I work,” she commented, grinning.

“What kind of work?”

“Detective work mostly,” she admitted, “My friend Jack, he’s a PI. I help out him and his partner Ianto doing odd bits.”

“Oh, what kind of odd bits?” John took the basket of fish and chips Rose held out for him, following her to a nearby table.

“Sketches, photos, occasionally climbing into dumpsters or over fences,” or following scent trails or chasing down a culprit or a myriad of other things that her wolf form was useful for, not that she was going to tell him that the first time they spoke. “Occasionally I play Girl Friday to his James Bond, Ianto’s a bit too proper for that role although he does look good in a suit.”

John frowned…that sounded…oh! “You wouldn’t happen to mean Jack Harkness would you?”

“I do, you know him?” Rose was curious now. First Martha, now Jack?

John nodded. “We were friends growing up; he flirted a lot with both me and Donna. Had Donna going spare for a bit, leaving black cat hair everywhere and occasionally showing up naked.”

Rose snorted. “Yea, he still does that. Ianto’s got lint rollers hid all over the office, along with spare clothing. First time my Mum met him, she threated to neuter him if he didn’t learn some proper manners. She also scared him off mine and Mickey’s balcony once, landed him right in Ianto’s lap.”

“You live with Mickey?” John was a little confused. Martha had introduced the young man as her boyfriend. Why would he be living with Rose?

“Yeah, we’ve been friends forever and when he was offered an apprenticeship for mechanic at a shop here I came with him to be closer to where I worked at the time. That and he needed a roommate he could trust. Martha lives with us too, now.” Rose explained. “Our apartment is closer to the university than the one she was renting or her mum’s house.”

John nodded, relived although he wasn’t altogether certain why. It made sense, after all. That was why he and Donna had shared an apartment when they had first left Chiswick.

“So what do you do then?” Rose said, changing the subject.

“Oh, I’m a doctor!” He replied. “Not the kind of doctor Martha’s going to be, but astrophysics and astronomy and regular physics and a little bit of chemistry and biology and some other stuff.”

“Wow,” Rose wasn’t really certain how to respond to that. She didn’t even have any A-Levels, never mind a university degree. “I like the stars,” she managed to get out, “couldn’t see them very well on the estate, but that never stopped me from looking up. Drove Mum mad, sneaking up to the roof.”

John’s eyes brightened and he began to babble about his own misadventures of climbing roofs and sending his mother into hysterics. Rose took up the unspoken challenge and responded in kind until it was very clear that they had to be making things up.

“Okay, I give!” Rose finally said with a laugh. “I’ve never set anything on fire, accident or otherwise.”

“Occupational hazard with me,” John told her, basking in the sound of her laughter and enjoying the fact that he had brought it out. “I’m still banned from the kitchen, every kitchen, on campus. The only reason I’m still allowed into the labs is because I’m good with introductory chemistry classes. Teaching them, at least, and I’ve got my own lab.”

“You think you’re so impressive!” Rose said, smiling the tongue touched smile that she was well known for.

“I am so impressive I’ll have you know Rose Tyler!” John said, matching her smile with one of his own.

“Course you are,” she agreed before giggling.

John would have said something, but at that moment he caught sight of the nearest clock. “Blimy, it’s gotten late.”

Rose looked at her watch, blanching. “I was supposed to be back at work hours ago.” She looked at her phone, seeing that she had several missed calls from pretty much everyone in her small social circle.

“Ah, I could walk you back?” It wasn’t as if he had anything pressing at the lab. He was his own boss, aside from when he had classes to teach.

Rose shook her head. As nice as the thought was, it wasn’t needed.

“No, Jack’s already texted me to have fun.” Rose showed him her phone, where Jack had sent a message to that affect. “Besides, they’ve already closed up for the day. It’s date night for them.”

Jack would just grill her tomorrow about this. Rose was both dreading it and looking forward to it. If she was wrong, it would be just another heartbreak. If she were right though…it could still end in heart break. Donna might have been his sister, but what of the other women she had seen him with? Surely one of them was his girlfriend?

John nodded. “Well then Miss Tyler, what would you like to do?” He paused. Well, that was presumptuous of him, wasn’t it? “I mean, unless you want to leave? Or, uh, you’d rather not…” he was terribly bad at this.

“Let’s go Doctor,” Rose stood and took his hand, feeling brave at the moment. “I’ll walk you back to your lab.”

“Ok,” as if he was going to say no to spending more time with her!

XXXXXXXX

Once she arrived back at her apartment, Rose locked herself in her room. Throwing herself on the bed, she hugged one of the pillows to her chest. Of all the blokes in the world, she would find the oddest of the bunch.

John had kept up an ongoing commentary on their walk back to his lab. He could babble like no one she had ever met, and it had been fascinating for all that there were times what he said flew over her head. She was pretty certain he had invited her to go stargazing out in the country, something about shooting stars and how the city had terrible views for anything cosmic.

Rose was just as certain that she had said she would join him amidst her amusement at his energy. She hadn’t been out of the city in over a year. It would be nice to really have the chance to stretch her legs. The Playground and various parks throughout the city were well and good, but were honestly better suited for the more domesticated Shifters like Mickey and her mother.

That brought up an entirely different set of concerns. How would John feel when he found out? She had to tell him, obviously. There wasn’t a thing wrong with being a Shifter or not, and despite what some people would say there was absolutely nothing wrong with being part of a mixed couple.

It wasn’t as if it was some kind of secret thing. It was rude to announce it or ask outright, but there was nothing secret about it.

Rose gave a long sigh, getting up to strip so she could shift. Once in wolf form, she curled back up onto the bed. With a little bit of maneuvering, she had fully covered herself with her blanket and created a nest of pillows. Warm and comfortable, she turned her thoughts to the real reason why she was so reluctant.

Jimmy Stone.

Fifteen years old, she had been an idiot. He had been older, sure of himself, and able to convince her that they were a perfect match. His mark had never been a match for hers, but even though he was also a Shifter he had sounded so certain that it didn’t actually matter. He had made her head spin with dreams of travel and running free in different parts of the world.

As humans, he had been bigger than her. She had been convinced she was in love with him so had until the very end never thought of turning her beast side upon him. The one and only outright beating he had given her (instead of the usual sharp words and occasional slap or kick) had changed that. Jimmy was a canine shifter, but he was nothing more than a yappy mongrel compared to her Red Wolf.

It was after that incident (she hoped he still bore the scars from her claws across his face) that she had made the decision to never enter another committed relationship unless it was her soulmate. Her actual soulmate, the one who bore the mark that matched hers. Rose was never going to let another pretty face and sweet words convince her otherwise.

Now that she had potentially found him, it scared her. Humans didn’t have the same draw and ingrained loyalty to their soulmates that Shifters did. John could leave her and it wouldn’t harm him in the same way it would her.

Rose had seen it before. Her father died when she was a baby and her mother had never completely gotten over it. She had had boyfriends and lovers, but none that had ever stuck around. Other shifters might not mind a lover, but once they inevitable found their other half then they would be gone. Humans just didn’t understand, not really.

Martha’s dad, for instance, wasn’t a Shifter and had left her mother for a time. Aside from when her frustration reached a breaking point, Martha didn’t like to talk about it. Rose always knew when it was bad because those would be the days that the only one Martha wanted to be around was Mickey. There had been a whole week once where she had remained in owl form because she was tired of being in the middle of the fighting. Mickey had carried her around on his shoulder the entire time, curling up in dog form at night to sleep.

Both of a pair being Shifters didn’t always mean happiness and stability either. Again, her mother was a case in point. Rose had lost count of the number of times she had heard someone say that except for Rose, Jackie may very well have pined herself to death after Pete died. Jackie (who took the form of a Scottish Terrier) had always told Rose that losing a soulmate was one of the most difficult things one could go thru, but (and this was a very big ‘but’) it was not the end of all things. Jackie had never been one to simply give up and she had raised Rose to be the same way.

Mickey’s parents had been soulmates, but they hadn’t remained together. Mickey’s gran had taken him in, lambasting both her son and daughter-in-law for being fools. To this day Mickey didn’t speak to his father, and his mother had died when he was a teenager. Probably (as Jackie and Mickey’s gran were certain) of a broken heart, as uselessly romantic as that was (again, according to the two main adult figures in hers and Mickey’s lives).

So with all of that, Rose was apprehensive. She had not given up on finding her soulmate, just as she had never given up her dreams to travel. She was just a little more realistic about it now at nineteen then she had been at fifteen and sixteen.

Even so, she had had a good time today. Holding his hand as they walked, chatting about random topics and simply listening to him babble about whatever caught his fancy. He could talk for England, he could! Still, as long as he did it while holding her hand she was perfectly happy listening to him.

His hand had felt warm in hers. The few times he had dropped her hand in order to use both of his in his excitement over one topic of another her hand had felt cold, almost as if it would never be warm again. She had to imagine how it would feel to have his hands buried in her ruff or scratching her ears.

Rose startled, falling off the bed as it struck her. They had held hands! Skin to skin! Her mark!

Scrambling to her feet, Rose huffed in annoyance as her blanket den tightened around her. Shifting, she managed to escape with an impatient huff.

“Rose?” Martha called thru the door. They had heard her come in, but when she hadn’t said anything to them they had decided to leave it alone. With the noise now coming from the blonde’s room, however, they were concerned.

“Damn mirror!” Rose cursed. “I’m fine!”

Martha heard her muttering about where her mark was and a giggle escaped her. Hers and Mickey’s marks were on their forearms, easily seen. Rose’s, on the other hand, was in the middle of her right shoulder blade and took effort to see.

“Do you want some help?”

Mickey turned around just as Rose opened her door. He yelped and covered his eyes.

“Quite acting as if you’ve never seen me naked before,” Rose scolded at him, yanking a giggling Martha into her room.

“Still doesn’t mean I want to see it!” Mickey called back. They had learned to control their shifting together and had been closer than some siblings growing up. He waited a beat. “So? Is it any different?”

Martha came out of Rose’s room. She had a wide grin on her face.

“Verdict?” Mickey said, lacing his fingers through hers.

“Wolf paw within this spiral of dots,” Martha explained.

“Dots are new, any shape or just the spiral?” Mickey was glad his was so obvious, a wrench. He had always been good with his hands, and it had pleased him that his mark described him so well. It had gotten slightly more complicated when Martha’s quill had joined it, making it appear as if the quill were drawing the wrench.

His mate was a classy lady. He could easily imagine her dressed to the nines in some Victorian get up, writing with the owl feather quill pen in her neat cursive. Or Ravenclaw robes, which was even easier as they had all dressed up as Hogwarts students for Jack’s Halloween party the year before.

Martha shook her head. “No, but then I’ve never studied astronomy.” There was another thump from Rose’s room. “Think we’ll see her anytime tonight?”

“When her stomach reminds her that she needs to eat, or she wants coffee.” Mickey said. “Gonna call Donna?” He’d liked the ginger they’d eaten lunch with. “And does this mean I won the bet?”

XXXXXXX

“Donna! Donna you need to come see this!”

Donna groaned as she rolled over, yanking a pillow over her head to block out her brother’s voice. Maybe if she ignored him, he would give up. Not that that ever worked, but she could hope.

“Donna!” He whined. “This is important!”

“It’s always important with you Spaceman,” she said, sitting up to glare at him. “What time is it? And why are you naked in my doorway?” There were times she regretted agree to share an apartment with him.

“I’m in a towel,” he protested, tightening said towel around his waist. “I was getting out of the shower when I saw it and I –”

She cut him off. “If this is over another stupid spider I am going to hang your skinny arse from the balcony.” She told him as she got out of bed.

“One time Donna, that was one time!” He said, frowning. He dodged out of her way as she headed towards the bathroom.

“A cricket then? A mouse? I swear, if you’ve gone and ‘rescued’ the lab rats again I’m moving back to Mum’s.” Donna looked around the bathroom, not seeing anything out of place.

“I did that in secondary, and I was twelve.” He defended himself. “No, my mark Donna! Look at my mark!”

“Turn on a light then Spaceman,” she blinked in the sudden brightness. The things she did for her brother. “Well, turn around!”

John did, arching his neck as if he could bend it enough to look at his shoulder blade without the aid of a mirror or two. Donna had often teased him for the spiral of dots there with the big empty space in the center. He had always protested that they were stars in the form of a nebula if a person just knew how to look at it.

Now, the empty space was filed with a clawed paw print. It didn’t look like it was from a dog and it was much too large to be a cat. Donna frowned.

It struck her, then, that it had to be from a wolf. That was what her brother had been looking for in the park after all, and that park was a safe spot for Shifters to run around in while transformed. John probably hadn’t even realized it, but he’d been talking about the blonde girl he had seen almost as often as he’d spoken of the wolf. It was not a stretch, to Donna at least, to think they were one and the same.

“Do you see it?” John was beginning to bounce in place.

“I see it, and yes it really is there.” Donna assured him.

John blinked at her. “But I don’t…and usually I…”

Donna grinned at him. “No gloves Thursday, ran off without them when you were dragging me to the park.”

His eyes kept getting bigger as his brain put the pieces together. Damn it, but this meant that Mickey had won the bet. Donna had been certain her brother (who mostly ignored his mark and steadfastly kept himself covered in layers) would take weeks to notice the change.

“But…but Rose!” It had to be her. She had grabbed his hand and he had grabbed hers. Not just grabbed it, but they had held hands for ages Thursday.

“Unless you’ve been getting handsy with anyone else, yes Rose.” Donna told him.

John went between shaking his head and nodding it. How was he supposed to do this? Just walk up and ask her? Ask to see her mark? Didn’t that count as an innuendo in some circles? He knew it was rude, and while he was rude and not ginger (that was Donna) there were some mistakes he only made once…sometimes.

Donna rolled her eyes. “Get dressed Spaceman, we’ll go check the park and see if she’s there.” After coffee…lots and lots of coffee.

XXXXXXXXX

Rose shoved Jack off her desk, scowling at him. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not showing you. And you’ve got cat hair over my sketches.”

She quickly turned around as he shifted. “Ianto, come and get your cat before I skin him!”

Ianto sighed, finishing the tea as he ignored the antics of his boyfriend and their co-worker. Ever since Mickey had mentioned Rose’s changed mark, Jack had been poking at her to see it. It had been a week now and they were all getting sick of it.

Rose had been steadfastly avoiding the park she’d been frequenting and the man who may or may not even be there. There had been astronomy books littering her desk for that time, along with several pamphlets discussing ‘how to explain being a shifter to a non-shifter’. Those alone had Jack curious, but Rose wasn’t talking.

“Come on Rosie, I’m just curious!” Jack was trying to get her to settle down. He knew from experience that procrastinating talking to your soulmate was hard on a shifter.

“Curiosity killed the cat Jack, do you really want to risk it?” Rose was getting very irritated at him.

A case, any kind of case, would help. It would at least keep him distracted from bothering her. It might also take her mind off John, but she doubted that.

“And satisfaction brought it back,” Jack sing-songed at her. “Besides, even if it did, I have nine lives.”

“Five,” Ianto set a cup of coffee in front of Jack and Rose’s tea in front of her, “and I’m still waiting for the report from the last case.”

“That dog missed, so I have to have at least six left.” Jack teased back, a long running joke between the three of them.

“If you insist,” Ianto replied, going to fix another cup of tea.

They didn’t ask why. Ianto almost always knew when they would be getting someone in with a case. Rose took that as her cue to get some fresh supplies out to take notes with. Jack, deciding to leave it for now, returned to his desk to get out his own things.

The bell above the door chimed, alerting them all that they had a guest. Looking up, Rose squeaked before ducking back down.

“John! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” Jack got up to greet his longtime friend with a hug. “And where is that spitfire of a sister of yours?”

“Donna’s on a date with Lee,” John replied, eyes zeroing in on Rose. His face reddened.

Jack looked between them, confused for a moment before it dawned on him. Rose groaned as she recognized the look that crossed his face.

“So John, what brings you by?” Jack was grinning, which should have been his first warning.

“Oh! Yes!” John jumped, turning his wide gaze to Jack. “I’ve been trying to track a wolf I saw in a park near the campus.” He absently took the tea Ianto handed him. “I was hoping you could help me.”

“Of course we can! Rose is great at tracking.”

Rose was going to kill him. She was certain of that.

John turned back to her. “Really? Um…would you…uh…could you…” he floundered, taking a gulp of tea to give his mouth something to do that wasn’t talking.

“I can meet you at the park in an hour, if that works for you?” Rose was glaring at Jack as she spoke, but he was just grinning back at her.

“Actually,” John coughed, the tea was hot! “Actually, I was thinking about going later tonight, after dark. I haven’t seen it again in the daytime and the first time I saw it was nearly midnight so I thought maybe it was nocturnal and…”

Rose began to smile as he continued to babble. It was cute, especially as he’d put down the tea and was now running his hands thru his hair. It was making it stick up and her hands itched to sooth it back down.

Maybe she wouldn’t kill Jack. She did need to speak to John anyway.

“I’ll meet you at the entrance of the park, yeah?” She got in when he took a pause for breath. “About seven?”

John nodded his head. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds like an idea Rose Tyler.”

Rose shivered. She liked how her name sounded coming from his mouth. “See you then Doctor.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

The sky was just beginning to darken when Rose arrived at the entrance to the park. She had her kit with her, just in case. She doubted she would need it, but if working with Jack had taught her anything it was that it was far better to be over prepared than be caught unawares.

John was already waiting for her. She stopped to watch him for a moment, her hearing catching his muttering.

“Hey Doctor, been waiting long?”

John jumped. “Rose! You’re here! I mean, obviously, where else would you be? I mean-”

Rose laughed. “I know what you mean Doctor. Shall we?” She motioned towards the open park gate.

John smiled. “I like when you call me Doctor.” He rolled the name around in his mind. “I might just start using it. Sounds like the name of an adventurer.”

“Is that what we’re doing, going on an adventure?” Rose teased him, barely registering that they had clasped hands.

“We’re looking for a wolf that may or may not be wild. I’d call that an adventure, wouldn’t you?” John asked her. Her hand felt right in his; as if it were the piece he’d been missing his entire life without knowing it.

“I would,” she bit her lip. “Doctor, I was-”

A low growling cut her off. Instinctively, Rose tried to push John behind her. That wasn’t a friendly growl.

“Rose,” John said slowly, “That’s not the wolf I’ve been looking for.”

“I know John.” Rose shifted her stance, readying herself for whatever she would need to do.

The wolf stalking them from the shadows was a deep black. It wasn’t someone she knew, and most of the canines in the area knew each other. It was considered common curtesy for a new shifter to make oneself known to the local community.

A wild wolf wouldn’t be hunting them like this one was. Rose knew what a hunting wolf looked like, what the air felt like during a hunt. This was a hunt and they were the prey.

“Maybe we should-” John started to say but Rose cut him off.

“Stay absolutely still,” she thrust her kit at him. “Don’t make any sudden movements and stay quiet.”

“Okay,” he whispered, eyes on the other wolf and not on her.

The wolf leapt for them. When it did, Rose sprang into action.

John gaped as his companion, the young woman he was fairly certain was his soulmate, turned into a large reddish-brown wolf. The very same wolf he’d been seeing around the park.

She had done it mid leap, slamming into the other wolf in a tangle of ripped clothing and scrambling paws. All he could do was stare as Rose took on the other wolf in a fight unlike any he’d ever seen. John struggled to remain frozen, wanting to help Rose but not knowing how to.

Teeth snapped, sometimes drawing yelps and growls from the one being bitten. Claws flashed, leaving streaks of blood behind when they connected. Often, they were little more than a tumble of fur.

Finally, Rose emerged victorious. She held the other (much larger, John noted absently) wolf down by the throat. The wolf whimpered, splaying out as much as it could in a display of submission. With a final growl, Rose released him. She cuffed him with a paw, bearing her fangs at him.

He scrambled away from them as fast as his legs could carry him.

Rose gave the impression of snorting in dismissal before approaching John and nudging him. Almost on reflex, he began to stroke her head.

“You know,” he finally said, “it’s highly unfair that even you have more ginger than I do.”

Rose collapsed in laughter, shifting as she did so. “T-t-th-that-that’s th-the b-best y-y-ya g-got?” She managed to say through her laughter.

“No, you’re a wolf! The wolf! And you’re naked!” He spun around.

Rose calmed down. “Yes, unless it’s very skin tight clothing doesn’t shift with you. My bag.”

“What?”

“My bag, I’ve got a spare set in it.”

“oh…oh! Right.” He turned around to hand it to her, blushing as he took her in.

Rose took the chance and turned around, baring her back to him. It was now or never, either their marks matched now or they didn’t.

By his intake of breath, they did.

“You’re my soulmate…and you’re a shifter…”

“That a bad thing?” She tried to keep it light, but then this was her fears made manifest. She didn’t know what she would do if he rejected her.

John shook his head, realized she couldn’t see him with her back turned, and spoke. “No, no it’s not.” He paused. “This is so cool! You can turn into a wolf! A really big wolf, and a ginger one, but a wolf!”

She turned, now fully dressed, to face him. He was bouncing in place, hands flexing as if he wanted to touch her.

“Yeah,” Rose had no idea what to say.

“Do you want to go stargazing with me?” John burst out.

“What?” Now she was confused.

“Stargazing…that’s what I normally do in this park. It’s not the best, but there’s a clearing where the trees block out most of the light and we can talk or not talk or whatever really-”

Rose gave in and kissed him to shut him up. “Sounds lovely,” now she was blushing as red as he was, “lead the way.”

“Right,” he took her hand. “Ready Rose Tyler?”

“Always,” she responded.

“Run.”

And they never stopped.

XXXXXXXX

The end!

Happy Holidays @darklordpthalo, hope this makes you smile!

#magewriter #darklordpthalo #doctor who #fanfic #doctor #ten #rose tyler #mickey smith #martha jones #jack harkness #ianto jones #donna noble #doctor x rose #ten x rose #martha x mickey #ianto x jack #submission

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megabadbunny · 7 years

Text

if we let go (4/?)

I.e., Rose gets a choice, even if she has to carve it out for herself. In this chapter, she and the metacrisis Doctor choose just how vulnerable they’re willing to be with each other.

***

rose x ten, rose x tentoo; a journey’s end fixit (of sorts), dedicated to @travelingrose , whose very good questions reignited my love/hate relationship with this episode/storyline, and to @goingtothetardis, who kept me encouraged while writing (thank you dahling!!! <3). (i believe this also fills some rose x tentoo / tentoo day / tenth doctor month prompts from @timepetalsprompts and @doctorroseprompts .) heavy angst, but also lots of flirting, fluff, romance, some adventure, and some smut; sfw versions on tumblr & ff.net, nsfw versions on ao3 and teaspoon. this chapter is where the nsfw stuff officially kicks in.

***

chapter four: what it is and where it stops, nobody knows

He isn’t surprised by the shrieks that pierce the night air. If anything, he’s surprised it took so long. He is, however, shocked at the sight of Rose, stumbling bleary-eyed into the galley, jacketless and bare-footed.

(Was she sleeping? Where? Just how tired is she?)

It’s not like he forgot she was here—how could he?—but the fact that she’s back onboard the TARDIS still gives him a jolt somehow, like plucking bacon straight out of the sizzling-hot frying-pan and managing to be astonished when it burns your hand.

“Can I help you?” the Doctor asks.

“Can’t sleep. You?”

“Can’t say I’ve tried.”

Rose blinks at him, confused, eyes narrowed against the bright galley light. “Oh,” she says, realizing. “You’re—the other you.”

The Doctor bites back the sarcastic response hiding behind his teeth. “That’s right,” he says instead, downing a gulp of his coffee. It’s black, bitter, and it might as well be jet fuel. He grimaces. “The other me.”

Another cry rings out, and Rose shivers, hugging herself against an invisible chill. “Actually, I wanted to ask—that isn’t Donna, is it? Making that noise? She’s…she’s not in pain?”

The Doctor softens a bit at that despite himself. For all her claims of change, beneath that tough new battle-hardened exterior, Rose is still Rose—tender-hearted and compassionate, sometimes to a fault. Gods, he’s missed that. She and Donna would have got on splendidly.

“No,” he replies. “She’s still in stasis. Can’t feel a thing.” He holds up his medscreen for Rose to see, the stats and figures from Donna’s wrist transceiver blinking across the tablet surface. “I’ll know the instant that changes, if it changes.”

Rose pales in horror at the sound of the next gut-wrenching shout. “Oh my god,” she says, instantly alert, all traces of sleepiness evaporated in a millisecond. “The other Doctor—what’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing’s wrong, it’s all to be expected.” He swallows another mouthful of the tar in his mug and frowns in distaste. Dreadful stuff, coffee, but tea seems just a little too indulgent at the moment. “Time Lord memories in a human brain, remember? Or human enough, anyway.”

“Is he gonna have the same trouble as Donna?”

“No, no, nothing like that. Got enough of my original genetic material to keep all his grey matter from leaking out.” He drinks in a deep breath. “Now, the nightmares, on the other hand…”

He trails off, because Rose has got that look on her face, and maybe it’s been a few years (or a few centuries, feels about the same), but he still knows that look, still knows it exactly, the someone-is-hurting-and-I’ve-gotta-do-something-about-it look. Which is a problem, because if he knows himself like he thinks he does—and unfortunately, a millennia is more than enough time to get to know yourself, your few good qualities and many, many flaws alike—this will not end well, not for anyone.

“Rose,” the Doctor says warningly, but already she’s padding out of the gallery, her footfalls echoing softly in the corridor.

The Doctor swears under his breath. “Wait,” he says, louder, pushing up from the table so hard his chair slams to the tiles with a thwack. He sprints after her, but by the time he reaches the hall, Rose is already meters and meters off—she’s faster than he remembers somehow, or is that just one more way that she’s different from before?—and he shouts, “Just leave it alone, Rose. Trust me!”

Not the most brilliant choice of words at the end there, he thinks when she doesn’t stop.

***

Fire, fire everywhere and—

burning

(red-hot white-hot iron and copper and pennies, steel, metallic and cold-boiling in his mouth)

Skin, bonding in nano-increments, cells knitting together over bones grown solid and if he could, he would double over with the pain of it, the unbearable hurt of becoming real

“What are you whinging about?” Harriet Jones asks, arms crossed over a gaping black hole in her chest. “At least you got a new heart out of all this.”

(real isn’t how you are made, said the skin horse, it’s a thing that happens to you)

I’m sorry, he says, or tries to say, but he hasn’t got a tongue yet, just rows and rows of razor-sharp teeth tearing the insides of newborn cheeks

Laughter, and when he looks up again, past the blood-red haze clouding his fetal eyes, the Harriet-thing is grinning, skin stretched too-tight over a Halloween-store-parody of a skull. “Absolutely the same man,” she says, words dripping with disgust

and the faintest hint of something ruby-red—

“I never asked for it,” he spits out as soon as words can take form in his mouth. “I can’t count you amongst my many sins.”

Curling in on himself, a ribbon that twists and cramps and contracts, muscles rippling under the skin; raw fingers scratch themselves bloody and reach stretch break into the

(does it hurt? asked the rabbit)

(she opens her maw and entire galaxies float inside, suspended in midnight-black ink, rainbow-swirling like an oil slick)

“No, no,” he begs (wheezes; throat is parched and cracked and dry; xtonic radiation is a cruel and cowardly bitch)

(Please Susan please please please help)

“What do you expect her to do?” asks Rose, circling a protective arm around his granddaughter (what’s left of her, anyway, blurred and wet and staining Rose’s shirt). “She’s just as dead as the rest of them.”

Tear ducts form just in time for salt to well up in his eyes, burning his cheeks, holy water scorching clean in blistering trenches

(galaxies dissolve one-by-one and he can hear feel smell taste every one of them dying, rotting-sweet dead flowers dirty crumpled five-pound notes ash in his mouth)

Hand new and complete and he reaches out but Donna is there instead, and he watches, helpless, as she falls in agonizing slow-motion; it would almost be funny except wait it is funny he is laughing he is laughing he is laughing so hard he cries why can’t he stop

crawls over to her prone body, crumpled on the grating, dying over scattered galaxy crumbs and sputtering embers and he turns her onto her back, and something black is where her eyes should be, overflowing and staining fire-red hair

“I didn’t mean to,” he chokes out, but she can’t hear, the black stuff swells up in her nose and her mouth and her ears and it burns everywhere it touches, eating away at her skin and her hair and her cut-up leather jacket (and oh, the fit she would throw if she knew)

(it doesn’t happen all at once, said the skin horse, you become. it takes a long time)

(Doctor, she says, and her voice sounds funny and far-away)

“No, no, not that,” he pleads. “Anything else—”

She turns what’s left of her skeleton-face toward him and she screams

“Doctor!”

Air sharp in his lungs like a knife and the Doctor can’t get enough of it, gulping and choking until he thinks it might gash his throat.

“Shhh, you’re okay, you’re okay, it’s just a nightmare, it isn’t real—”

Hands on his chest, smaller than his but familiar, but they’re gone, she’s gone, all of her, and she’s never—

Frantic knocking against his ribs and he wonders if he’s ever been in a place so dark before, ever witnessed anything that ate the light like this. One of his hands slides beneath those on his chest, checking, and—yes, there it is. One heart, just the one. Damn.

“Doctor?” says the voice again, quieter this time. “Are you awake? Are you all right?”

Oh, god.

Impressions of the nightmare slowly fade, blinked away like the remnants of too-bright lights splashed across the backs of his eyelids, and the darkness in his room dissolves bit by aching bit. He can just make out the shape of someone else in his bed, silhouetted by the dim light leaking beneath his bedroom door. Too murky to make out any details, but she’s haunted his subconscious long enough that he would know her anywhere, unmistakable in any form.

“Rose?” rasps the Doctor, his voice rough from shouting (crying?).

“Yeah,” she says, fingers curling in his tee-shirt. “I’m here, with you. Remember? And everything’s gonna be…”

The Doctor doesn’t hear what she says next—blood rushes in his ears, pins-and-needles and a high-pitched whine and a thick thump-thump-thumping; cold sweat beads on his brow, and he fights the nausea threatening to wash over him. Forcing his breathing to slow, he pushes up in the bed. He can feel her staring at him, feel her concern. Relief and embarrassment rise up in equal measure, searing-hot fluid in a thin-skinned blister.

“Please get out,” he pants.

Her hands stall on his chest. “Doctor?”

“Please,” he says, brokenly, knuckles scraping the tears from his cheeks. He curses himself for ever letting anyone see him like this, for ever allowing himself to be so shamefully pathetic. “You never should have—I don’t need you here. Get out.”

The Doctor can practically hear Rose’s heart hardening at that.

Her next breath is tremulous, watery. “Fine.”

The bed jostles with the force of her movement, bedclothes twisting as she crawls over them and gropes semi-blindly for the edge of the mattress, and the Doctor realizes she actually listened to him this time. Really, properly listened—and she’s really, properly going. Now the panic rushes in, and the guilt, settling heavily at the pit of his stomach. Please no please don’t go please don’t leave please…

“Wait,” he calls hoarsely after her, but her feet have already reached the floor. “Rose—”

“No, it’s fine. I’ve got it. Tell a girl Get out enough times, eventually it gets through her thick skull.”

He springs out of bed just in time to grab her hand before it can twist the doorknob. “Rose, stop. Please.”

“Why? Planning to call up any other regenerations to come spit in my face?” she snaps, her back turned to him. “How about my first Doctor, the one who died on the Gamestation? Want to bring him on over so he can have a go at me, too?”

Her shoulders are tense, hard as flint as the Doctor places his hands on them, gently nudging her until she turns around to face him. Her entire body quakes beneath his touch and he suspects that, just like him, her shivering has got nothing to do with the temperature in the room.

“I fought so hard,” she says plaintively, and the Doctor doesn’t need to see or touch her face to know she’s crying now. He can hear the tears thick in her voice, feel the sobs wracking her frame. “It’s been years, Doctor, and I tried—I thought about trying, settling into a life over there, and I could’ve, there were times I wanted to, I had friends and my family and a good job and there were blokes and a girl and I could’ve—but I couldn’t—not after all the things I did, and if you ever knew—and I just missed you so much, god, I missed you, and I thought—if I tried hard enough—”

Laughing through her tears, Rose shivers even more violently. “God, I’m stupid.”

“Not true,” says the Doctor firmly.

“I am, though,” she says with a sniffle. “I don’t know what else I expected. I mean, it’s not like I thought I’d come back and you’d scoop me up in your arms, or, I don’t know, profess your eternal love for me, or whatever. I just thought, I hoped we could pick up where we’d left off, just the two of us, and Donna too if she wanted, back out in the stars, and I thought, maybe, one day, if I was really, really lucky, maybe you would—”

He cuts her off with a kiss.

She stiffens against him, body going rigid under his hands, and he knows he’s being rude, or unfair, or possibly terribly unchivalrous; definitely something Donna would smack him for, and he wouldn’t blame her. And it’s messy, salty, wet, her tears viscous and sticky on Rose’s cheeks and her lips and now on his as well. But it’s warm, too, in a way that makes him dizzy, his chest expanding, his blood thrilling in his veins. And hopefully Rose can find it in herself to forgive him, because right now he just doesn’t have the words. He can only hope, desperately, that his actions will speak loudly enough in their stead.

(And he would be lying if he said he hadn’t been thinking about this since these eyes first saw her.)

Eventually Rose relaxes in his grip, pulling back with a soft gasp. “You don’t have to do that,” she mumbles.

“Do what?”

She thumbs the tears off her face. “Give me anything out of guilt. Just because you think I want it.”

He nods. “All right.”

He kisses her again.

A strained little whimper rises in Rose’s throat and she snakes her arms around his neck and before he knows it, his arms are responding in kind, wrapping around her and pulling her body flush with his. She’s still shaking but it’s more of a buzz now, something he can sense in his skin, creeping into his skull like a rush of alcohol. His body floods with warmth as her tongue tentatively brushes his lower lip and a flash-vision pops into his mind, detailing how he could push her up against the door—

Suddenly he’s gone a bit jellylike in the knees and the Doctor breaks the kiss with a shudder. The room feels like it’s spinning around him.

(He’s relieved to hear he’s not the only one struggling to hide breaths gone ragged.)

“You…” Rose says, and swallows. “That’s cheating.”

“Never said I’d play fair,” the Doctor replies, step-stumbling back until his legs hit the bed. He sits down, grateful for the support.

Rose doesn’t budge from the door, so the Doctor holds out a hand—can she see it in the almost-black, can she tell he’s reaching out for her?—and after a few horrible moments of nothing, her warm little palm slides along his. She lets him draw her in, and he has every intention of wrapping his arms around her again, comforting them both with a solid, lung-squeezing hug, so he’s surprised when her hands reach out and cup his jaw, tilting his face upward. He wonders if, perhaps, her night-vision is better than his now, if she can see the nervousness and hope written across his features, but soon it’s apparent she’s seeing with her hands; her thumbs stroke the apples of his cheeks, tracing the edges of his sideburns and working up to his temples. His eyes flutter shut at her touch and he fights not to lean into it, like a cat. Fingers tangle in his hair and nails scratch lightly against his scalp and he can’t stop the hum that escapes in response.

He pulls her down for another kiss and he doesn’t mean it to be such a needy thing, so desperate and harsh and hungry, but the way her lips part almost immediately makes him suspect she’s every bit as starved as he is. She deepens the kiss and his tongue chases after hers. Dizzy with want, he clutches at her hips, he’s just got to touch her somewhere, anywhere she’ll let him, he needs to feel her, soft and solid and safe, but she’s still so far away, still oceans and oceans between them—

The Doctor doesn’t even try to hold back a sigh of relief when Rose clambers into his lap, pressing herself against him. The weight of her is warm and reassuring, the frantic pit-pat-patter of her heart against his a welcome rhythm.

“I don’t play fair either,” says Rose, and she kisses him fiercely before he has a chance to reply.

Afterward, she slumps against him, panting. Eyes shuttering closed, he wraps his arms around her, losing himself in the gentle rise and fall of their chests as their breaths slowly calm. But eventually Rose stirs in his arms, sitting back on his lap; the Doctor imagines if he could see her face in better detail right now, her eyes would be glazed, blinking heavily. He suspects his are doing much the same.

He feels like he should say something, but his breathing is too thick to allow any words out of his mouth. At least, that’s what he tells himself; the truth is, he’s still too stunned by the idea of Rose sitting in his lap to really register anything that’s happening right now, or anything that’s happened in the last few minutes, for that matter. A not-unpleasant buzzing sound has filled his head, pairing nicely with the numb feeling suffusing him below the waist, and it’s just a bit difficult to think past it all.

Rose wriggles off his lap, both of them wincing, and she walks off toward his en suite, fumbling for the light-switch in the dark. Soon she finds it (impressive, considering she’s never been in here before) and searing yellow-white light lances the Doctor’s vision, blinding him with its brightness. Moments later, the Doctor is surprised by the sensation of something soft hitting him in the face. He blinks out the light, confused, pulling a flannel from where it fell in his lap.

“Figured you might want to clean up,” Rose says from the doorway to the en suite. She’s not wrong, and oddly considerate—but something about her sudden frankness and neutral tone sets panic thrumming in the Doctor’s system all over again.

She’s not just going to up and leave after all that, right? Surely she wouldn’t?

The door to the en suite closes, leaving the Doctor alone in the darkness once again, frozen. Slowly, amidst the sounds of flushing and washing-up, he tidies up. The fresh, clean flannel is a blessing on his skin, but it isn’t enough to soothe the anxiety roiling in his skull, especially when the light turns back off and Rose comes out and, quietly, heads straight for the bedroom door. The Doctor wants to ask her to stay, but the words seem wrong, somehow, almost childish, and at any rate, they’re stuck in his throat.

Hand on the doorknob, Rose hesitates. “Did I push you?” she asks, her voice small.

“No,” he answers quickly, thankful that his tongue finally works again. “No, not at all.”

She sighs in relief. “And you, erm. Would you rather I left you al—”

“No.”

Another sigh. “Good.”

The mattress dips beneath her weight as Rose crawls back into the bed, and, his weary brain just a bit slow on the uptake, the Doctor follows after, sure to leave a respectable amount of space between them, just in case Rose wants it. But he soon learns he needn’t have worried; the second his head hits the pillow, Rose snuggles up against him, tucking her head beneath his chin and insinuating one leg between his. Surprised, but nonetheless pleased, the Doctor pulls her into his embrace, wondering how in the universe he managed to be the lucky sod she’s curled up against tonight.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” Rose mutters sleepily into his chest.

The Doctor startles out of his thoughts. “Hm?”

“What happened to Donna. It’s not your fault.”

It’s stupid, really, how quickly the tears spring up behind his eyes. He grits his teeth until the pressure fades, his fists clenching tightly in Rose’s tee-shirt. He has half a mind to untangle himself from her, to get up out of the bed and throw open the doors of the TARDIS and scream at the universe until his voice grows hoarse and his throat bloody, but the other half of his mind gently points out how Rose’s breathing has already evened out, how relaxed her entire body is next to his, how warm and soft she is in his arms. How she’s here, with him, now, despite everything.

With a tired exhale, he nuzzles into Rose’s hair. Fruity shampoo, expensive perfume, the faintest tinge of chemicals from her hair dye all greet him; marveling at how natural it all feels, the two of them close and quiet like this, he breathes it in, committing it to memory, just in case. He closes his eyes and, inch by inch, lets himself loosen.

She’s wrong about Donna, of course. But it was still nice of her to say.

***

Previous: Chapter Three | Next: Chapter Five

#timepetalsprompts #doctorroseprompts #ficandchips #tentoorose #tenrose #travelingrose #goingtothetardis #so for anyone who is concerned and doesn't mind mild and vague spoilers #i swear the tenrose stuff is coming on down the line #definitely some angsty setup to get through first but there will be payoff #rose loves all of the doctor and he loves her with everything he has #even if things are complicated between them right now #and even if there are two of him #lolol #but i wanted the story to be about choice--for everyone involved--and i wanted to show the events leading up to those choices #i promise this isn't going the route of 'ooh ten's such a meanie no wonder rose will choose tentoo'#everyone just needs time to adjust and ten in particular needs to pull his head out of his arse #also #like wow i just got so eager to start posting this that i did not plan things super well #apparently i repeated chapter titles?#so that's been fixed #and also i had a thought that i would split this up into two parts #it seemed to make sense at the time #but now i'm like #why?#so anyhoo thank you for your patience to everyone who's sticking with me and my weird edits and odd decisions and terrible update schedule #i love you all passionately!#<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 #mbb fic

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actuallylorelaigilmore · 6 years

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I sent this on mobile so sorry if it's a duplicate, but I haven't seen it yet so I think it might not've gone through. Drabble request: TWW, post-series, domesticity preferably with kids, but also some career stuff, ship/character pairing of your choice

Okay, this is so not a drabble :) but it was fun to write! Borrows from these headcanons I accidentally created that one time.

1,500 words of Josh/Donna fluff, with an appearance from Zoey Bartlet and references to several other characters. Also on AO3.

He’d learned long ago to pick his battles, though, with two little girls who had inherited their mother’s fighting spirit. When their favorite bedtime story became “the time Mommy blew up” he knew he was in for trouble.

Fighting with his tie as he came downstairs, Josh found his daughters sprawled on the couch.

“Remember, Zoey’s coming over to babysit today.”

“Yes!” Jo high-fived her little sister, beaming at Josh. “She promised next time she was gonna teach us how to flip a grown man over our shoulder.”

He paused on his way into the kitchen, turning slowly to face them. “Seriously? That’s not just a funny joke you guys are practicing to scare your mom with?”

“Dad.” Charlotte rolled her eyes at his lameness. “It’s totally safe. She learned it from her bodyguards.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” He’d learned long ago to pick his battles, though, with two little girls who had inherited their mother’s fighting spirit. When their favorite bedtime story became “the time Mommy blew up” he knew he was in for trouble.

Or maybe he’d already figured that out, the moment Brianna Joan first blinked up at him with her pale eyelashes and deep brown eyes. A world of trouble–realizing that he was a father now, that nothing would ever be the same.

“Mom,” Jo yelled, making him wince at the assault on his eardrums. She had her mother’s lungs. “You want us to be able to kick butt, right?”

Donna stood in the kitchen doorway, half-dressed for her morning meetings but still in her pajama shirt while she cooked. “I feel like that’s a trick question,” she answered, regarding the three of them. “Come eat your waffles, girls.”

“What about me? Don’t I get waffles?”

“That depends,” she replied. “Are you going to be able to make our lunch date today?”

“Come on, it’s not like I make a habit of missing–”

“The last three, Joshua,” she argued, cutting him off. “You had to reschedule the last three.”

He held up his hands in defense. “I know, I know. I’m sorry! I would’ve much rather met you for lunch than gotten stuck with lawyers from K Street.”

“Yeah, well, CJ and I are meeting with senators today and the Belgian ambassador. If I can make lunch, so can you.”

He crossed to the doorway and kissed her. “I’ll be there.”

“Good. Then you get waffles.” She grinned at him when he leaned in for another kiss, and there was a chorus of booing from the kitchen table.

“Some of us are trying to eat,” Charlotte said.

“Anyway,” he told Donna, taking his seat and ignoring the peanut gallery, “I have a light day. Toby’s coming in, so I cleared most of my morning.”

“Well, that’s something, then. He won’t let you stand me up.” Donna brought over the last of the waffles and finally dug into her own breakfast. “What’s he up to?”

“He’s bringing Huck by.”

“Because fifteen-year-olds are really into campaign finance reform these days?”

Josh laughed. “No…apparently he told Andy that he’s aiming to go to Harvard. Toby wants me to talk him out of it.”

“Is Molly coming too?” Jo asked between bites. Toby’s daughter was the softball-playing, video-game-killing hero of their twelve-year old tomboy. While Charlie was artistic, with her mom’s dancer form, their eldest wouldn’t be caught dead in a tutu or at the piano.

“Sorry, kiddo, just her brother.”

No longer interested, Jo dropped her silverware onto her plate with a clatter. “Done. Thanks for breakfast, Mom.”

Donna swallowed and nodded. “Dishes in the sink, Jo.”

She was out and up the stairs before her sister had the chance to finish her own meal. Charlotte habitually moved at her own pace, daydreaming over her butter-drenched waffles as her parents talked around her.

“Which senators are you and CJ talking to today?”

“Texas and Arizona.”

“Fun…and Belgium?”

“Clean energy.”

“Right. How’s that going?”

She dipped the last of her waffle in syrup, keeping one eye on the clock. “About as well as can be expected. Looking at European models has been helpful, but it’s not like that gains us much traction in the South.”

“Well, I’m not sure anything would,” Josh pointed out. “They’ve dug their heels in pretty good against climate change.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

“Daddy?” Charlotte interjected. “Can I come with you to work?”

Donna raised her eyebrows at Josh, as surprised as he looked.

“Don’t you want to stay here and play with Zoey?”

“Not today…at school, they said Take Your Daughter to Work Day is next week.”

“Oh.” He stared blankly at Donna. Wasn’t that one of those made-up holidays, like the kind the President proclaimed that he used to mock? “Are you sure…I mean, wouldn’t you have more fun going with your mom?”

She beamed at Donna, all careless sweetness and light. “Nope. I wanna go with you. Can I?”

“Sure you can,” her mom answered. “Can’t she?”

Trapped, Josh tried not to panic at the idea of keeping his dreamy-eyed daughter entertained for an entire day full of politics. “Of course. Sounds great, honey.”

“Charlie, you’ve got ten more minutes until Zoey gets here,” Donna pointed out, now that that was settled. “If you don’t get going, Jo will have a head start at learning how to knock people unconscious.”

“Oh!” Rushing through her second waffle, their blue-eyed sprite leapt out of her chair. Charlotte’s pale ringlets bounced behind her as she ran back to the living room, forgetting to soak her dishes or properly be excused.

Donna sighed, and Josh smiled at her. Maybe manners were a work-in-progress, but just look at the beautiful little people they were raising.

“You know what this means, don’t you?”

She blinked. “What?”

“You’re gonna have to take Jo.”

“Good,” she replied, pointing her fork at him. “She’ll have a lot more fun with me than doing whatever Charlotte gets stuck with at your office.”

“Hey! My office is nonstop fun. Just last week, the President sent balloons to surprise Bram on his birthday.”

“Wow, balloons. I stand corrected.”

“I’m just saying, I can give our budding Warhol a painting app to play with and she’ll sit in a corner all day. Meanwhile, you’ll have a tiny lightning bolt on your hands while you talk to the Attorney General.”

“And I’m sure she’ll enjoy our daughter’s energy.”

“There’s about a fifty percent chance our daughter’s energy will end up setting something on fire.”

Donna took her plate to the sink. “She gets that from you.”

He grinned. “Yeah, I know.”

The door buzzed, and Donna went to answer it. Josh cleared the rest of the table while he listed to the clatter of feet racing back downstairs, and the commotion of the girls greeting their favorite sitter.

“You’ll teach us the flip, right, Zoey?”

“I drew you a horse! Come see.”

Donna’s laugh carried to where he stood. “Girls, let her breathe.”

Dishes soaking, he joined them in the living room. “Hey, Zoey. What’s on today’s agenda?”

“Oh, you know. Running with scissors, ice cream for lunch…the usual.”

“Right.” He smirked at President Bartlet’s youngest, now a rising star at the NGO his wife was running with CJ. “Well, just try to keep them in one piece, would you? They’ve got delusions of badass.”

“No delusions here,” she argued, tossing her hair back. “They are badass.”

“That, they get from me,” Donna told him, grinning. “Thanks for this,” she added in Zoey’s direction. “I’ll buy you lunch tomorrow after the conference.”

“No worries. You know I love your baby feminists.” Zoey wrapped an arm around Charlotte when the girl sidled up to her. “We’ll have a blast. Go focus on your world leaders–and tell CJ I’ll be in early tomorrow, ‘kay?”

“Will do.” Donna turned toward Josh as the girls led Zoey upstairs. “Josh, your tie is a mess.”

“I wasn’t fully awake yet,” he protested, holding still as she leaned in to fix it.

“Yes, but you’ve been wearing a tie for decades,” she pointed out. “Shouldn’t you have the hang of it by now?”

“Why would I bother?” He asked with a smile. “If I could fix my own tie, you might stop doing it for me.” Josh took her hands in his and kissed the fingers that had successfully tidied it up.

“I’ve gotta head out,” he said reluctantly, catching a look at the clock behind her. “See you at lunch, Donnatella.”

“You better.” Her lips meeting his in farewell lingered just a little longer than necessary.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there. Really. After all, I got waffles.”

“Make it on time,” Donna told him with a sly grin, “and you’ll get something even better tonight.”

His eyes widened. “I’ll be early,” Josh promised, kissing her again before he left.

She headed upstairs to finish getting ready, humming happily to herself. There was still only one way to render Josh Lyman speechless, and it was her favorite thing in the world.

When he got a good look at the teddy and garters she’d picked up over the weekend, he was going to forget his own name.

Then he would make her forget hers.

#i know i said i'd post this tomorrow but it's technically tomorrow and when i tried to sleep all i could do was cough so here :)#other characters will get their own OC kids and career details in future #it's super fun to play with future fic i must say #tww #josh x donna #the west wing #tww fic #josh x donna fanfic #josh x donna fic #tww fanfic #tww fanfiction #the west wing fanfic #the west wing fanfiction #my fic

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