#ch: mickey smith

[stilemawillow]

MTIJ | Ch.30 City of Dumbassery, Here I Come

|mtij masterlist|

pairing: levi ackerman x reader

word count: 13k

summary: a girl with a variety of hidden complexes has to live with a french asshole for nine months. easy? on the surface. problematic? definitely. romantic? not too much, or at least they’d make it a point to say so everytime when asked. the end? please, their dynamic isn’t as simple as that.

warnings: nsfw content; mentions of nudity; virginity loss; oral sex (f! receiving); protected sex; explicit sexual content; reader discretion advised

A hundred-dollar question: where do people go to blow off steam when their interns weren’t back back from their vacation yet? First and foremost, never City of Dumbassery as it’s not a place for relaxation. I might’ve been its main population these days, but I fancied myself a rational person capable of making the right choices when needed. Pretend you’re not looking at my romantic history. The right choice, however, wasn’t always right in the heat of the moment, only in perspective, so we begin this scene with me, seated on Erwin Smith’s couch with Hanji Zoe and a cup of coffee.

For more information on the right-est choice I made as of late, keep watching. Or as asshole-me insists on promoting: Come see the prequel to the biggest fuck-up of this girl’s life. I, though oblivious to its imminent eventuation at the point where we start, had a vague notion of what I wanted the next few days to look like. Let’s just say, humourlessly enough, that my wildest dreams came nowhere close to the reality that would take place.

“I’m sorry about last time, (Y/N). I didn’t know about you and Eren.” Hanji’s contrite apology made my smile widen as I lifted the cup of coffee to my lips. Dismissing the fact she brought the topic right back with the intention to make amends, Hanji was a good person and clearly sincere in her ways of regarding me. Kindness was one thing, but this woman’s pure cordiality was admirable.

“It’s not a problem. I could tell it wasn’t your intention to hurt me.” The corner of my mouth twitched in self-reproach at the manipulative bullshit I let slip. Instantly, I corrected: “Not that I was hurt.” If it’d been Annie, she wouldn’t straight-up laughed. Had it been Levi, he would’ve stared at me like I was dumb for thinking him dumb enough to buy it. But this was Hanji and she just smiled reassuringly.

“You can share if you want to. That’s what I’m here for with all my friends,” she offered. It sounded tempting but I couldn’t allow myself that kind of openness yet. Annie was, as always, the only person who knew the full story in all its repulsive glory but if I wanted to preserve (Levi’s privacy) my reputation, I couldn’t tell the whole thing here. The whole thing – look at me dodging the serious parts in an attempt to make myself feel better. I couldn’t tell Hanji about my intoxicated attempt to sleep with her friend, who gave dubious if any consent. Sounded appropriately disgusting like this.

“Mike and Erwin seem like they lead pretty decent lives, though.” Redirecting the topic, ignoring everything weird, dismissing all as a dirty scheme meant to humiliate me – a methodical step-by-step guide on how to be a paranoid bitch. It would’ve been my equivalent of the Bible if I weren’t an atheist. Even if I regularly used OMG, if I had to pick a fictional character to believe was real, at least I’d pick one from a book with a legit author – something by King, Thackeray, Hemingway, Tolkien, Orwell or Hawthorne. Following that train of thought, I might as well start worshipping Mickey Mouse – it’d do me more good than the big guy with the beard who loves me but would make me suffer for all eternity for stepping out of line once. I did it a lot.

“It wasn’t always like that. Not to mention Levi was stuck in the gutter a month back.” Hanji’s words snapped me out of my daze. “I know I told you to wait for him, but I don’t trust him, so make sure you keep this conversation a secret,” she warned while leaning forward as if afraid the walls would hear. The suspense, though exaggerated and a bit comical, made me put down my coffee. “So, you know how Petra is mentioned here and there?” I nodded. “She was Levi’s fiancé. She died in a car crash last October.” I knew I should’ve reacted appropriately but I couldn’t force it quickly enough. Hanji noticed. “You don’t look shocked.”

“No, but I am surprised. A lot of things make sense now. I’m sorry for your loss.” I hastened to make a recovery to lessen the doubt along the planes of her face. A pang tugged on my heart. When I considered the alternate reality where Petra hadn’t died, the notion of Levi not arriving for his internship was incomprehensible. He’d be studying hard at home and married. No rings, no chaos, no cheating for me – yes, good, but no company around the house either, no distraction and no comfort.

“You haven’t done anything to apologise for it,” Hanji said. “Anyways. Shorty was in a really bad place the months after. Working himself to the bone, no sleep, no food, no nothing. He just had to be doing something. The one good thing that came out of it was his weekly visits to his mother.” A small pause, a moment of consideration for her and an odd feeling of fascination for me. I was soaking it up like a sponge because I was seeing, at last, his angle. “Maybe it hit him that if death came for Petra, it could come for Kuchel, too. I can’t know for sure. All I know is he exhausted himself to the point he collapsed. Unconscious for three whole days. Isabel told him he’d gotten the internship when he woke up.”

“So he used it as an escape,” I finished. It was a logical conclusion. Hanji nodded. Avoiding pain wasn’t the way but he’d been desperate to get away and the internship had been the perfect opportunity. He’d grabbed his bags, boarded the plane and then… well, had to deal with me. Not a warm welcome by any means. He hadn’t even had the energy to get angry or look like he felt anything. I hadn’t known, hadn’t cared enough to see. It made me uncomfortable to realise it.

“Flew over a whole ocean and kept working,” Hanji proceeded. “He wanted something to distract himself with. When he ran out of work because he did overtime, he started calling home more often. Vague details were all he gave, but I got the feeling he had something else to work on.” Hanji’s words made a lopsided smile kiss my lips. He’d wanted to busy himself with my well-being, but I’d taken it the wrong way, as I often did. Nowadays the matter was often used against him but never by him – wasn’t that funny?

“Becoming the spoiled brat’s babysitter,” I filled in kindly, but Hanji’s disapproving frown meant to reproach along with the eloquent gesture of her crossing her arms. I didn’t regret the way I worded it. Eren, Annie, Mikasa and my mother had often tried to make me rethink my ways, but results were yet to manifest. This story, with me as the shitty protagonist most likely to be insufferable contrary to sympathy-inducing, portrayed reality as I saw it – and reality often neglected character development.

“He never called you either, but he did mention taking care of you had the same effect as working, if not better. I felt he might find himself a friend, so I supported him. I think I made the right choice. You have a lot in common,” Hanji declared. It struck a cord – did we really? Our arguments were fire lashing out at ice – not something that happened with people got along. Levi was hard to anger whereas I had a short fuse – everything was a personal insult. No easier target than a conceited paranoid.

“On the topic of that,” I piped. “How do you forget somebody?” The question was light-hearted. I decided to dismiss the whole story so I could ponder it later. Hanji’s brows furrowed as she smiled sympathetically. She couldn’t imagine the situation well enough. The question was I over Eren? had kept at a safe distance from my mind during my birthday vacation and the beginning of August only to assault it now with pitiless ire.

Things kept coming back when I least needed them. Thoughts of the twinkle in his teal eyes or the crooked smile he always wore before a kiss, the sound of his voice – the softness he’d told me he loved me with the first time, the haunting quiver in it when we were breaking up. I woke up at night with the howl of planes taking off and landing. On some mornings, I woke up, hoping to hear a knock at the door and see his face. Would he be more tan? Would his eyes be the same? Would his hair be styled differently? Would he have grown taller?

But, (Y/N), a voice would say in my head, people don’t grow taller just like that, it’s physically impossible.

Eren can, I’d argue, because Eren is my boyfriend and he can do anything if he puts his mind to it.

But Eren wasn’t my boyfriend and he wasn’t a miracle-maker. I’d sit in bed and argue with myself that Eren would come back, that I wanted the best for him and that wasn’t me, that we were done, but that he’d still come back. He never did. A small desperate part of me still hoped for the door to open – any door. Erwin Smith’s apartment’s front door right now, even. I could almost hear his footsteps going up the stairs. I swore I could. I turned to Hanji, a naïve question – can’t you? – flickering in my orbs. She didn’t catch it.

“I’m not an expert,” she said instead. “But Levi can be of help. His coping mechanisms aren’t the best example to follow, but he has a good head on his shoulders. He just doesn’t listen to it.” She might’ve thought, with how desperate I looked, that I might cry. She didn’t know pride would rather have me rip out of my tear ducts before that happened. I didn’t cry often or in many people’s presence. That wasn’t to say I didn’t like Hanji. But Annie and, unfortunately, Levi were the exceptions here. The latter was a mystery, probably my attempt to play a damsel in distress to ask for attention. Attention and help and fucking, might as well – a kiss. Couldn’t he just kiss me sometimes without me having to be in the middle of a mood?

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t copy those coping mechanisms even if I wanted to. Work, sex and alcohol are never a good mix.” I let out an awkward string of laughter, weirded out by my abrupt disconnection from the conversation and how it turned my thoughts against me. I didn’t miss him that much. Also, he was coming home tomorrow. I had nothing to play the desperate whore for. There was the blondie. That wasn’t jealousy, though. I’d say it was my wish to prove myself better.

“Sex?” Hanji echoed with a conflicted expression.

“Sex with my father’s secretary. I think it was around May. He stormed out after calling her and came back drunk in the middle of the night,” I explained. The brown-haired woman took a second to process the story, then burst out in incredulous laughter. My brows twitched. “What’s so funny?” Was it something else or was I just weird for not thinking my father’s intern and secretary fucking the joke of the century?

“I remember him telling me about that,” she started, voice hinting at a new bout of cackling. “He went to her place for paperwork and she had her boyfriend over. They kept offering him drinks and he agreed to shut them up. Crossed the line at some point. He even got lost on his way back to the house.” I wanted to face-palm using the table and, hopefully, get myself into a coma. Was there a person on this Earth denser than me or was I a phenomenal idiot?

“Oh, God,” I muttered in a wheeze. “I’m so stupid.” Embarrassment and shame painted the tips of my ears bright crimson as I clenched my fists. Hanji patted my shoulder.

“You’re not stupid. I would’ve thought the same if I had no context. Levi would never just have a one-night stand, though. Not the type of person for it. He claims it’s the wrongest way to get over something.” Her brown eyes, previously fixed on me, were now directed at the coffee table. “Might work for you, but he most certainly hates it.” A snort was drawn from her lips as she withdrew her hand from my shoulder. I tried not to think about it, but it was inevitable. Hitch’s party, him refusing, refusing, refusing, because it would be “just like that” and “just like that” was a solution for neither of us.

“I’ll consider it,” I joked. “I was busy up until recently, but maybe university won’t be enough to distract me.” I smiled as Hanji chuckled, patting my back.

“Another boyfriend should do the trick in that case,” she said.

But I don’t want another boyfriend, I wanted to counter. I want your grumpy short friend. The thought froze me up. Asshole-me joined Hanji’s hearty chuckle. Bold of me to think it. Terrible of me to think it. Wrong of me to think it. It was complicated. If romance was not involved here, it was undeniable at this point. I could almost feel it written in capital letters on my forehead.

ATTRACTED TO LEVI ACKERMAN. VERY.

“I’m not ready for the commitment.” Was the only comment to exit my mouth due to the sudden discomfort nestling in the crevice of my ribcage. “I think,” I added awkwardly, reluctant regarding a relationship but very opinionated on the topic of engaging my father’s intern in something inappropriate that would make our relations twice as complicated as they were.

“A friend with benefits then?” Hanji’s mind-reading abilities amazed. I realised it suddenly – that it was natural, this attraction of mine, no matter how humiliating and inconvenient. It wasn’t weird and maybe it wasn’t all that wrong. It was a guy who was three years older than me who lived with me that I considered unreachable. The forbidden fruit, so to say. He was handsome, mysterious and had abs. Natural to be attracted to that. Natural to be attracted to it when I saw it every day and it saw me every day and most times it treated me with passive kindness. So there’d be no harm, I assumed, in initiating something a smidge bigger. What was stopping me? I didn’t have a boyfriend, I wouldn’t feel guilty and I wasn’t insecure because, hey, he’d kissed me last time. Obviously, I wasn’t nasty.

“Update from a virgin to a slut then?” I smirked, a decision born. Hanji’s mouth clamped shut shamefully and I laughed. “I’m kidding, calm down. It was just a joke.” I patted her back. The ring on my finger was cool to the couch and soothing. My resolve, for once, was there. I had a goal. A simple one at that – nothing dangerous. Two words: kiss Levi. I would do it because there was nothing to stop me. I mean, what was the worst that could happen?

…

Imagine an elegant expensive kitchen armed with all kinds of top-quality appliances. Paradise for all little housewives who greet their husbands with a warm meal. I wasn’t that type and the fact I spent four hours cooking more food than a family of six could eat didn’t make me one either. Judging was futile because I took care of that myself during the whole process. Currently, the fruit of my effort sat in front of me – a full three-course meal with different forks to go with the high-class atmosphere. I was far from a successor of Gordon Ramsay, but I outdid myself this time. Why? Last-minute anxiety maybe. Or fear. I needed a distraction because the thought of Eren wouldn’t stop pestering me. Added to that was the fact my father could walk in without Levi. Asshole-me didn’t help.

Bet on the outcome now! A once-in-a-lifetime offer that provides an endless amount of entertainment for the whole family! Fifty bucks says a discount version of William will use the vanishing potion and fly back to France! The other side of the bet? Sorry, I don’t know her. With such a commentator, it was early to skip the food and go straight to consuming my fingernails. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. Place your bets right now, your bets need to go in the ballot box, quickly fill out the slips and put them in! Will he go or yes? And what’s the sweat for, princess? Don’t we like watching history repeat itself? I love it. So bet, bet, bet, bet! Come on, faster! If I had a penny for each time your father’s intern left you in the summer, I’d have two pennies. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s hilarious it happened twice!

The jingle of keys pulled the plug on asshole-me’s voice. I’d waited a whole hour now and my head snapped up so fast I heard my neck pop. The front door opened and my heart flinched when my father walked in, dressed in one of those hideous Hawaiian shirts they sold in souvenir shops and flaunting on his nose and cheekbones a really bad case of sunburn. He’d say the sun was harsh in Minnesota. I’d pretend not to hear because believing was impossible. He slipped out of his sandals and I clasped my hands together in excitement.

“Dad, finally! I was starting to think I’d have to reheat everything,” I said. He turned to face the fake exasperation masking the genuine joy I felt at his return. A doubtful smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and my eyes were frantically bouncing from him to the open door. Panic began to well up in my mind. Asshole-me was diligently digging a hole for it, to fit as much as possible.

“A pretty big feast you have there.” Rolland Raven took off the sunglasses he was wearing to eye the food a bit better. I cracked a smile I hoped wouldn’t seem constipated. My thought process was starting to lag due to overload when I heard a faint curse. Next thing, Levi’s pale figure, wearing a ridiculous straw hat. My heart dropped like a stone, plugged the pit of panic and made asshole-me yelp when it nearly crushed her fingers. I felt like stumbling back into my chair and never getting up.

“I guessed you might be hungry after the flight. You don’t have to eat all of it,” I said. It was then a pair of graphite hues shot up to my face. It felt like each muscle in it strained almost to the point of tearing. My father took a seat at the counter while the intern opted to drop off his luggage upstairs and change clothes. I stared after him a second too long while he was climbing the stairs.

“You’ve never waited for me after a business trip before.” (E/c) clashed with (e/c) as my father began picking his food and digging in with more enthusiasm than I’d expected. Levi had mentioned the almightly Raven had complained about the poor quality on the trip compared to what he had at home, but it was still a compliment to witness it manifested.

“I usually have things to do when you’re on business trips, father. This summer I needed a source of entertainment.” I rolled my eyes, letting them scan the interior during the roundabout lie. Lucky enough, they caught the exact moment Levi was leaving his room, tugging down his shirt. A glimpse of fit abdominals. A vague tan line. The food on the counter became a tad bit less appetising.

“Don’t you have Eren Jaeger to help with that?” My father’s question made my attention snap back in place just in time for Levi not to catch me staring. He took a seat at the far end of the counter but I was too preoccupied with a small freak-out fit to dwell on it.

“About that,” I squeaked out with a constipated expression, prompting both men’s attention to turn from half-hearted to wholly undivided. Amazing. I couldn’t have done a better job at it if I’d begun yodelling out of the blue. “Eren broke up with me two months ago.” The key to not sounding like a squeaky toy was to not meet anybody’s gaze. My father was blinking like something had gotten in his eye and Levi’s jaw clenched at the discomfort he was subjected to.

“And I wasn’t notified of that because?” Rolland Raven, among many a quality, was a proud man who, in spite of his profession, could never act quite as predictably as I wished him to. This was no exception because I didn’t have time to open my mouth before he silenced me with a hand in the air. “No, forget I asked. I need to have a serious talk with him. Maybe make him pay back all the dates you’ve handled with interest. We can make a fortune.” The devious plan was voiced in his typical cold-blooded businessman manner. I waved my hands around in discomfort.

“Hold your horses, father. You’re not the one who got dumped. Eren ended the whole thing because he went to study in Germany,” I explained but it wouldn’t satisfy my father, who only glared while putting a fork-full of potatoes in his mouth. Levi tried to become fully invisible. I thought if things got too heated for him, he might make a dash for his room with the dish.

“Unreasonable as can be. If he loved you as much as he had the balls to claim in front of me, he could’ve thought of an alternative that didn’t include breaking your heart. Because of something as insignificant as distance, too.” My father leaned back in his chair with folded arms. He forgot all about food so he could glare at me.

“4898 miles to be exact,” I murmured pitifully. Both men shot me an incredulous look, to which I switched on defence mode. “I did my research. I wasn’t crying the whole time.” Subconsciously copying my father’s position, I reclined in my chair and crossed my arms, glaring like a child prior to giving a sigh and smiling weakly. “I gave it a lot of thought and he did the right thing. So can you be the one to tell mom later?” The last inquiry seemed to surprise him, maybe because it was expected of me to share more with my mother and thus already have her know the super secret information I was handing him.

“I’ll try not to cry as I do.” A nod and a similar weak smile. “You did well not to tell me immediately.” He returned to normal – calculating and sharp, looking for weaknesses and thinking in numbers. Levi’s lack of shock went unnoticed, which I was secretly thankful for. The raven was looking at me playing with the silver band around my finger to soothe my nerves.

“Because you would’ve gone to the airport to kick him to the curb like a good father?” I smirked, a pointed look aimed at the dark-haired businessman, who only snorted in return prior to redirecting his attention back to the food.

“… maybe.” A small pause betraying care, an awkward glance in his intern’s direction conveying mild panic as a result of his feelings showing and a fake clearing of the throat to show discomfiture. He changed the topic immediately. “Have I told you you’ve become a better cook than your mother?” (E/c) clashed with (e/c) and I knew he could see I was holding back laughter by the way the corner of his mouth twitched downwards in displeasure.

“You have now. Congratulations on successfully dodging the topic,” I announced with a complacent grin as he scoffed, ignoring the embarrassment so he could go back to eating. Levi’s gaze was relentless but, once having resolved the current minor conflict, I felt too ashamed to return it. I couldn’t be speaking of Eren, thinking of Levi and acting like a professional whore. It went against my moral code. I wished it was as stable as my pride. Somewhere in my head, asshole-me was drafting an advertisement for the future demise of both.

The following day was unexpectedly laid back in terms of emotions – the process of waking up and going to work was starting to become mechanical. I disliked that I was turning into a nine-to-five zombie, but Melinda’s cross remarks did nothing to hinder my placidity and Adam’s request for a date was, surprisingly, accepted with a pinch of reluctance. It was time for something new, I defended when asshole-me breached the topic of my change of heart. I couldn’t go a whole life without clashing with a man who wasn’t Eren. To forget him, I actually needed to accept that. Because knowing he wouldn’t come back and I didn’t want to get back together was different from realising I couldn’t stay in the comfort zone of being endlessly attached to him and using it as an excuse to never move on.

I felt a smile light up my face the moment I saw Levi in front of the TV with a cup of tea in his hand. Unfortunately, I couldn’t use him to move on – it was the conclusion I drew from the quiet happiness gripping my heart at the sight of him beckoning me over. Everything I’d done had been quite enough. I wouldn’t turn him into a tool as well. So I settled on the couch and we led a half-assed conversation about the movie playing until my parents barged in, beaming and formal. Going for a date at a restaurant – yeah, no, I knew where they were going after. I smiled as we sent them off, and then the ebony-haired intern began choosing the movie we’d be watching and I worked on the snacks downstairs.

Accepted a date, claimed you won’t use him and now you’re pondering the kiss you’ll initiate. You know you’re fucked in the head, correct? Asshole-me piped mockingly, making me huff. I knew I was fucked in the head because she was there. Also, kissing Levi and using Levi were two different things. Different for him how? It’s kissing. It wasn’t. It would be exploring this time – not thinking about being distracted but feeling it for what it was. Jesus, that’s such a weak excuse. I felt she might be face-palming. Seriously, what’s wrong with you? You spent so much time telling your best friend you don’t like him, then you miss Eren, then you “date” Adam, then you grab your friend-zoned intern and decide you’ll be kissing him again – after you established you’re fucking inferior to the blondie who’s clearly hitting on him or clearly intent on doing it too. Can you not follow the timeline?

“Princess, why does Natalie tell me you’ve filled out all the forms related to the company’s income during our vacation?” Levi lowered the phone from his ear. The call had ended a second ago and he was glaring at me doubtfully. I was busy watching the movie – hopefully, excuse enough for scarce to no eye contact. I opened the pack of Doritos I’d dug up from my secret stash in the garage and warily eyed the pale intern’s expression.

“Because the forms were in the office downstairs and I figured they’d get in the way of our movie marathon, asshole. I haven’t messed them up.” My scoff was promptly returned to sender as Levi shoved his phone back in his pocket and clicked his tongue in exasperation. Another three minutes passed before I spoke up: “By the way, I need advice.” The room was dimly lit and the raven’s sharp gaze was on my temple.

“Will you have it in mind when you get back on your bullshit?” The inquiry was flat and doubtful. I tried to nod but it came out looking like a cringe and a shrug. His lips pursed in exhaustion. “Spill,” he ordered coldly, making me pout.

“How do I forget Eren?” Squeaky was the best I could do after becoming tense again. Nervousness was gnawing at the feeble stem of courage I’d managed to grow and my hopes for this to go as smoothly as a chat about the weather were stuck in an elevator on the top floor of a skyscraper. Even overthinking was useless here.

“Easy,” he said. Again, there was that breach of grammar. “Find somebody new. Judging by how much you’re smiling these days, you might as well be done with that.” The suspicious mockery made me snort.

“Don’t you think I might be happy to have you and dad back home?” I asked pointedly.

“No,” he countered with a defiant click of his tongue. What he said next sounded like an extract from a Jorge Bucay book. Something about self-love maybe. “Before you get with Rivers, however, you have to accept that Jaeger is now your ex. He’s part of the past and the past doesn’t hold power over the future if you don’t let it.” I bit back laughter to not offend him.

“Such a poet you are,” I huffed half-heartedly. “And how do I stop loving him?” Seriousness stood perched on my right shoulder, but the Doritos between us kept decreasing and I felt the soothing coolness of the ring on my finger. Our gazes locked and I stared, just because I could, because he was back, because he acted normally. And why wouldn’t he? Our circumstances surely weren’t enough to alter his demeanour.

“You don’t. You never will and you should get used to it.” His answer cut deep and I realised it might’ve confused me but I was too captivated by his eyes to process it. He forced himself to explain: “We never stop loving somebody once we’ve fallen for them. We just fall harder for another person.” It was as romantic as it was businessman-like. A bit too… systematic somehow.

Line up, line up! Asshole-me encouraged. I imagined a big queue in front of an entrance door with a sign bearing my name above it. Number 12, pass through, but beware – number 10 wasn’t careful with his words and number 11 made no effort to change that! The asshole side of me clearly fancied the idea. For all waiting, the Eren Jaeger mural is on the left and the guy on the right is the one you’ll never be! Keep trying but keep this face in mind – Levi Ackerman is hiding in a lot of the corners you’ll visit! He’s an invaluable guest at this establishment! Oh! Is it time for the next one already? Hurry up, number 13! Don’t hold up the queue, who knows how much capacity we have left. And so on until the last victim had walked in. It made my nose scrunch up.

“Does that mean you still haven’t gotten over Petra?” I piped curiously, bright eyes observing closely the intern’s reaction. The movie was no longer as interesting. Everything I could focus on was the furrow between Levi’s brows and the flat unperturbed look in his eyes. He grabbed a Dorito from the pack. I moved my hand away just in time to avoid a clash.

“It means I haven’t fallen in love with the next in line,” he said, reinforcing the notion of a queue. “I’m used to the fact she’d dead. Filling out every report in the world won’t bring her back,” he paused briefly and gulped, “so I go on with my life.” The explanation was simple but relatively quiet, like he was trying to say the words while not exactly aiming to have me hear them. His gaze was staring at the screen ahead as I looked down, trying to come up with a good one-liner to put him out of his discomfort.

“I feel like we’re becoming pensive,” I started with a lopsided smirk, “so let me pull a Reverse Uno card on this mood by saying I’ve reached a milestone in my life.” Licking the Dorito dust off my fingers, I puffed out my chest proudly, making the intern put a hand to his mouth. Maybe he’d bitten back a smile behind it. “I won’t get fined for driving without supervision now. Not to mention, I can have sex.” Waving an index finger in front of his face, I didn’t react when he grabbed it without warning.

“I don’t see what stopped you before,” he stated nonchalantly. I shrugged, concluding I hadn’t exactly shared with him details about my childish vow.

“There was this really religious teacher at school when I was ten – she scarred all her classes by giving them unsolicited Sex Education lectures mixed with Bible verse. Got fired because children complained to their parents, but she did a good one on me before that,” I explained with a smile, yanking my finger from his hold. “Since sex was for sinners – both began with the letter s, she explained to us – and I didn’t want to be a sinner because it meant… well, a bad person, I told myself I’d have sex only after turning eighteen, regardless of the temptation. So I held out. Proud of myself for that.” My complacent smile made him snort. He might’ve glanced at my lips right after.

“I’m sure there’s been a lot of temptation for you, princess,” he drawled in a deep sarcastic voice, moving the empty bag of Doritos away before wiping his fingers with as I processed the retort. I sat still, pouting for a fraction of a second, when it hit me this was my chance. The signal was there – shining in bright green, if I wasn’t color-blind – and it was time for me to grasp the opportunity.

“More than you can imagine, asshole,” I said with a scoff, not parting my eyes from his profile to observe his reaction. We cast aside the fact he could’ve poked fun at me being the furthest thing from a believer, yet such a big aspect of my life had been altered by a religious teacher. The tip of his nose twitched when he snorted in dismissal, not daring to meet my eye all of a sudden.

“The mood has been brightened. What do we do now?” He turned to face me, curious but hesitant, and I felt a surge of courage at the sight of the indecisiveness dawdling about in his grey eyes. The blue specks were calling me – count us, (Y/N), count us – and I concluded this would be the one time I initiated anything between us. It was stressful and scary, but it was Levi, so want overpowered fear, resulting in something we’d have a hard time sorting out our feelings on.

“Watch the movie you so diligently picked for us maybe?” But actions contradicted words because I was leaning in and he could see it. For two whole seconds, there was no movement on his end. Panic was about to make me pull back, pin it to something else, anything else, when his hand lifted, slender fingers gently tucking my hair behind my ear. This was it. It would happen. I was exploring what it’d be like without the guilt of purposefully seeking distraction.

It was slow – the first kiss – his lips barely landing on top of mine so we could taste the water even when we knew it was lukewarm. The movie was like white noise – I could catch fragments of dialogue and the screen illuminated Levi’s profile the few times my lids fluttered open. His hold on the side of my face was gentle, granting permission for me to pull back at any point. I didn’t know what he was thinking. I knew I was barely thinking and it felt nice, for my head to be so blissfully empty. It was all sensations and when he dragged his tongue over my bottom lip, my mouth opened to allow access for further exploration. The kiss deepened and I tried to push closer into him.

“Get on top,” he muttered into my mouth. His right hand dipped to grab my leg. I might’ve flushed bright red, but I still complied, slowly straddling him and letting his hands guide me to where he found it most comfortable. I was terribly aware of what I sat on. It might’ve been terribly aware of me, too.

It was slow and fast at the same time. We weren’t breaking the kiss but some moments of it – like his hand brushing my side and making me cover in goosebumps – were fleeting like blinks while others – like the weird scorching thing in my whole torso – felt endless. It was indescribable to a point, the heat of the moment but the moment was long and the pace was changing slightly the more it went on. It hadn’t been him either. It was him responding to me, because I couldn’t for the life not hold him tightly and subconsciously look for more. We were glued together and his fingers had tentatively pushed up my shirt at the back so they could trail up and down the curve of my spine.

My head was tilted, fingers tangled in his hair and heavy huffs escaping my nostrils. He smelled like lavender and rain and cologne, and my fucking conditioner I’d told him a thousand times to stop using because it was expensive. I didn’t bother scolding him about it now. My desperate want turned the kisses hungrier and there was this point – I might’ve wiggled slightly to find an even closer spot – but he stiffened and grabbed the back of my head, growing twice as persistent and passionate. Weird, using that word about him. It hit me the forbidden part of male anatomy I was seated on top of had risen to attention. It made me wonder if it had happened before and that, in turn, was simultaneously embarrassing and flattering. He was attracted to me, too. Duh. We were literally making out on my bed.

When more began translating as more of everything instead of more of this particular thing, he seemed to sense the shift. His hands guided me off his lap and back on the bed. My head was resting against the pillow and my head was empty, lids fluttering open to drink the sight of him the first time he broke the kiss – pale but handsome, tired but caring, bored but clearly moved by the happening. It was a miracle. I’d been begging for this statue to show me anything in the beginning of his internship. I hadn’t known it could show me this – it looked like a godsend. My heart was going a hundred miles per hour, my breath was unsteady and my body felt hot all over.

It didn’t matter where he kissed – my lips, my neck, my chest, my shoulders – I just wanted him to keep kissing me. Temptation had seldom been this strong and the vow was no longer active, it was fulfilled – an electrifying realisation. I didn’t need to have him stop. What my sinner’s hands did the moment that resolution snapped in place was to grab the hem of his shirt and, with pointed urgent eyes, plead with him to take it off. He hesitated for exactly one second, then complied, like he’d complied with everything else without having me say it. He was kneeling between my legs, arms going over his head so the piece of clothing could be discarded. His chest and abdomen flexed, the biceps, the triceps, all the other names of muscles I’d had to read about but hadn’t memorised. Adonis in the flesh. Fuck me for drooling. Oh.

If I could paint, I’d paint him. If I could sing, I’d write a song. If I had a taser, I’d tase myself out of being so cringe-worthy in admiring the body of a man. But when that body pressed against mine, everything became a bit too hot – literally and metaphorically – so I decided the next step was to cool down by taking off my own clothes. First the shirt, then the pants he helped out with. I almost laughed when they tangled at my ankles and he had to tug them off with an irritated frown. Here it was, having my father’s intern see my bra again. This time I didn’t mind.

“Frills? Seriously?” Well, now I minded.

“Do we have an issue?” I snapped with a pointed look. It didn’t help he was towering over me, sizing up my underwear with eyes that spoke simultaneously of him being amused and him being something else. I wondered if he was still hard. I hadn’t touched there once.

“It’s almost cute,” he mocked flatly. He didn’t reach to take it off – he just leaned down to mollify me with a kiss. It worked. I was carried off into wanting more again. The weight of him on top of me grounded the body and made the soul soar. It was a cringe comparison but whatever, it was true. I realised, right about the time I tugged on the waistband of his sweatpants and his brows flashed in unrestrained surprise, that I was an eighteen-year-old doing exactly what was expected of every single eighteen-year-old on the planet – sneaking a boy into my room while my parents were out.

This here was a boy I trusted and a boy I was halfway convinced was more of a man than a boy, mostly when it came to observing how he casually sat up and removed his sweatpants with precision contrary to clumsiness. My eyes flickered down to his boxers. Still hard alright. There was a rush of excitement and shame all at once when I realised it. A bit too late to stop and pin this a mere heat-of-the-momet make-out session. It was the real deal. Happening. Live. In my room. On a late August evening. Goodness gracious.

It took me a second to process it and he might’ve sensed that I’d grown a bit rigid despite remaining just as active. He didn’t advance the happening, petting my hair and kissing me, and trailing lower, but only as low as he’d gone before, finding the rest a sort of forbidden land. Didn’t even take off the bra with the frills he mocked me for. What a gentleman. He was kissing the curve of my breast and I was wondering how in the fucking hell I’d deserved this.

“We don’t have to,” he warned at some point. “If you don’t want to. Saying no is allowed.” He kissed me and it was intoxicating, but also the last snapped nerve. I arched my back off the bed, elbows bending so my hands could reach for my bra clip. The shoulder straps went loose and Levi paused for a moment to process what the act meant.

“I won’t say it,” I muttered with determination, eyes locked with his. Pride was strong within me even now and, having the wordless consent, he gently took off the bra before paying some attention to newfound territory. It was like being examined in a lab. Again, my boobs weren’t perfect. It was genetics and fate, and whatever else. In being embarrassed about him staring at my chest, I was graced by the thought I hadn’t shaved anywhere. Double embarrassed. Wasn’t it only right that the first time would come with presentability? There go the Raven teachings.

And the word nipple is somewhat lame – I’ve heard it from native and non-native speakers of English both – but there is no other word. So when his tongue rolled around my nipple, I forgot I hadn’t shaved and drew such a sharp breath I almost choked. My chest was heaving and he was thumbing my other nipple. I thought we’d get straight to it and was mistaken. He knew better, it seemed, because a virgin needed the bare minimum of this much and more foreplay to truly relax. It hit me for a fraction that this was actual foreplay while I was staring at the ceiling between trying not to make any sounds. I was like a dead fish, just letting him do things to me. More responsive than a dead fish but awfully inexperienced in any case. It made me feel just a bit guilty. My one saving grace was the fact his erection kept brushing against my leg – and if that was there, then it meant he wasn’t dissatisfied.

It was a black spot for a while because I couldn’t pinpoint between the overwhelming build-up of nice but not nice enough where exactly Levi was kissing or sucking or nipping or touching. Now it would be my thigh, now leaving a hickey on my shoulder, now trailing kisses over my jaw and down my neck, now caressing my side, now trailing a finger down to my navel, now my boob, intermission, the other boob – and the whole time there was that thing in my abdomen, the same one I’d felt with Eren, the hot knot begging for attention.

This was a new person and I hadn’t thought it’d come with a new person, but it was there alongside a brand new dynamic which wasn’t hurried or harsh or overtly passionate like I’d been used to. The pace was decent and steady and passion here didn’t amount to bruises – or at least not explicitly so. The new person made it thrilling, overwhelming. The new person made it a brand new experience. And when the brand new person’s hand gently dipped to touch the part where my legs met, I shivered all over, heart and lady boner flinching at once. Levi, with his obstinacy, refused to ask permission vocally. I still nodded, spreading my legs a bit wider. Slowly, like my panties weren’t in the way, he kissed from my knee to the base of my inner thigh, nipped slightly and made me yelp, and muffled something like a chuckle against the plush of my leg.

I didn’t know what he was thinking. I knew his fingers pressing against the spot where wetness had accumulated made my mouth gape slightly. I craned my neck and closed my eyes. There was embarrassment holding hands with excitement, with pleasure breathing down their necks. Nothing quite mattered. I breathed out like I’d been holding my breath for fourteen minutes when the raven’s fingers gently dragged back and forth against my core and then he might’ve been impatient, because he tugged my underwear out of the way, down my legs, past the knees and the ankles, dropping it with the rest of our clothes and the empty Dorito bag on the floor. It was a whole mess, this thing. I wanted it.

“The house is empty, princess,” he said while leaning down to kiss below my navel.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, almost out of breath in spite of my lungs functioning perfectly. His fingers were ghosting on the side of where I wanted him to touch. His mouth dragged lower. There was the jab of shame about not being shaved again. It hadn’t sent him to his feet and out of the room, so it was probably fine. A man wasn’t afraid to fight the jungle, I’d heard a few times before.

“That you can make noise without being scared,” he responded casually. I snorted and decided inwardly that I wouldn’t be making any noise whatsoever, just to spite him. It did feel good, though, so I doubted I could actually hold back effectively. As though to challenge the unsaid decision, Levi cut the suspense short. When his tongue rested where only one other had before, I came close to whining. My hand shot down to paw at his hair and he hummed against my clit. The vibrations of it made me writhe slightly.

He licked and sucked – nipped twice, which made me yelp both times – and did all sorts of other magic. Added to the title of mind-reader would now be the rank of mage. Then, there was this point when I could feel his fingers prodding at my entrance – a gentle warning of what was to come. First it was one. My mouth gaped and there was a slight flash of something like pain. More like discomfort. Now this was brand new wherever I looked at it from. Remember, my vow had its doors but none had included penetration. Officially the furthest I’d gone with somebody. Goodbye, hymen. You served us well.

He waited. Waited almost a full minute and distracted me with his tongue before I rolled my hips to give him the green light. Slow pumps. It was still uncomfortable, but the friction wasn’t painful. Just uncomfortable and new and I didn’t like change, but when this one found with its finger one particular spot sold off as the Bermuda Triangle for men to find, I might’ve liked this particular change. First, it made me moan. Second, the more he kept reaching that spot – because it was impossible to miss I liked it – the closer I was to coming. There were sloppy sounds and a second finger inserting itself in me, and my voice bouncing off the walls before dropping to the floor in a hush.

I might’ve said his name, actually, I might’ve half-screamed it. The orgasm hit me like a brick dropping straight on my genitals and he kept flicking his tongue slower and slower until I’d ridden it out in full. How considerate. When his fingers came out, there was a spot of blood. My mouth clamped shut in shame. He reached over to clean them with a wet wipe – then he cleaned me, too, because obviously he could see things that were invisible to me. There was slick on his chin and I glared half-heartedly when his eyes twinkled in amusement at me.

“Well, that’s done,” I muttered while he leaned over with the intention to kiss me again. “Wipe your mouth, asshole.” I put a hand to his chest to prevent my own pussy juices from coming in contact with my face. For a clean-freak, he sure didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get them off.

“You don’t want to see how tasty it is?” He was mocking me. I was red and hot all over still, a bit like a deflated balloon being refilled with exasperation contrary to air. No longer a virgin, as far as doctors would care. Still kind of in the middle, considering typical hetero interactions included something more than fingers.

“God, no!” I tried to push at his jaw and he almost chuckled when the pussy juice got on my fingers and I flicked my wrist frantically to get it off.

“It was god, yes a second ago,” he drawled pointedly. I burned bright red under his gaze, naked and not a hymen-bearer and kind of lost as to what came next. I pouted, swatted his shoulder and pretended to be very disgusted when he kissed me, making it open-mouted and sloppy for the sake of spiting me. In truth, it didn’t taste like much. Tasted weird, unlike food and drink. Well, that’s bodily fluids for you.

Remember the right-est choice I made as of late? Here it comes. The kiss guided his fingers down to my clit again and mine – to the band of his boxers. A tug and a snap, and he asked me three whole fucking times if I was sure. Not verbally, of course. It was just the particular way he stopped between each step to make sure, to look at me straight in the eye and have me nod my consent back to him. Like I’d change my mind that fast. God’s sake – if I would’ve said no, I would’ve said it before we’d kissed. But this wasn’t something he would do under normal circumstances – not a matter of alcohol, guilt or duty. It was free will and choice. Mine might’ve been made sometime last month, right around my birthday.

The boxers were gone. I blinked at it. A penis in textbooks, a dick in colloquial speech, a cock in smut books, a member in tame erotica. Length, girth, meat sword, love machine – could go on forever. We sat staring at it like it was an alien and while I was bashful, I was also bad with measurements without the aid of a ruler, hence why I safely concluded that I could stack about four donuts on it and put the zipper on it. There was that thing – precum, was it? – leaking from the tip. In all honesty, no I didn’t want to lick it off. Same went for sperm. In the history of mankind, I’d done the gracious thing and sucked off my boyfriend exactly once – the rest had been handjobs because blowjobs came with terrible pains in the jaw, a cramping of the tongue, a crap salty taste and the awkward detail of looking like an unattractive fish during the act. So, no, I didn’t volunteer to show off how bad I was at it.

“Condoms, shit.” It flew out of my mouth unintentionally. Levi’s face scrunched up. We were both visited by the bitter realisation that going further was not an option anymore, unless he wanted to don on a sock. Then the solution came to me. “Keep it up, I’ll be back in a minute,” I mumbled hurriedly, jumping off the bed and rushing butt-naked out of the room so I could go to my parents’ bedroom. Yeah, no, such was the reality of things. I tried to keep my conscience untainted while rummaging through the wardrobe. The hidden box of condoms in the back by the shoes was the saving grace. I wouldn’t speak of this to a living soul that wasn’t Annie Leonheardt ever.

The moment I returned to the room with the box held proudly over my head, Levi snorted. He laid me on the bed again and the mood returned, which was weird because I’d pinned him the type of experience one moment of interruption and consider it all ruined. Not that I’d thought about him during sex or having sex. I hadn’t. I promise. I was thinking it now, when I was about to have it with him. The kisses eased the natural awkwardness and by the time he was putting it in, I was a desperate mess again. Sweat stuck to skin and my breath got stuck in my throat when he pushed it in. I blanked, gaped like I’d received a headshot and felt him stand still to let me adjust. There was, again, mild discomfort. Fingers couldn’t compare to a dick.

I gave it half a minute and told him to move. The first thrust had me whining into his mouth. It was good. It was good, progressively becoming better and better and better, a surprise arriving with each snap of his hips. My father’s intern having sex with me, my father’s intern, my father’s intern, my intern, my Levi. The first five minutes were full of careful slow strokes to let the awkwardness dissipate and for me to get used to it. I won’t call myself anything but I’ll say I got used to it a bit too fast for comfort. So it went. Losing my virginity to my father’s intern.

“Faster, can you--- a bit faster?” The words were choked out and you’d wonder why I would ask for faster when slow was doing a good job of making my chest heave like I was running a marathon, but it was maddening and addictive.

“I can for you, princess.” It was a rasp against the side of my neck and I was blanking because the voice, paired with the hands, with the scent, with the sensation of being full and empty, then full and empty again was so mind-numbing I could melt on the spot and stay there forever. So slow and careful turned into fast and considerate. There was no harshness in him even when he kneaded my boobs or licked stripes down the length of my throat, no harshness whatsoever when he gripped my thighs or my sides. It was tight, but pleasant, egging me on further.

I bit down on the pillow when he found the spot. I bit his finger, too. I bit his shoulder and I bit my own hand to keep my voice down because how was something on this Earth allowed to be so nice? Fuck. He murmured at me to moan if I felt like it. There was a smug undertone. And when he reached between us to roll circles around my clit, I didn’t moan – I was a banshee impersonator, neck craning, back arching, toes curling, all that jazz. I came with a crash and a bang, and it might’ve been an hour by now, or maybe more, but the neighbourhood was asleep and I was wide awake, trying to wake them up, too.

A five-minute break of kisses served as an intermission to avoid me becoming overstimulated but Levi was still hard and still quite energetic in spite of the fact he’d been fucking me for an overall of thirty minutes without stopping or having his pace hitch. Round two started fast and I had my legs up, knees on the sides of my head. It was hot, seeing him through that kind of frame. Just one bead of sweat on his temple – not sticky all over, unlike me. Why was I the one becoming exhausted anyway? I was being a pillow princess. His eyes were gorgeous and his lips were slightly swollen.

“Please, don’t stop,” I whined at some point. He didn’t seem to have any prospects of stopping anyway, but I couldn’t help it. He huffed, chest heaving with lust and I knew it wasn’t easy to be the one doing all the work, so I mentally gave credit where credit was due. “Oh--- Levi, God!” He seemed like he wanted to laugh and my ring glimmered in the dark against his cheek while I tried to pull him down for a kiss which was simply impossible in our current position. He switched it five minutes later. It was not an understatement to claim I was seeing stars and everything was nice and nothing was awkward and this was the most handsome man with the most stamina on this land.

I lost my voice at some point, or I thought I did because my third orgasm couldn’t make me bite down on the pillow fast enough to muffle the literal holler that left my lungs. His name, by the way. If that hadn’t woken the neighbours, I wasn’t sure anything would. I was recuperating and he was trailing gentle pecks along my neck, still not finished. Was sex always this physically draining? My mind might’ve blanked during the third round and we were in missionary again because I insisted that I be able to kiss him any time I wished to. His hand was holding my wrist captive and the other was massaging my breast and it was all a giant whirlpool of pleasure and heat and fluids – the nasty and the nice in one, but I couldn’t care less about the nasty.

He came with a growl, biting down on my shoulder to muffle something that sounded like my name as his pace hitched and turned sloppy for the first time in what felt like hours. He slumped down on top of me and I was breathing more heavily than him, calmed by the weight. I was blinking at the ceiling and my heart was doing somersaults in my ribcage. He went to shower after a minute of rest, I called him out for being a clean freak and it just so happened that my perception of time wasn’t all too warped because checking my phone made me realise we’d had sex for about three hours, foreplay included. I slipped into the shirt he’d tossed on the floor, wiped myself and very considerately ignored the soreness in my hips while changing the sheets.

To my biggest surprise, he returned to my room in a new pair of boxers with his hair wet. There was no invitation. He joined me on the clean bed and wrapped his arms around me. This might’ve been aftercare. When our gazes locked, I didn’t dare avert my eyes in bashfulness. It was surreal and I wanted to memorise it. Then he asked me again – as voicelessly as the first time and the following ten – and I answered positively by flashing him the biggest smile I could muster. No words were exchanged. Levi rolled his eyes and I tucked myself under his chin, legs tangling with his. I was knocked out cold. I wouldn’t hasten to write this off as a happy ending but I wouldn’t immediately turn it angsty either. I explored. It was nice. I don’t think I regretted it for a second.

Waking up was a surreal experience because it included the added luxury of being bathed in sunlight with a warm arm draped around my midriff and a pale sunlit face inches from mine. A spot of purple in the crook of his neck and a few red crescents on his shoulder. Perhaps one or two leftover scratches on his back. I blinked at the sight incredulously, gradually coming to and realising what this position meant – prompted by last night’s three different ones, too.

It happened! Asshole-me hollered in my head, nearly hysteric, slamming a pan into a bell and making the echo of the toll ring painfully against the confines of my skull. You ruined it all! It was like an automatic switch – suddenly, the neutral was the bad and I had complicated it with my impulsiveness, my stupid hormones. I imagined four months of awkwardness and the wish to have more but being completely incapable of asking for fear it would mean feelings. I pictured a tense atmosphere, uncomfortable interactions, embarrassing thoughts, lame excuses. A friendship built with struggle and just barely reinforced annihilated to smithereens by my dumb ass.

I cringed, removing my hand from Levi’s chest to slap myself across the face for being horrible again – not in using him but in indulging my own selfishness. His eyelids fluttered open before the admonishment transpired and I was staring straight into the melted silver which had the tendency to read my thoughts. The current self-reprimanding cacophony would entertain him.

“… should make you coffee,” he mumbled half-coherently, making me blink wondrously at his hazy composure. This is normal, his eyes whispered, lips pressing nonchalantly to my forehead before he got up, so there’s no need to be so shocked. The trip down the stairs was silent. I had left scratches. More than two.

Currently, we were in the kitchen, sitting around the counter with our mandatory morning drinks. Unsaid words hung from the ceiling like dangling cobwebs. Levi, who’d needed a moment to retrieve his memories in full, was stiff and uncertain, and in spite of that visibly calmer than me. I could feel my face heating up as I thought of what to say. This wasn’t normal, even if both of us upon our respective awakening had pinned it such. It was something we had to discuss but how were we supposed to discuss sex when we sometimes fought over food? Deciding what to do seemed impossible.

“Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?” The raven, of course, was the one who broke the silence while I was slurping on my coffee, gaze averted and heart beating erratically. “Princess, I’m afraid this is something important,” he said in the face of my silence. His piercing glare was on my temple but I wouldn’t turn, keeping my fingers glued to my cup and my mind grounded in panic. “Need I remind you exactly what happened?” Levi pressed additionally, husky voice raising in audible urgency. I felt completely and utterly naked – dressed in only his shirt and my own underwear.

“We had sex, that’s what happened.” I shrugged, mind preoccupied with the strange feeling eating its way into it. Deep into my stomach, up to my lungs, through the chambers of the heart, in the windpipe – but not painfully. “There’s nothing more to it.” The nonchalant statement didn’t get a warm welcome. That much was to be expected. The attractive intern was frowning, rubbing his temples with a frustrated sigh. I tried not to look at his fingers.

And I’m trying to do just that, asshole-me scoffed pointedly. There’s something different about them when they’ve been inside you last night, yeah? A good type of different. Imagine it. My shoulders tensed as I chased her around in my head with a frying pan. Levi ran a hand through his ebony locks. Wow, is that the sex hair? And I pursed my lips in displeasure, knowing the struggles of the current moment and choosing in spite of them to secretly a wish for a second time. No harm, you know, no harm whatsoever in wanting to fuck your father’s goddamn intern, yeah? No? Can you hear it? Does it sound like a good sentence? Does it?

“Where exactly does your lacking virginity fit into your nothing more to it?” His retort made me cringe, well aware of the virginity ace hidden up his imaginary sleeve. It was a bit harder to argue with him when he was half-naked, letting me see the spots I’d bitten and kissed. The situation: we’d had sex. My side: I had nothing against him being my first because I trusted him and he’d been experienced and careful enough to make it nice. The actual problem: he was my father’s intern.

The abstract part: intimacy often came with, well… intimacy. Casual sex had the advantage of not seeing your partner again afterwards and in our case, we’d had casual sex with somebody we saw daily. Future speculation: tension due to this adventure would brew either discord or twice the ferocity in repeating the adventure. A possible solution: talking about feelings. Additional issue: Levi and I talking about feelings? Not in this day and age. Not in this life either. Telling him he made me feel warm and appreciated? Impossible. Honesty in the face of something embarrassing? Sorry, I don’t know her. She must be really lame.

“Everywhere, because I don’t care for it. It might add complexity to your situation, but it doesn’t play a big role in mine.” Dismissing the whole of it and pinning it on him was wrong. My nonchalance was false. Maybe it was what made him take a deep breath prior to speaking up again, his tea untouched.

“You’re supposed to be freaking out, princess.” His eyes were on mine and asshole-me was screaming: Come on, do it! Just kiss him and make things worse! Go right ahead! I averted my gaze with a snort. He’d used my nickname last night. Added a shade of meaning to it. I tried to get a grip as my rational side reasoned with the situation. This had been a one-time thing – or at least for him. Following that train of thought, wanting more was useless.

“You think I’m not?” It was high-pitched and ludicrous. Memories were surfacing and it was somewhat unpleasant to think they wouldn’t repeat. Levi kissing me in the dark, almost saying my name, clearing the hair from my sweaty forehead, biting my neck as he came, smiling against my lips as I tugged on his hair and tried not to moan, holding me close afterwards, not once saying the wrong thing. “I’m freaking out. You just don’t see it.” My downcast gaze was thoughtful and the air was becoming heavier with something I couldn’t identify. I could feel him staring and it bugged me not to know what he was thinking. “What?” I snapped, refraining from playing with my ring.

“What do you want to do now?” He asked flatly, eyes pinning me in place. “Do you want me to pretend this didn’t happen or do you want us to keep going?” It was ridiculous hearing him say it because, usually, he wouldn’t. I blinked, thinking I’d misheard.

“Keep going as in keep having sex?” I echoed to make sure I’d understood. It might’ve gone out a bit more shocked than expected, which made him sigh.

“I was listing options. In the end, it all comes down to what you want.” The flat voice made me realise I knew what I wanted well enough to have chosen during the conversation with Hanji three days ago or maybe even before I’d had the courage to admit it to myself.

“I don’t know what I want,” I lied with a pointed look, vehement embarrassment clawing up my throat and scratching at the back of it. I could say I wanted to keep going – his offer meant he might be willing – but his response was a fifty-fifty on whether he was sexually frustrated or would rather stick to decorum while living in the same house as the girl he was fucking and her father. I couldn’t turn the question on him because it was mean. I couldn’t call it a mistake because that would be another lie. I was tired of lying when it didn’t go to protect my pride.

“You don’t?” He quirked a thin brow mockingly, feigning the surprise he didn’t feel. “Or you just don’t want to admit your favour the more embarrassing option?” I sat motionless, knowing this wasn’t what I should’ve been doing – considering it. Maybe this was a test he had for me – to see if I’d be dumb or act like a reasonable adult. But (there came that stupid word again) if Hanji had been right, this wasn’t a random hook-up, which meant there might be something and---

Are you seriously considering a relationship with somebody who’s leaving in less than four months? Asshole-me interjected, making me sigh in defeat. Doesn’t fuck randomly, okay, fine, but this is an exception. How in the fucking hell would he grow to like you? You know that’s impossible. Methinks he went along with it because you clearly wanted it. Think about it, he does all sorts of bullshit for you. So what sounds more plausible? Him being himself or him liking you? The former, of course, but I couldn’t admit it. Like I couldn’t admit he was right to say I favoured the more embarrassing option.

“Even if it was like that,” I chose to return the favour and be doubtful, “I’m not inclined to think your morals would let you humour me.” My chin was tipped upwards while Levi shook his head and finally took a sip from his tea. The ghost of a smirk in the corner of his mouth disarmed.

“I have little to nothing against it. But,” (that fucking word again) the firmness of his voice was the only thing keeping my chest from swelling, “it doesn’t sound like an ideal course of action when you’ve almost got yourself a new boyfriend,” he reasoned calmly, somber responsibility lacing his tone.

“It’s not cheating if we’re not official,” I protested instantly, furrowed brows and a pout. He snorted.

“That’s not what I meant, princess.” My lips pursed at the jolt the nickname gave me. “I don’t want sex clouding your judgement. I get Rivers isn’t your boyfriend, but you shouldn’t exclude him as a possibility just because you’ve started thinking you have feelings for me.”

“Besides being a poet, you’ve turned into a psychologist, too,” I exclaimed with a genuinely cheerful chuckle that made him quirk a brow. Something in my throat shrivelled up. “Don’t dwell on my feelings too much, asshole,” I reassured. “I like this because it’s something new, not because I’m head over heels in love with you.” I was still chuckling as he sipped on his tea and fixed me with one of those firm looks that had the ability to bend the knees. The effect was doubled in intensity this morning.

“Make your choice then,” he said boredly, not wishing to be too imperious, seeing as the situation wasn’t taking place in a formal setting where he was the boss and I was the indecisive underling. I might as well have been, with how hot my ears got while I held his gaze, brave and stupid in the face of somebody who read me better than I sometimes read myself.

“I’m not saying it out loud,” I muttered, bashful. The ebony-haired intern watched me struggle before tilting his head to the side with a fake air of oblivion.

“Then I won’t know what you want,” he said innocently, attempting to mock my shyness and what was more – succeeding. I burned bright red, feeling heat creep up my neck and my glare was pointed and uncontrolled. It couldn’t pass as mere annoyance because Levi was hitting a nerve.

“I didn’t see you having a hard time knowing everything I wanted last night, but okay.” There was more spite than sass in the sentence, which only further conveyed my inability to stay nonchalant – something that clearly amused him. “I want us to… keep going. Satisfied?” Crossed arms, downcast gaze and a childish pout. I was the live embodiment of the word petulance and Levi wasn’t done having fun with it.

“Not as satisfied as I clearly left you.” He was smirking and I glared at him, furious and not knowing where the blood would go when there was no space left in my head. I hopped off my chair, turning my back to him and hearing how he moved to stand behind me. A well-meaning hand landed on my shoulder. “It was a joke, princess, there’s no need for the cold shoulder.” His tone was flat and disinterested, but there was a pacifying sliver. He might’ve been trying to make peace but I wouldn’t have it after all the embarrassment he put me through – just to have a good private laugh, too!

“Un-fucking-bearable, that’s what you are,” I hissed, brushing his hand off my shoulder and heading to the staircase in order to escape. He gave chase and set on ignoring the usual code that forbade touchy-touchy when unneeded. The pure and unfiltered imagination one must have in order to picture a shirtless Greek God chasing after a poorly dressed eighteen-year-old spoiled brat was too ambitious a requirement for anybody to fulfil. Turn to mythology for that, but it’s inappropriate there and this one meant well.

“I’ll stop embarrassing you if that’s what you want.” His hands were on my shoulders. He turned me around and I didn’t look at him, much less respond. He could sense I was ashamed. His hands slowly trailed down over my arms to hold my wrists in a grip I could, with effort, free myself from. “Does the mere mention of sex with no context whatsoever embarrass you, princess?” He knew it did, leaning forward with twinkling eyes and a complacent half-smile. “Your face is red.”

“And you’re a fucking genius, congratulations,” I spat with sarcastic disgruntlement. He pulled me forward so that I bumped into his chest. My shoulders jumped in surprise. I didn’t want to look him in the eye but the sight of the marks I’d left on him were no less embarrassing to behold. My heart sped up and I was pouting, flush against him with nowhere to go.

“It speaks,” he whispered by my ear. His hands retraced their steps over my arms and shoulders, gently gliding against the sides of my neck until they held my face. “Does it want to go up to my room?” Blue specks in a pool of melted silver. The question was genuine, in spite of being masked with slight mockery. The adult of us two. I tried to stay mad, but it was impossible. I promised the blue specks I’d count them later and then we were kissing. It was a funny picture – the whole of this situation – ridiculous but somehow not fictional. It was him lifting me off the floor and me wrapping my legs around him. It was him making step after step, steady and careful not to drop me while I snickered into his mouth. It was me being a literal koala and then it was us, hearing the jingle of keys.

“Shit,” I cursed, parting from him with a smack. He let go and I could catch only a glimpse of the panic on his face before I was running up the stairs. I’d barely closed the door behind us when I heard my mother greeting the empty kitchen downstairs. While I breathed out in relief, Levi was already heading to the balcony. It occurred to me that there was a pack of condoms on my nightstand and they were stolen. I’d need to make a trip to the pharmacy and replace the box. Talk about inconvenient. “Careful now,” I piped while the intern was preparing to make the jump, “we don’t want you to fall.” He gave me a half-hearted glare but said nothing.

When he was gone, I plopped down on my bed and grinned incredulously at the ceiling. This “secret sex” thing we were about to dive into wasn’t how I’d imagined the weeks prior to my first year in university, but oh, well. Expect the unexpected and if unable to – just accept it. This officially marked the beginning of my longest stay in City of Dumbassery. It was surprising, however, that I wasn’t alone in there. Twice as surprising that I’d be stuck with my father’s intern. Whom I was having sex with. Amazing. Spectacular. Asshole-me would have my ass for that.

tag list: @unloved-cadillac ; @donaldthrts

#mtij #levi x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #x reader #levi ackerman imagine #reader insert #levi ackerman x reader #it finally happened #all i'm going to say: i wrote the actual sex scene while editing the rest of the chapter because i was too bashful in the past lol #sure hope it's not worse than the vague three paragraphs of the past #levi is a literal king who preaches consent and safe sex and nobody will change my opinion #also our drama queen is entering a brand new arc of her life #beware: storm incoming

[music-is-love-90]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who & Related Fandoms Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: The Doctor (Doctor Who)/Original Female Character(s), The Doctor/Rose Tyler | Bad Wolf, Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones, Martha Jones/Mickey Smith Characters: The Doctor (Doctor Who), Rose Tyler, Ninth Doctor (Doctor Who), Tenth Doctor (Doctor Who), Eleventh Doctor, Original Female Character(s), Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Martha Jones, Donna Noble, Amy Pond (Doctor Who), Rory Williams, River Song Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, This is a rewrite of an old story, condensed into one story instead of like 5 Summary:

The tale of the Doctor and the Phoenix, last survivors of Gallifrey.

Previously published on Fanfiction.net as Never Gonna Be Alone, Savin' Me, Someday, I'd Come For You, and If Today Was Your Last Day. Edited and reworked.

Ch. 2:

Everything was set.

The flowers were perfect, the band was ready, everyone was dressed in their very best, she looked fantastic, and, best of all, at the end of the aisle waited the most perfect man in the world, ready to marry her, Donna Noble. 

Life was just about as perfect as it could get.

The organ began its famous call and Donna gave her father a nervous smile as the butterflies in her stomach doubled, tripled.  She began her march down the aisle towards her perfect future and they grew even more.  Kind of painfully.  Really painful.  Donna came to a stop as the pain grew ten times, a hundred times more painful.  The only thing she could do was scream as the world went black.

The next thing she knew, she was in an odd, dome shaped room.  She heard something behind her and spun on her heel to find a very skinny man in a pinstriped suit, next to the oddest contraption she had ever seen.

“Who are you?” she demanded.  He started sputtering, but she cut him off.  “Where am I?”

“What?”

“What the hell is this place?” Her voice started to rise. 

“What?”

She was fairly certain the man was an idiot, given how he was just staring at her.

“You can’t do that, I wasn’t even – But we’re in flight!” he exclaimed, tripping over his words.  “That is – that is physically impossible.  How did you – “

“Tell me where I am!” she demanded, cutting him off again.  “I demanded you tell me right now: where am I?”

“You’re inside the TARDIS,” he told her, looking more and more confused.

“The what?”

“The TARDIS.” He began moving around the console, taking readings.

“The what?”

“It’s called the TARDIS.”

“That’s not even a proper word!” she spat.  “You’re just saying things!”

“How did you get in here?” he demanded.

“Well, obviously when you kidnapped me!  Who was it that put you up to this, huh?  Was it Nyeris?  Is this her?  She finally getting me back?”

“Who the hell is Nyeris?” he demanded, completely mystified.

“Your best friend,” she replied, sneering at him.

He looked her up and down.

“Hold on, wait a minute.  Why are you dressed like that?”

“I’m going ten pin bowling,” she said snarkily, motioning to her white gown and veil.  “What do you think, dumbo?!  I’m getting married!  I was half-way up the aisle!  I’m gonna have the police on you!  Me and my husband, as soon as he is my husband, are going to sue the pants off you!”

As she was ranting, she spotted doors to the side of the room and took off, ignoring his shout to wait.  She flung them open, only to be brought short by the sight of a nebula in deep space. 

The Doctor calmly walked up behind her, silently asking the TARDIS if she would get Lily to the control room somehow.

“You’re in space,” he told the other woman calmly.  “Outer space.   This is my…spaceship.  It’s called the TARDIS.”

“How am I breathing?” she asked.

“The TARDIS is protecting us.”

“Who are you?” she asked finally.

“I’m the Doctor,” he replied simply.

“Donna.”

“Human?” he asked, looking at her.

“Yeah.  Is that optional?”

“Well, it is for me.” He turned back to the open doors.

“You’re an alien.”

It wasn’t a question, but he answered anyway.

“Yeah.”

They stood in silence, observing the turn of the universe.

“It’s freezing with these doors open,” Donna said finally, rubbing her arms.

The Doctor gave her a look and quickly closed them before running back to the console.

“I don’t understand this,” he said, quickly moving around the console, “and I understand everything.  This, this can’t be happening.  There is no way a human being can lock itself on and beam itself into the TARDIS.”  He grabbed an ophthalmoscope and started looking at her.  “Impossible.  Some sort of subatomic connection?  Something in the temporal field?  Maybe something pulling you into alignment with the Chronon shell.  Maybe something macro mining your DNA within the interior matrix.  Maybe a genetic – “

Donna slapped him.

“What was that for?” he demanded, recoiling in shock.

“GET ME TO THE CHURCH!”

“Right!” he yelled back, dropping the device and moving back the console.  “Fine!  I don’t want you here anyway.  Where is this church?”

“Saint Mary’s, Paytor Road, Cheswick, London, England, Earth, The Solar System!”

Donna spotted a woman’s jacket hanging over one of the corrals and grabbed it, brandishing it at him.

“I knew it!” she sneered.  “Acting all innocent.  I’m not the first!  How many women have you abducted?”

It took a moment for the Doctor to figure out what she was waving in his face, but his eyes grew cold when he realized it was Rose’s jacket.  It had been an unspoken agreement between him and Lily.  She didn’t mention the jacket that still lay where Rose had thrown it that last day and he didn’t mention the leather jacket that had gone missing from the wardrobe. 

After all, they were both grieving in their own way.

“That’s my friend’s.” he told the newcomer, struggling to keep his emotions in check.

“Well, where is she?” Donna demanded mockingly.  “Popped out for a spacewalk?”

“She’s gone.”

“Gone where?”

The Doctor tried to look away from the jacket, but he couldn’t seem to make himself actually do it.

“I lost her.”

Donna opened her mouth to respond, but they were both distracted by the sound of breaking china.  The Doctor turned to see Lily in the doorway, growing paler by the second as she stared at the other woman.

“Donna?”

The three of them stared at each other. 

“What?” the Doctor demanded, looking between them.

~.~

Ten minutes earlier

Lily had wandered away from the music room in search of a cup of coffee.  She was fairly certain the Doctor had snuck back to Earth while she was sleeping one night to get her some, given he only drank tea.  He never mentioned it, it just appeared one morning, and she couldn’t help but think it was very sweet of him.  She was almost done when she felt the TARDIS nudge her.  She was used to her TARDIS in her Universe doing the same thing when the Doctor needed her, so she sighed.

“So, what did he do this time?” she asked the ship, leaning against the counter as she stirred her coffee.  “Cross two wires and set himself on fire again?”

The time ship nudged harder and Lily sighed again.

“Alright, I’m coming.” she said, heading out the door.  “But he better be dying.”

She made her way towards the control room, noting that the TARDIS had rearranged to make it a straight shot.

“Must actually be serious,” she muttered.

She entered the room and froze, the cup slipping from her hand.  What she was seeing couldn’t be true.

“Donna?” she whispered.

She vaguely heard the Doctor say something before she felt her legs give out, but she never felt herself hit the ground as the memories overtook her.  Flashes of one of the worst days of her life, flowing through her mind, unrelenting.  She couldn’t make it stop, even as she felt her power slipping through her grasp.

She was losing control.

~.~

Now the Doctor was even more confused.  Lily had been slowly telling him of her life before she joined him, and Donna Noble had featured heavily in many of those stories.  Lily Carter’s best friend, a firebrand and braver than anyone she knew.  He knew she had died and that it had been awful for Lily, but he didn’t know much beyond that.  But it wasn’t the fact that she was alive in this universe that confused him.  No, it was trying to reconcile the kind, funny, empathetic woman Lily had told him about with the woman who had just slapped him!

None of that mattered, though, when he saw Lily fall.  He managed to get to her fast enough to keep her from hitting her head and he saw that, while her eyes were open, she was not seeing him.

“Lily?” he called, shaking her slightly, but she didn’t respond.

“See, I was right!” Donna crowed.  “Where did you pick her up?  Disney World?  Probably doing all sorts of freaky alien things to her!  She definitely looks like she’s on – “

“Donna shut up!” the Doctor yelled, surprising the woman into silence.  Content that she would stay quiet, the Doctor turned his attention back to the woman in his arms.  “Lily, can you hear me?”

There was no response.  She didn’t seem aware of anything that was happening around her, too deep in her own mind to notice him.  What was even more troubling was the gold flooding her eyes. 

He knew she had power, that the Vortex still lived inside her, and it looked like she was losing control.  Who knew what a release of that kind of power would do to the TARDIS, much less him and Donna?  There was no other option.

The Doctor laid Lily on the grating, taking her face between his hands as he entered her mind.

Every where he looked, there was chaos.  Lily’s memories were a jumbled mess, trapping her inside her mind.  As he moved through them, it became easier to distinguish what was from before she had met his counterpart and what came after.  He saw familiar places and familiar faces that he tried to not look too hard at, trying to find the path to the memory that she was trapped inside.  As he moved deeper, he saw more and more death as her memories turned darker and darker, giving him an idea of exactly why his counterpart had been willing to risk everything to send her to him.

No one should have had to endure this much darkness, much less someone as bright and kind as Lily Carter.

Finally, he located the memory Lily couldn’t escape and he entered it.

The room was clearly of Dalek design, sparce and unfeeling, and in the center was a table with a young woman strapped to it.  Her red hair was matted, and she had clearly been tortured, as blood still flowed from many of her wounds.  Some of the wounds seem half healed, while others were very fresh.

She had obviously been here for a while.

The door opened and Lily ran in.  She took a moment to assess her situation before running to the table and starting to undo the straps.

“Lily.”

The younger woman paused what she was doing at the whisper, grabbing her friend’s hand and holding it tightly.

“Hey, girlie,” she said gently.  “How you doing?”

Donna chuckled weakly and blood dribbled from the side of her mouth.

“I…I’ve been better.”

Lily laughed softly.

“Well, don’t you worry.  We’re gonna get you out of here and get you back to the Doctor.  He’s gonna fix you up, good as new.”

The forced cheerfulness sounded so brittle in the air.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Donna protested.  “The baby – “

“Would never forgive me if I didn’t come after their Aunt Donna,” Lily interrupted.  “So, stop distracting me so I can save your sorry ass.”

She squeezed her friend’s hand and let go, returning to the straps. Finally, they were done, and Lily wrapped her arm around Donna’s waist to help her up.  They only made it about halfway to the door before Donna collapsed to her knees, vomiting blood all over the floor.  Lily tried to get her up, but they just slipped in the blood.  Lily pulled her into her arms as more of her wounds reopened and the blood surrounding them grew even more.

“Lily…”

“Shh.  You’re gonna be fine,” Lily comforted her, stroking her hair.  “You’ll see.  Everything’s going to be fine.”

“Lily, I’m sorry.”

Lily started to cry as Donna weakly took her hand and pulled it up to her chest.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she told her friend fiercely.

“I didn’t tell them anything,” Donna whispered.  “I kept you safe.  I kept the baby safe.”

“I know you did.” Lily was sobbing now.  “I never doubted it for a moment.”

“Don’t…don’t blame yourself,” Donna said, growing weaker by the moment.  “I wouldn’t…have traded it for the world.  Tell…the Doctor…tell him…he better keep you two safe…”

“I will,” Lily assured her.  “And I will make sure my little girl knows she had the best aunt in the universe.”

Donna smiled softly.

“You’re…you’re my best friend, Lils,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.  “Love…yo…”

And she was gone.

Lily stared at her, her face slack in shock.  She pulled Donna’s body to her, rocking her slowly as the body slowly began to cool.  A little while after that, the air began to change.  Where there had been stillness, electricity now crackled.

And Lily’s eyes turned pure gold.

The scene faded for a moment before resetting and the Doctor realized Lily was stuck in a loop, reliving the death of her best friend.  A woman who now stood in their ship with no idea of who Lily was.

He pulled back slightly and saw that Lily’s eyes in the real world will also gold.

She was losing control, reacting to the memory of one of the worst days of her life.  He could tell she was fighting, trying to push the memory back, but she couldn’t do that and keep control of her power.  So, he dove back in, fighting through her trauma to help her lock the memory away.  It wasn’t perfect, and she would need to deal with it eventually, but it was the best option for the moment.  As his mind joined with hers, he felt something he hadn’t felt in centuries: the comfort of another mind.  He had been so alone for so long that he couldn’t help but bask in the comfort of someone else to reach out to, settling into the hole the Time Lords had left.

He helped her push the memory back and reluctantly pulled away to find her eyes finally seeing him.

Thank you.

He could have wept at the sound of another voice in his head.

I know I should have asked, he told her sheepishly, but there didn’t seem to be any time.

He felt her smile more than he saw it.

I prefer to be alive, rather than all of us dead, so it’s probably best you didn’t wait for permission.

Still.

He started to pull away, but she grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her.

For the future, you have permission to enter my mind any time you think it necessary, she told him.  I trust you.

He felt a feeling rush through him that he hadn’t felt in so long.

Belonging.

She might be in a human body, but Lily Carter was a Time Lord at heart, which meant he wasn’t alone anymore.

He smiled softly and nodded.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?”

Lily stifled a sob and the Doctor pulled her into his arms, ignoring the other woman completely.

“Will you be alright?” he asked softly, and Lily hesitated for a moment before nodding.  “She isn’t your Donna,” he warned.

“I know,” she whispered.  “I’ll manage.”

He nodded, getting to his feet and holding his hand out to help her up.  When she was on her feet, he squeezed her hand before letting go and heading to the console.

“Did he kidnap you too?” Donna demanded, walking towards Lily.

The other woman swallowed thickly, looking anywhere other than the red head.

“No,” she told her softly, resisting the urge to either run away or throw her arms around the other woman.  “He’s…protecting me.  He’s my friend.” She glanced at him and saw him smile warmly, giving her strength.  “I had something happen to me and he gave me a soft place to land.  He’s one of the good guys.”

“Well, I don’t need protection,” Donna said with a sniff.  “Get me to the church!”

“Right,” the Doctor said grumpily.  “Chiswick.”

He threw the TARDIS into flight and Lily grabbed the railing, hanging on for dear life.

“Doctor, I take it back!” she yelled.  “I’m pretty sure you’re trying to kill me!”

“It’s not me!” he yelled back.

“You always say that!” she shouted without thinking and winced.  “I imagine, I mean.  I think she’s starting to take offense!”

“What do you want from me?!”

“I want to make it to London without throwing up!”

“Well, talk to her!”

“She’s your ship!” Lily shot back.  “You talk to her!”

“WILL YOU TWO STOP TALKING LIKE THE SHIP’S ALIVE!” Donna screamed at them from where she was holding on for dear life.

They both turned to stare at her.

“But – but she is!” the Doctor sputtered, looking a bit like a child who had just been told that Santa wasn’t real.

“It’s a ship.” She told him slowly, as if speaking to a simpleton.

“Yes, but she’s grown, not made.” The Doctor explained excitedly.  “TARDISs are sentient.”

The TARDIS chose that moment to touch down, throwing them all to the ground.  Faster than anyone could have thought possible in a floor length gown, Donna was up and through the doors.  As she looked around, she realized they were nowhere near a church. 

The Doctor and Lily followed her out and she rounded on them.

“I said St. Mary’s!” she shouted at them.  “What sort of Martian are you?”

The Doctor had already turned his attention away from her and towards the TARDIS.

“It’s like something’s wrong with her,” he said to no one in particular as he stroked the side of the shell.  “It’s almost like she’s…RECALIBRATING!”  He ran back inside and straight to the console.  “She’s digesting!”

Lily knew he was talking to her, but she was more interested in watching Donna’s reaction to the outside of the TARDIS.  It was almost physically painful to watch this woman have the same reaction as dead woman she had loved more than almost anyone while having her face and not being her.  Lily was caught between wanting to rage at her for the sin of not being her Donna, while wanting to gather her in her arms and never let go.

“Who’s this man you’re marrying?” the Doctor called as Donna took off down the alley.  “Are you sure he’s human?  Hasn’t got a zipper on his forehead, does he?”  He poked his head out and saw only Lily.  “Where is she?”

She just pointed at Donna’s retreating figure.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Lily met his eyes and he saw the pure grief there and he nodded.

“Come on,” he said, exiting the TARDIS and holding out his hand.  “We can’t let her get too far before we figure out what’s going on.”

Lily nodded and took his hand, letting him pull her after Donna.

“Donna…” he called as they caught up.

“Leave me alone!  I just want to get married!”

“Donna, just come back to the TARDIS,” he insisted.

“No way,” she said, shaking her head.  “That box is too weird.”

Lily smiled at that and the Doctor squeezed her hand.

“It’s bigger on the inside, that’s all,” he told the other woman, as if this explained everything.

“Oh!” she rounded on him, staring at him.  “That’s all?”  She glanced at her watch and groaned.  “Ten past three!  I’m gonna miss it!”

“Can’t you phone them?” Lily asked.  “Tell them where you are?”

“How do I do that?” Donna sneered at her, motioning to her dress.

“Oh, right.” Lily agreed sheepishly.  “Mobile phone’s probably not a big consideration with a wedding dress.”

“Why not?” the Doctor asked, confused.

“I don’t have pockets!” Donna screeched at him.  “Have you ever seen a bride with pockets?  You know what the one thing I forgot at my fitting at Chez Allison?  You know what I forgot to say?  I forgot to say GIVE ME POCKETS!”

“This man you’re marrying, what’s his name?” the Doctor asked.

Donna’s whole personality changed.

“Lance,” she told him dreamily.

“Good luck, Lance.”

Lily elbowed him in the side.

“Oi! No stupid Martian is going to stop me from getting married,” she yelled at him, walking away again.  “The hell with you!”

“I’m – I’m not from Mars,” he called after her.

“Well,” Lily said, linking her arm with the Doctor’s, “she may not be my Donna, but I can tell you that you might as well give up now.  She’s never going to care.”

The Doctor just shook his head, leading her down the road after the other woman.

They caught up with Donna as she tried to hail a cab and had no luck.  Lily stood back and watched as the Doctor tried to help and had no better luck.

“Why aren’t they stopping?” he demanded, confused.

“They think I’m in fancy dress,” Donna replied, annoyed.  Another driver drove by, yelling for her to lay off the sauce.  “They think I’m drunk!” And yet another told her she wasn’t fooling anyone.  “They think I’m in drag!”

For a moment, Lily thought Donna might give chase to that one.

“Both of you, stop,” she ordered, stepping out to the curb. 

She put her fingers to her lips and let out an ear-piercing whistle.  A moment later, three cabs had stopped.

“Et voila,” she said as they approached the nearest.  “Perks of growing up in New York.”

“You couldn’t have done that earlier?” the Doctor groused as they got in.

“I was enjoying watching you try.” She shot back with a cheeky grin.

He shook his head, a slight smile passing over his face.  Donna was giving the driver the directions when he informed them that it would be double, due to it being Christmas and all.

“Oh my god.  Have you got any money?”

“Um, no.  Haven’t you?”

“Pockets, Doctor,” Lily said, rubbing her temples.

They quickly found themselves back on the street.  The Doctor got Donna situated with a nearby payphone before taking Lily’s hand and leading her over to stand in line for a cash point.  Lily smiled as the Doctor shifted his weight, clearly impatient.

“Would you like me to distract him?” she asked with a smirk.

The Doctor took in her loose sweatshirt and jeans with an arched eyebrow and she smacked his arm playfully.

“Rude.”

The Doctor’s expression fell, and he swallowed, turning away from her.  A moment later, he felt her hand slip into his, squeezing it tightly.  He squeezed back, taking comfort from the fact that he wasn’t alone.

Finally, the man left, and Lily angled her body to block The Doctor as he used the sonic screwdriver to get some cash out of the machine.

“You know, stealing is a crime.” She teased as they walked away.

“What are you going to do, turn me in?” he shot back, swinging her arm.  “Oh, officer!  My Time Lord friend here just stole money from the cash machine using his amazing sonic screwdriver.  Yeah, that’s going to work.”

Lily wrinkled at his attempt at mimicking her accent.

“I do not sound like that.”  The Doctor just smirked at her.  “I do not!”

They arrived back at the road to see Donna getting in a taxi.

“Thanks for nothing!” she shouted, slamming the door shut.

Lily sighed, shaking her head, but the Doctor was distracted by a band of Santas playing nearby.  He looked back at Donna and Lily caught his look.

“What is it?” she asked.

“The band…”

The taxi carrying Donna drove past them and they saw one of the Santas driving.

“DONNA!”

He grabbed her hand and started pulling her back.

“What’s happening?”

“I’ve seen those Santas before,” he told her, looking for an escape.  “Last Christmas, when I regenerated.”

“I think I remember that story,” she said, backing away.  “Pilot fist to the Sicorax’s shark, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Just to confirm, this isn’t the same Christmas, right?”

“Just how bad a driver was your Doctor?”

Lily just smirked as the band started to head their way.  The Doctor quickly began looking for an escape route and spotted the cash machine they had just used.  He pointed his screwdriver at it and cash spewed out of it, driving the crowd into a frenzy, and allowing them to slip away in the confusion.

They ran back to the TARDIS and the Doctor quickly put them into flight.

“So, why do they want Donna?” Lily asked, holding on for dear life.

“No idea,” the Doctor replied, flipping a switch.  “This didn’t happen in your universe?”

Lily shook her head.

“We met her when her temp job was attacked by Cybermen.”

Spark flew as the TARDIS tried to shake herself apart.

“Behave!” the Doctor shouted, hitting the console.

“She doesn’t seem to like it when you do that!” Lily called.

“Yes, well, she can complain later.  Right now, she can do as I say!”

They flew down the motorway, tracking Donna and only hitting a few cars as they went.  The Doctor motioned for Lily to take over and she quickly took his place at the console.

“When I say, pull the lever!”

She nodded and he ran to the doors, flinging them open to find them next to the cap carrying Donna.

“Open the door!” he screamed at her.

“Do what?” she screamed back.

“Open the DOOR!”

Donna tried the handle, but it wouldn’t budge.

“I can’t!  It’s locked!”

The Doctor pointed the sonic screwdriver and the window opened.

“Santa’s a robot,” she told him dryly.

“Donna, opened the door!” The Doctor ordered.

“What for?”

“You’re going to have to jump!”

“I’m not jumping, I’m supposed to be getting married!”

The RoboSanta sped up at that moment, leaving the TARDIS behind.

“Now!” the Doctor shouted.

Lily pulled the lever and they pulled level with the car again.  The Doctor stumbled at the TARDIS jerked forward but he managed to use the sonic screwdriver to disable RoboSanta.

“You’ve got to jump!” he told the red head.

“I’m not jumping on a motor way!”

The Doctor sighed.

“Look, whatever that thing is, it needs you.  And whatever it needs you for, it’s not good.  Now, come on!”

“I’m in my wedding dress!”

“Yes, you look lovely.  Come on!”

Donna opened the door with a groan.  Looking down at the road flying by beneath them and back up to the Doctor, she shook her head.

“I can’t do it!”

The Doctor went still.

“Trust me,” he said, just loud enough for her to hear.

“Is that what you said to her?” she demanded.  “Your friend, the one you lost.  Did she trust you?”

“Yes, she did,” the Doctor replied, his face hard.  “And she is not dead, she is so alive, now, JUMP!”

Donna hesitated for a moment longer and then threw herself out of the car.  She landed in the TARDIS on top of the Doctor as the doors slammed shut.

“Time to go!” Lily called, pressing the necessary buttons to take them away from there.

#Doctor Who #TV: DW #Fanfiction #The Doctor #The Tenth Doctor #OC #The Doctor x OC #The Tenth Doctor x OC #Donna Nobel

[marthaskane]

We’ve had a laugh though, haven’t we? Seen it all. Been there and back.

#dwedit #doctorwhoedit #rtdedit #mickey smith #rose tyler #mine #mine: gifs #mine: dw #ch: mickey smith #ch: rose tyler #tv: doctor who #dw series 2 #dw 2x06 #rose and mickey #if anyone ever wants to ask me why i love rtd era so much #it's mickey's line about 'me and you off that old estate flying through the stars' #and i love that! #like the rtd companions are just regular people #ordinary people #ordinary people who learn that they can still do extraordinary things #because mickey and rose are so important! and they're so good! and brave and strong and incredible #rtd had so much human and heart in his era and i live for it #anyways they're faves and i love them #and rewatching this scene broke me

[herestoimagination]

—And I bet you’re fussing and moaning now. Typical. But hold on and just listen a bit more. The TARDIS can never return for me. Emergency Program One means I’m facing an enemy that should never get their hands on this machine. So this is what you should do: let the TARDIS die. Just let this old box gather dust. No one can open it, no one will even notice it. Let it become a strange little thing standing on a street corner. And over the years the world will move on and the box will be buried. And if you want to remember me, then you can do one thing. That’s all. One thing. Have a good life. Do that for me, Rose. Have a fantastic life.

#dwedit #dwcompanionsedit #rosetyleredit #otp: better with two #p: rose x nine #ep: parting of the ways #tv: doctor who #ch: rose tyler #ch: jack harkness #ch: mickey smith #gifset

[herestotheunknown]

Go on, then. There's no choice, is there? You can only chase after one of us. It's never going to be me, is it?

#dwedit #dwcompanionsedit #p: rose x ten #ch: mickey smith #ch: rose tyler #p: rose x the doctor #ep: rise of the cybermen #gifset

[nerdie-faerie]

Scars of the Pandorica - Chapter One.

This chapter has been driving me crazy but I’m finally posting it, here you go @michael-the-angelo

Rose darted into the familiar hardware store as rain pelted down on her from above. The weather had been bizarre lately. It could switch at the drop of a hat, one moment they were experiencing a heatwave, the next weeks of snow. She knew better than to believe it was simple climate change or to pass it off as a coincidence that it started around the same time her scar appeared. It had been a month since then and she was no closer to figuring out what it was than when she’d started.

She shivered in the shop’s entrance, the sound of the bell still ringing in her ears. The owner was a man in his twenty with long dark blond hair that went past his shoulders, rectangular glasses and he always wore t-shirts for bands Rose didn’t recognise as they were specific to this universe. She’d not had much time to catch up on pop culture since she’d returned to Pete’s universe. Okay that was a lie she’d had two centuries but she’d deemed it unimportant and a fruitless task. It was a constantly changing entity that was impossible to keep track of.

“Rose! What can I do for you?”

“Scalpels? Got any scalpels?” She asked in a rush.

“Scalpels? What do you need those for?”

“Rob, how long have you known me?” She teased.

He sighed.

“Long enough to know not to question what you do in that madhouse of yours.” He recited with an eye roll.

“Exactly.”

“We don’t have any scalpels but we’ve got some craft knives.”

“That’ll do.”

“Third aisle on the left.”

“Thanks.”

“You owe me a lasagna!” He called after her.

“Sure thing.”

She was certain she’d had a scalpel at some point but she’d lost it sometime between dismantling the toaster and prodding at some alien junk she’d found. And she’d somehow lost all of her kitchen knives but that might have been from decades ago she couldn’t remember anymore. It was just another of the many things she didn’t bother to remember, if it was important it would come to her.

She located the knife easily and was soon back in her apartment. She’d changed into a tank top and pulled her hair back into a ponytail, wanting to create as little cleaning up for herself as possible.

She’d tried all number of things to figure out what the hell the scar was because it sure as hell wasn’t natural, but so far nothing. It was being unreasonably stubborn. And she was losing patience, had even started to speculate that there was something inside the scar tissue or behind preventing her body from healing already.

She was by no means a medical practitioner and would likely only make things worse but she hadn’t yet encountered anything that she couldn’t come back from. 

She twirled the knife between her fingers, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She’d washed the blade while a voice in the back of her head taunted her about the impossibility of infections and blood poisoning, and how the whole ritual was a waste of time she was using to disguise her fear.

She growled under breath as the voice piped up again and without a second thought she plunged the blade into the dead centre of the jagged scar tissue.

A scream tore itself free from her throat. Her hand burned and blistered as she clutched the craft knife but she barely registered it, as hundreds of images hurtled through her brain. Half a dozen people she didn’t recognise. It seemed to be going through a list as she was shown several different images of the same person before it moved onto the next. A teenage girl with brown hair, a young boy, a pale blonde, a young man and two women who appeared to be in their twenties with brown hair and similar features. She didn’t know what it was about these two but they were clearly important as it seemed to pause a little longer on each image of them for a little longer than all the people previously.

But soon it was too much. The sensation of fire consuming her mind was torture, she tore the blade free and was left gasping as the flames finally retreated. She turned her head wearily to the side to look at her bloodied and battered shoulder. She watched as the skin healed in an unfamiliar white glow, so different from the usual gold she’d become accustomed to. The wound finally closed, the glow being sealed off with it, but still, the scar remained completely unchanged.

She growled in frustration. She was getting nowhere with this. Grabbing a dishcloth she swiped at her shoulder a couple of times, removing all traces of blood when there was knock at the door. She tossed the rag at the knife effectively covering it, before heading to the door.

Stood in the corridor was a figure obscured by the bright flashlight that was currently shining directly into Rose’s eyes. She raised a hand to shield her eyes.

“Ms Spencer?”

“Sorry dear,” She lowered the torch. “the power’s out all throughout the complex we’re just checking that everyone’s okay or if they need a light.”

“A power cut?” Rose looked back over her shoulder into her apartment, and sure enough, all sources of light had disappeared except traces of light from the windows as her at was swept in rays of orange from the streetlights.

“You hadn’t noticed dear?”

She turned back to the concerned gaze of her plump, black-haired neighbour.

“Uh no. I was taking a nap.”

“A nap? But I heard you screaming dear.”

“Yeah,” She gulped, as images from moments before threatened to overwhelm her again. “Nightmares.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Are you sure you’ll be alright, dear? I can send Evans over if you need?”

Rose plastered in a tight smile as she fought the urge to groan and bang her head against the door. Evans was Nicki’s grandson, she’d been trying to set Rose up ever since she’d heard that the blonde was single.

“I’m sure. I’ll be fine, Ms Spencer.”

“Alright then. I best check on the others.”

“Of course.”

Rose watched as the woman disappeared down the dark corridor. She slumped against the door, held up only by her grip on the door handle as exhaustion crashed into her like a tidal wave. It appeared her little stunt had had more of an impact on her than she’d realised. She blinked several times trying to fight back the sudden fatigue. She backed into her flat, shutting the door heavily, as her legs gave out from beneath her. Rose shook her head in a valiant attempt to clear the cobwebs from her brain. It was pointless even trying before she’d even been able to walk to the sofa she was being consumed by darkness. 

“How is he?” Mickey whispered as he crept up the stairs to find his wife standing outside their son’s bedroom door.

She shook her head weakly.

“Still feverish.” She let out a huff of frustration. “I don’t get it, Mickey, physically he’s in perfect health and yet.” Her head thumps backwards against the door frame in helplessness.

“There’s got to be something. Maybe we can cal-”

“Mummy!”

The parents spun on their heels in a flurry of panic as they entered their only child’s room. Their little boy’s face was streaked with tears, he clutched at his favourite teddy bear as he sobbed. They rushed forward, Martha wrapped him up in her arms while Mickey knelt on the floor beside them.

“What’s wrong, baby? Can you tell me?”

“My head. Its too hot. And there were faces Mummy.”

“Faces? Like monsters?” Mickey asked as he rubbed his son’s knee, there was a deep pain in his chest from seeing his son so distraught but being powerless to help.

He shook his head with a whimper, his bottom lip trembling as tears continued to fall down his cheeks.

“People. There was a blonde woman with gold eyes. And others too. Daddy make it stop, please make it stop.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

And there they sat their child cocooned in blankets between them as they rocked him softly and sung lullabies, all the while they sank further and further into desperation for the fate of their child.

“Mr Smith, I need you to do a scan of Sky.”

“Of course, Sarah-Jane.” The familiar blue light scrolled slowly down Sky’s fidgeting form.

Sarah-Jane’s gaze flickered nervously between her adopted daughter and the Xylok as she awaited the verdict.

“Sarah-Jane, there appears to be an unidentifiable signal emitting from Sky’s shoulder.”

“Can you translate it?”

“Source…" The silence stretches out uncomfortably in the musky loft, falling like a blanket over its occupants. "Unknown.”

Sarah-Jane heaves a sigh of frustration. Scars don’t just appear without cause much less ones that burn to the touch. The energy required to leave a mark on its victim without using a physical presence was astronomical and almost always bad news.

“You must be able to find something?”

Sky was a mere child, whatever her start in this world, didn’t change the fact she was in Sarah-Jane’s care. Sky was her daughter.

“The signal is too deeply encrypted it will take time Sarah-Jane.”

“Thank you, Mr Smith.” She sighed.

“What do we do now, Sarah-Jane?”

“You,” She grabbed her bag off of one of the many cluttered sides. “Need to get to school. Mr Smith has nothing yet and you’re going to be late, so best not to worry about it for now." 

She tried to force reassurance into her smile, and after so many years crafting clever lies it came easily. Sky nodded and headed for the door. She went to follow but that wave of unease rose back to the surface as she glanced back at the supercomputer.

She shook her head. It was probably nothing.

Astrid took the rest of the day off after discovering the scar, feigning sickness. She’d paced her apartment for hours as she’d tried to find some explanation for it but inevitably sleep claimed her and she remained clueless. 

Hours turned to days, turned to a week. And nothing changed.

The scar sat on her shoulder as if it had been there for years and gave her no trouble as long as she didn’t touch it. Aside from adding a new scar to her growing collection, there were no other problems.

Well. There hadn’t been any other problems until one evening. She’d been sent home early and was enjoying a good romance novel when her shoulder starts to itch. More specifically her scar. Shuffled about on the sofa refusing to give in to the urge to scratch the bothersome itch, knowing full well how it would end. But the sensation grew, getting warmer and warmer, gradually reaching its crescendo, as her nerves felt as though they’d been set alight.

Before she could move from her spot on the sofa to grab some ice, she was being bombarded with images. A blonde woman waitressing amongst the rich. No. Wait. It’s her. But it can’t be. And yet it is. There’s two brunets, a Zocci, a couple in cowboy fancy dress and an elderly man. She sees androids designed like angels, a forklift and herself falling.

Her head spins and she fights against the inviting bliss of unconsciousness as her head is filled with another wave of images. There’s a little boy colouring in something called a police box, a young girl that reminds her of a lightning storm, two sisters that give her the chills, a young doctor who smells like the grave and a blonde that sounds like the howling of a wolf.

The whirlwind of images leaves her far more suddenly than it had started.

It takes a moment to orientate herself, but when she finally does its to find she’s slipped off of the sofa onto the floor. She pulls herself upright, desperately trying to ignore the pounding in her skull as she tries to make sense of the last minute. Who were those people? And what did they have to do with her scar?

It just didn’t make any sense.

#tw: blood #tw: self harm #not rp #ooc #ace writes sometimes #pandorica scars #sotp: ch one #my work #fanfiction #not hp #dw #doctor who #doctor who fanfction #torchwood #torchwood fanfiction #sarah-jane adventures #sarah-jane adventures fanfiction #martha jones #mickey smith #rose tyler #sarah-jane smith #sky smith #astrid peth #the pandorica opens #bad wolf #ocs

[mixkeymilkovich]

@milkimick dude yes!!!!! like morrissey can ch*ke or whatever, but i stg when they were coming up with his character, someone in the writers room was just listening to the smiths bc like!!! there’s so many smiths songs that are mickey through and through 😭

#this blog is pro smiths anti morrissey #but literally like… unlovable? mickey. reel around the fountain? mickey. it drives me bonkers

[mmand0]

Back To You Ch 2 // F!Reader X Javi

"What?" you asked. "Colombia? For what? Isn't that CIA's turf?"

Smith adjusted himself in his seat and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the desk. "This is a huge loss for us, Y/LN, but the CIA team we have down there from DC need some assistance with surveillance. Your name was one of the three agents suggested for this case, and the other two accepted other positions in Middle East and China." He continued to stare at you, waiting for a response. Nothing about his body language told you anything about his thoughts. Did he think this was a good idea? No- do you think this is a good idea?

You sat back and looked out the windows of the spacious office. The twinkling lights of Los Angeles sparkled under the crescent moon. It was a calm night- no helicopters, not much traffic, and the office was slowly beginning to quiet down as well. You usually enjoyed silence and solitude, but with the current situation you're in, well it was daunting. You felt as though you needed to answer him right here, right now. You turned back to your director and sighed. "How much time do I have to make a decision?"

"Not much. The earlier the better. We can get you to the next flight by tomorrow morning 07:30."

This was indeed a great opportunity- not just for your career, but you also felt lost. You loved your job, location, and friends, but something felt missing. There was a lack of intrigue, excitement, and motivation that chained you in Los Angeles- not to mention the metaphoric chain that connected you to Adam. Oh, Adam. This was your shot at something great. Your name was already being whispered around the circles, and this might be another ticket to the top.

"Well? How much time do you need before I need to recommend someone else?"

"None. I'll do it."

"Excellent. This is a wise decision, Y/LN. Johnson will pick you up from your apartment. He'll have your tickets and case files in a briefcase. Try to pack light, and good luck." The two of you rose from your seats and shook one another's hand. You could have sworn that Smith looked remorseful, but perhaps it was just your imagination. You exited the office and headed straight to the parking structure to find your car. It was almost empty except for a few cars on your floor. You checked your 1970's Timex  watch with Mickey Mouse smiling back at you as his hands pointed at the numbers. It was nearly 21:00. Adam might be asleep by now, so you decided to take a little joy ride to prepare yourself for the impending heartbreak you're about to put Adam through. He really seemed like he loves you, and he was a good man, but he wasn't the man you wanted. The image of you and Peña under that tree flashed in your mind as you neared your apartment complex. It irked you how much that man still had a hold over you. It's been a year or so- not that you were counting- and for whatever obnoxious reason, the feeling of being in his arms still haunted you. The way his tongue traced the shape of your lips and how his hands gently caressed your body was something you would never forget. Although you never slept together, there was something that he ignited in you that Adam never could. You could feel that flame in you as you continued driving down Wilshire boulevard. It felt like an itch you couldn't scratch, and you wondered what Javier Peña was up to now. Was he some big shot DEA working somewhere? Was he in with the FBI? CIA? He mentioned something about leaving the country after the academy... Perhaps he was already offered a job before graduation. Who knows... Either way, you needed to stop thinking about it.

You arrived at the apartment complex and took your time walking up the stairs. You were tired, but you were also anxious to talk to Adam. It ate you on the inside and caused the acid from your stomach to rise. You continued to remind yourself how good Adam was. He was a stable partner who showered you with kindness and reassurance- sometimes it was a little much, but what woman didn't want someone like that? Every movie depicted that women should be with men like Adam, and yet everything in you screamed get out. You stood in front of the door, took a deep breath, and unlocked it. The apartment wasn't dark like you expected. There were candles and vases of your favorite flowers everywhere, and Adam was at the pub table with a bucket filled with ice and champagne. He sat there in a nice button up shirt tucked into some dark jeans, and he had slicked his dark hair back into a neat style. He obviously trimmed his mustache and splashed some sort of cologne or aftershave.

"Adam, what is this?" you asked, placing your bag on the floor and closing the door behind you.

"Just something to maybe call a date? I know it's been off between us... You've been working hard, and I respect that, but I really wanted some time with you." Adam stood and motioned for you to come closer. He gingerly kissed your cheek, and took your hand in his. "I'm sure you've eaten-" You haven't- "but we can at least have some champagne and a cheesecake to share." He led you to the table and disappeared into the kitchen before reappearing with a decadent chocolate cheesecake drizzled with a caramel sauce and decorated with slices of strawberries and white chocolate shavings.

"Wow, um, thank you," you managed to say, awkwardly watching him prepare the dessert and popping the drink open. "I really appreciate it, Adam."

He smiled proudly as he joined you at the table. "I'm glad. We've been going through some rough times and it almost feels like you've been busying yourself even more lately... I just want you to know that I care about you, and I'm worried, but I also understand your tenacity. I do have something to ask you, Y/N..."

Oh, no.

You could feel your heart pounding out of your chest and time slow down as you watched Adam pull out a small velvet box. "Wait-"

There was no waiting. You were too slow, and Adam had opened the box. Inside was a golden ring with a single diamond in the middle. The golden band had some detailing all around it- it was the ring you were looking at with Marie. She wasn't just perusing the jewelry department at the mall for fun, she was helping Adam find out your preferences. This complicates things- no, more than complicate... It ruined your plan on ending things with him. Part of you want to turn him down, but for what? The hope you could find Peña again? There was no point in that. You have an established life here now, and it was comfortable. Sure, Adam wasn't the perfect man, but neither are you. In fact, you have been the reason why things weren't going great lately. Taking extra cases and tasks the past month has been exhausting, and you couldn't imagine what you made Adam go through. He will never understand why you're like this, but he was supportive.

"Will you marry me?"

You stared into his eyes, the candlelight flickered and the clock in the bathroom ticked loudly as he waited for your response. As quick as you could, you weighed out the options- if you say yes, you would have to plan a wedding while out of the country; if you say no, then when were you going to find another man that can understand your career? Knowing you, you'd end up working yourself to death and live alone for the rest of your life. This was your chance to have a life partner, and besides, Javier Peña was just a classmate you made out with (yet somehow still lingered on your mind).

"Adam..."

"Uh oh, what's with that tone?"

"Well... I accepted a job in Colombia. I was recommended to do some surveillance work with the team there, and I don't know how long this will be..."

Adam fell silent, head hanging as he thought about his response. "I see... Well, maybe..." He closed the velvet box and placed it on the table. "I understand your concern, but I am willing to wait for you to come back. I got into this relationship knowing something like this could happen. With Colombia's and Mexico's cartels running the town, this was bound to happen. We just didn't know when. So I will ask you again, will you marry me?" You were impressed with his response, though it left you feeling even more guilt and confusion. Was it fair to accept knowing that you weren't entirely sure whether you were in love or not? Or was this truly how life is, and love comes after working through things? Adulthood and relationships were obviously not your forte.

"Yes." An answer you'd soon regret.

You nodded and offered your left hand to him. Beaming, he gladly slipped the ring on your ring finger, and kissed your knuckles. He looked delighted, and you looked, well, confused. It was all very sudden, and you didn't really know how you truly felt. "Well, perhaps we should do a toast?" he asked, raising his champagne glass in the air. "To us."

The plane ride was just as uncomfortable as you had expected. It was a nine hour flight, and you spent at least two hours napping and this time you did remember to bring a scarf to use as a pillow against the window. You wore the comfiest clothes you could find: blue jeans, a black short-sleeved button up, and brown leather hiking boots. The next seven hours was an excruciating time with your thoughts and looking at your engagement ring. You had asked Adam if you could bring the box it came in just in case you did need to store it safely during work. He trusted you despite the promise he asked you to make, and truthfully, there truly were times in which you shouldn't wear anything that could reveal any personal detail about you.  

You arrived at Bogota safely around 16:30. After customs and security, you found your way to the front of the airport where a man in a white linen button up and khakis was waiting for you. You recognized him as one of the agents Johnson had described to you before boarding the plane. His name was Jones and was part of the CIA team helping with surveillance. Jones was a tall man around his forty's. He had an intimidating aura about him that made you slightly nervous, but you tried not to show it.

"Miss Y/LN, welcome to Bogota. I hope the flight wasn't too bad?"

"It was as good as it could be," you laughed. "Shall we?"

The ride to the embassy was hot, humid, and for the most part, pleasant. Jones seemed easygoing- for now- and the two of you chatted about trivial things. You could tell that he was trying to get a read, and you were sure that he could tell you were doing the same. So far, you've learned that he has been working for the CIA was nearly fifteen years and was working in DC before he was called to fly to Colombia. There were other agents in Bogota as well as the DEA. You noticed that the nerve on his neck twitched when he was talking about the DEA, but made no comments. Keep the boat floating.

"You married, agent?"

"No."

"Single?"

You paused and looked down at your hand.

"Ah, engaged... but...?"

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"Fair enough. We're here anyway."

The two of you exited the car and headed straight to the embassy. "Ambassador Noonan is waiting for us. After you," he said, motioning for you to enter the building first. Men and women in suits were still bustling about in the building. They paid no attention to you or Jones as they went about their routine. Some of them had their heads buried in files, some of them were chatting with one another, and others were sitting on various benches having a cigarette and looking rather exhausted. Jones greeted the woman at the front desk who you assumed to be Noonan's secretary, then opened the doors to the office. Noonan sat behind a large mahogany desk- larger than the one your boss had back in Los Angeles. She was an older woman with the same exhausted and stressed facial expression as everyone else, but as soon as you entered the room, her face snapped into something more cheerful. The meeting was a regular welcoming committee type of ordeal. Noonan offered you some whiskey, which you declined since you don't particularly want to drink such a strong drink after a long flight. The three of you had a nice decent chat before being briefed about the situation in Bogota.

"Alright, well then Agent L/N, welcome to Colombia," Noonan said, standing and stretching out her hand to shake yours.

"Thank you, ambassador. I look forward to working with everyone here."

"Excellent. We need more strong women around here." She gave you a wink before sending you off with Jones. "Show her around. Work can start tomorrow. I'm sure you're tired from the flight."

You nodded and thanked her for her time before following Jones back to the vehicle. The rest of the evening was a short tour around the town; Jones showed you the office building you would report to, walked around the building itself, then headed out to show you stores and restaurants, and of course the bars.

"You drink much, L/N?"

"Not really, no."

"Well, let's see how that lasts," Jones chuckled.

Although Jones said it in jest, you couldn't help but wonder what he has experienced here. After a few minutes, Jones parked in front of a building of a large apartment complex. It was a white building with black metal bars that protected the oak doors. It looked like an old building, but quaint. The two of you hopped out of the car. Jones was about to carry your luggage for you, but you were able to stop him and insist to carry it yourself. The inside of the building had clean brick tiling work in a basket weaving pattern, and directly to the left of the first floor was a staircase that led to the other levels. To the right there were bulletin boards and lounging areas. A stack of newspapers were scattered on a small round coffee table. The two of you continued up the stairs with Jones leading the way to the third floor. He stopped in front of your apartment door, reached into his pockets, and handed you your keys.

"Most of the tenants here are CIA. There's another building not far from here with DEA and embassy folks. I live in the top floor- Apartment 22. If you need any help with anything, call first."

"Sure thing. Thank you."

"Get some rest. We'll see you tomorrow."

To your surprise, the apartment was fully furnished with decent furniture and excellent amenities. There were two rooms: an office and your bedroom, a small kitchen, a tiny dining area, living room, and a bathroom. It didn't feel like home, but you were going to have to get used to that. You headed to the bathroom right away to draw a bath. Unpacking and organizing could wait. You did your best to rest and relax before the storm tomorrow.

You woke up early the next morning and prepared yourself for the day. A quick shower, light make up, and a spritz of some perfume Marie had given to you last Christmas that had a pleasant citrus smell. You wore a simple black blouse, black blazer with a matching black ankle-length trousers, and, surprise surprise, black loafers. You kept your closet quite minimal- easy to match especially after very little sleep. You had enough time to make a small breakfast of oatmeal and coffee with a splash of creamer and honey before heading out the door. The embassy also gave you a car- a little red Jeep CJ7. You had an hour before clocking in, so you used thirty minutes to drive around the town to get accustomed to your temporary home. After the little solo tour, you headed to work, thirty minutes early.

To be early is to be on time, and to be on time is to be late.

Those words forever haunted you. 'Thanks, Mrs. Lawson,' you thought, reminiscing the days you spent in youth orchestra as a child. As you pulled up, you noticed many others had the same motto. You headed into the building, checked in, and asked for directions. The aroma of coffee hit your nose as soon as you walked down the halls. The symphony of ringing telephones, paper shuffling, people murmuring, and the loud sipping of the brew echoed all around you. Jones was already in the briefing room when you arrived and immediately handed you three manila folders.

"Morning, agent. Ready for day one?"

"Let's get to it."

Jones was in the middle of briefing you when you heard two voices down the hall. You shook your head, telling yourself to focus on the work in front of you. There was so much information to be absorbed, and no time to be distracted, but the voices entered your space.

"Jones. We need to talk."

You turned to look at the man that spoke. Blond, blue eyes, mustached, and a scowl on his face. His nose flared as he placed his hands on his hips. Behind him was another man. You nearly dropped the files when he locked eyes with yours. Jaws slightly hanging from shock, your body froze as he pushed his way into the room.

"Y/N."

"Javi?"

#Javier Pena #javier pena x reader #Back To You #wantingtobekorra #i am not good at tumblr anymore lol it's been so long

[skyler10fic]

The Rose of Fortuna | Ch. 3 Photograph

By Skyler10

Summary: Rose Tyler officially has a crush on Sir John. :D

Tagging @doctorroseprompts for the general artist!Rose prompts we get.

Read on Ao3

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 

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The Wickshire Gazette was not the Times of London nor The Guardian by any means, but in their little community, it was still quite influential. It had taken Rose time to get used to “the way things were done” out here, but she had adjusted in large part thanks to the insights of the Gazette. While not always the most newsworthy of topics in a journalistic sense, the paper provided a window into the lives of the wealthy donors and their grandchildren who attended the university. So, in the interest of avoiding faux pas and blending in, she faithfully scrolled through headlines on the paper’s website every morning with her first coffee of the work day.

This morning, the first headline she clicked was the gallery fundraiser. She did a little fist pump at the lede: A raving success. It was primarily the success of the Gallery-on-the-Sea staff, of course, but a win for one of them was a win for all of them, especially in the tight-knit art community. She stopped scrolling as she came across photos of the party’s guests. She took in their names and faces as a refresher, committing them to memory. One in particular, she mused as she reached the one she was secretly looking for.

“Sir John Mott,” she mumbled to herself. “And his really great hair.”

Wait.

She read the caption again and sighed.

“Uh oh,” her assistant Mickey Smith popped his head in. “I know that face. What’s with the face?”

“Listen to this, from the paper about last night. ‘Sir John Mott attends the gallery fundraiser with curator Rose Tyler. Is this lovely companion the lucky one to finally catch Sir John? We wish the Tyler heiress the best on reeling him in.”

Mickey snorted out a laugh. “I told ya this wasn’t London, you know.”

“Yes, you remind me at least once a day. But honestly, first off, I’m the director, not a curator.”

Mickey mimed tipping his hat to her to tease her for caring about such a small status marker considering her much higher status apart from the gallery.

“SECONDLY, the poor man! I’m not trying to catch him like a prize fish.” Mickey was openly laughing at her now and she joined him. “Ok, yes, this is the Gazette. I’m sure he is no stranger to their writing.”

Mickey set a stack of folders on her desk with a smirk. “He grew up here. I’m sure he’s used to it by now. You, on the other hand, are totally new to media attention.”

“Alright, that’s enough. Go do whatever it is that we pay you to do here.” She waved him out of her office, but they both exchanged giggles as he closed her office door on his way out. Mickey was right. This was hardly the chaos of London. She had been naive as a teenager. She’d been raised to value people for who they were, not how much money they had. It was a rude awakening when her first, slightly older, boyfriend had just wanted to use her father’s new fortunes to boost his own music career. Unfortunately, his band had taken off and Rose had been swept up in the wild scene of rebellion and rich kids with too much time and not enough purpose in life. It had cost her father in PR and had cost her mother in worry and tears.

But that was long ago and any mild interest in her as the wild teen rags-to-riches heiress ex-girlfriend of a has-been one-hit-wonder rock star was long dead and buried. Now her new “tabloid” troubles seemed to be ones harassing the local Mr. Bingley. He certainly seemed too charming to be a Darcy, but they did say it had been a long time coming that anyone had captured his attentions.

Her Austenite musings were interrupted by the ring of her desk phone. The only people who called her office number were members of the community, so she braced for anything from a request for a recommendation letter for a promising grandson “with real artistic talent!” to a local gossip not-so-subtly trying to find out more about this photo.

Instead, the voice on the other end of the phone warmed her insides.

“This is Rose Tyler,” she answered.

“Hallo, Rose Tyler.”

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“How’re you?” She giggled at his repeated greetings.

“ I’m doing well. I just wanted to call and check in, to see if you’d, ahh, read the local newspaper. If you’re not a subscriber, there might be something I need to explain.”

“Ah. Yes, I’m a loyal reader. Every morning.”

“Blimey. Well, please know I said nothing about you being my…”

“Lovely companion?” she supplied.

“Yes. Though you are! Lovely, that is. Not my… anything.”

“Thank you. It’s quite alright. I’ve been called worse things than the companion of the town’s most eligible bachelor.” She couldn’t help but tease him. He was so teasable. She drew little invisible hearts on her computer screen with her mouse pointer.

“Right! I, that is, we were talking at the fundraiser and I invited you here...”

“And you wanted to make sure I knew you didn’t plant the suggestion in the minds of the busybodies at the Gazette that it was something unprofessional?”

“Ah, yes. Strictly professional, of course. If any sort of date it’s a professional one,” he babbled out quickly.

Rose grinned into the phone. “Alright, yeah. Professional date it is.”

“Also to finish that invitation, I’d like to show you around Mott House, if you’d like. If you like what you see, perhaps you’d consider sketching some of it, or at least encouraging a willing artist you know to do so. We could use a new website, which will require new illustrations, and printed materials to match.”

Rose sat up straighter. Not only had he not forgotten, he was following through. Very impressive.

“I’d love that. I’ve never actually been inside.”

“Really? Well then.” He hummed. “How about Friday afternoon?”

“Sounds perfect. I’ll clear my schedule.” She opened her calendar only to find it was serendipitously empty for Friday afternoon.

“I’ll send a car to the gallery.”

“Looking forward to it.”

“See you then, Rose Tyler.” He rang off, and she collapsed back into her chair with a happy sigh. While she was more on the business side and the art history side (her two degrees reminded her on the opposite wall from her desk), she had once dreamt of being an artist full-time. Her father the businessman would have none of it. He would only pay for school if she chose something practical. So business it was, accompanied by an art history degree that was somewhat coincidental, as she took enough classes in the art department that she might as well have something to show for it. Her marks were high enough in art that her parents didn’t bother her about it as long as she had a business head about it. And frankly, Rose knew her mother was just grateful she had turned out to be so studious, even if it was something “impractical,” given what her teenage school years had been like.

She had been grateful for her father’s connections to have such a career, of course, and plenty of options open for her wherever she wanted to go, but she had known she needed to get out of London. So when she turned 30, she announced she was taking the directorship in Wickshire. No one really understood but Mickey. He had been floating around London museum administration for long enough to have picked up pragmatic senses and how things work on the inside. She brought him with her, and together, they formed a new life. For him that meant meeting his fiancee, a local doctor. For Rose, a beautiful flat, a few casual friends, and hobby classes on the weekends that kept up her skills. And who knows, she dared dream as she closed out of the newspaper website, maybe someday soon, that life would include more of John.

#doctorroseprompts #ficandchips #dw fic #ten x rose AU #artist!Rose #nobility au #mickey smith #small town au #here we have rose's backstory! enjoy

[themurphyzone]

Nova Ch 4

AN: Just in time for the A!countdown! Looking forward to those sneak peeks next month! 

Ch 4: Extraterrestrial 

New Selenian Date 3015.4.21

 Though our voyage through space was more volatile than I expected, we’ve successfully approached Terra’s exosphere. Under other circumstances, it would be cause for celebration, but…

 Well, Snowball has only spoken to me for essentials during the past few days. Usually so he can update me while he raids the pantry for maza or to catch up on sleep.

Our argument has only served as a reminder that we’re not…as united in our mutual goal as much I want to believe.

It must the length of the journey. Access to only four rooms in a one week period can give anyone a serious case of cabin fever. He’ll get better once we land on Terra’s surface, I’m sure.

Signing off for now, the Brain.

o-o-o-o-o

Was it really April 21? Pinky hurried to the Mickey Mouse calendar pinned to the wall next to his cage. He really loved that picture of Mickey giving flowers to a blushing Minnie. They really were the perfect couple!

Pinky imitated Mickey’s pose, dropping down on one knee as if he was offering a bouquet of pretty daffodils…wait, no those were lilies. He rubbed his head, confused by the yellow flowers in the picture. Maybe it was the type with the really long name.

What was it again? Ah, yes! A lovely bouquet of Chris-and-his-moms for Minnie!

Egad, the picture was so pretty that he’d forgotten about the reminder he’d penciled in the box for April 21!

“Granny Smith at 9 pm?” Pinky tilted his head, trying to make sense of what he’d written. He didn’t know any grannies that well, nor did he know any Smiths. Besides, Pharfignewton was leaving the ranch tonight at 9 pm, and he was going to see her off before she was off to the races. “Poit! Oh yeah, the apple! An apple a day keeps the vets away!”

Pharfignewton needed the energy for the journey too. Kentucky was a long way from California. About nine inches according to his placemat of the United States.

Before he left, he needed to leave a response for his space pen pal. But they weren’t exactly using pens. Maybe space radio pals was better.  

Pinky went back to the Walkman. It made a bunch of crackling noises, like the Brain hadn’t turned his equipment off yet.

“Hi, the Brain!” Pinky grinned. The was such a funny first name. “Glad you could make it to Earth! Or Terra! Whatever you wanna call it! Wherever you land, I hope you and Snowball enjoy yourselves. Definitely try strawberry cheesecake sometime. It’s delicious!”

The static continued.

“Anyway, Pharfignewton’s leaving for the Kentucky Derby tonight, so I can’t chat for long. Maybe tomorrow? I’ll spend twice as much time talking to you tomorrow! Fig’s been practicing super extra hard. She’s gonna win the Derby and get that Triple Crown! That’s her dream, you know! Dreams are a wish your heart makes, zort! Cinderella said so!”

Pinky put his hand over the Walkman’s speaker. “Your dream is taking over Terra, and mine is being surrounded by cheese from around the world! Or maybe that’s just my stomach. I can never tell for sure.”

The clock chimed eight, its little pendulum swinging to and fro in a dizzying pattern.

He had to say goodbye now.

And say goodbye again later.

“Alright…well, I’ll let you go. I bet you have some important Conquesowhatsit things to do. Bye, the Brain. Glad you could make it to Terra. You and Snowball are gonna love it. Ooh, there I go again. Bye for real this time.” Pinky slowly turned the dial down, past tinny classical and pop music stations, until the Walkman was off.

Dreams were always nice, even if Pharfignewton and the Brain had to travel far away to make them come true. Pinky’s parents were probably making their own dream of eating gourmet food pellets real as well. Sis didn’t have one yet. She was still torn between professional hairdressing and getting a cooking show on Food Network, but she was young and had plenty of time to grow up.

Now that he thought about it, maybe Sis was right. He didn’t have to decide on a dream for himself yet. Well, surrounding himself with provolone, cheddar, mozzarella, camembert, and all the other yummy cheeses was still a wonderful dream for now.

“A world of cheeses, deliciously made for you and me…” Pinky sang, the air conditioner providing a nice background instrumental as he went to the breakroom to fetch Pharfignewton’s apple.

o-o-o-o-o

Carting the Granny Smith apple to the ranch took more time than Pinky imagined. Running on his wheel along with those upper body strength VHS tapes helped him for most of the trek, but there’d still been one scary moment where he’d leaned back too far to see the pretty full moon. Luckily, the apple wasn’t too bruised from tumbling downhill.

By the time Pinky arrived, Pharfignewton was already in her horse trailer. Her owner sat on a nearby bench, his brow furrowed as his thumbs tapped rapidly on his cell phone. A white pick-up truck sat in front of the trailer, though the latch to connect the vehicles hadn’t been hooked yet.

The door to Pharfignewton’s trailer was wide open, the ramp still on the ground. Delays were good. It meant he could hold off on saying goodbye a little longer.

“Fig, I got you an apple! A sweet and healthy Granny Smith!” Pinky exclaimed as he ran up the ramp. Before he could get to the top, Pharfignewton bent down and grasped the apple in her teeth, nearly chomping down on Pinky’s hands as she lifted her head. Pinky’s feet left the ground, and he gripped the apple with both hands, almost sliding off the smooth surface.

He couldn’t resist a tiny nibble. Pharfignewton wouldn’t mind.

Pinky climbed onto her muzzle just as the apple was crunched into mush. Pharfignewton whinnied in delight, her eyes shut from sheer happiness. He stroked the fur between her eyes and hummed Camptown Races because it was her favorite song. She always got excited to race when she heard it.

Pharfignewton’s hooves clopped against the floor rhythmically, her head bobbing up and down.

“-gonna run all night! Gonna run all day!” Pinky sang, grabbing her soft mane and hauling himself up. He clung to her ears for balance. “I’ll bet my money here on Fig, cause she’s gonna win this May!”  

Pharfignewton neighed, her tail raised proudly.

Her owner looked up from his phone. His bushy beard quivered as he chuckled and waved at her. A van pulled up to the curb, the window sliding down to reveal a man in a funny white cowboy hat. The owner shouted and pointed to the newcomer’s hat.

“What a fashion icon, Fig! Rodeo style hats at the Kentucky Derby. Why didn’t I think of that?” Pinky asked. “Egad, I need to make my own hat for the Derby! A derby hat! With fancy ribbons and dandelions and those little beads on sombreros!”

Cowboy Man clapped the owner on the shoulder as he climbed out of his van, the owner playfully shoving him in return. The back doors of the van were opened, and they started loading the pile of heavy feed bags and horse care equipment into the hollowed out space, trading good-natured jabs while they worked.

Pinky glanced at the starry night sky, scratching the back of Pharfignewton’s ear. “I almost forgot. The Brain made it to Terra. He said so in his message tonight. Told him he should try strawberry cheesecake. I don’t know if they have that in space.”

Pharfignewton snorted.

“Oh, you and your homemade apple strudel,” Pinky grinned. “Tell you what. Win the Triple Crown and I’ll bake the most scrumptious, most mouthwateringest apple strudel you’ve had in your life! Oh wait, no, how ‘bout I just bake it when you come back? Whenever that will be. Maybe soon?”

However long she’d be gone, Pinky hoped she’d call or write or keep in touch some other way. Well, sending a postcard might be a little tricky with hooves. How was she ever gonna apply the stamps?

Pharfignewton neighed, her front hooves knocking against the floor in worry.

“I’ll be okay, Fig. I can wait ‘til August. There’s lots of fun things to do in the summer. Like playing water polo, air hockey, capture the flag...”

Except those games all needed two players.

And while Monopoly game pieces and dominoes made for great substitutes when he couldn’t round up the checkers and marbles, it just wouldn’t be the same without Pharfignewton.

Pinky’s tail started to cramp.

He hadn’t realized he’d wrung it between his hands so hard. It wasn’t the fun sort of pain either.

Outside, the men finished loading their supplies. The van doors were shut, and Pharfignewton’s trailer was hitched to the truck.

Their boots loudly thumped against the ground with every step.

Pinky slid down Pharfignewton’s long muzzle, his feet resting against the back of her nostrils. He gripped her face and looked at those gorgeous blue eyes. They were the same shade as his turquoise crayon. He wanted to remember that.

Pinky rested his jaw on Pharfignewton’s fur, trying to keep the tiny quaver out of his voice. “Well…guess this is it, huh?” he murmured. “You have a good trip now. You’re the best racehorse I’ve ever met. Course I don’t know any other racehorses, but you’re gonna win the Derby, Fig. I know you will. Just keep in touch, ‘kay?”

She knickered softly, her breath stirring Pinky’s fur as she lowered him to the ground outside her trailer. Her breath smelled just like applesauce. She carefully rubbed the underside of her jaw against Pinky’s head, nuzzling away tears that made his vision a little blurry, then slowly raised herself to her majestic height.

“Poit. Really, Fig.” Pinky tilted his head back so the tears just pooled in his eyes instead of trailing down his cheeks. “You’ve got a dream ahead of you.”

Pharfignewton stomped her hoof.

But Pinky shook his head. True, he could go with her, but who was gonna keep his cage clean and his wheel oiled if he wasn’t around? Besides, Pharfignewton would have so many new horse friends. She was gonna be a celebrity by association.

Pinky wiped a tear away with his tail. “I don’t wanna distract you or anything. Meet someone new! Who knows? You might even be fast friends!”

Then Cowboy Man and the owner walked past, too engrossed in their conversation to notice Pinky. Pharfignewton craned her neck, trying to see above Cowboy Man while he folded the ramp. Before she could reply, her owner gently shooed her further into the trailer while Cowboy Man finished up.

Once the trailer door was shut and locked, the owner and Cowboy Man took some time to stroke Pharfignewton’s face. The window bars were wide enough to allow almost her entire muzzle through.

They promised good things for her, win or lose. She’d be eating her fill of apples and carrots for sure.

She’d be happy out there, running like the wind to her heart’s content.  

Ten minutes later, Cowboy Man drove away in his supply van. Pharfignewton’s owner started up the truck.

Pinky quickly climbed up a fencepost and waved to Pharfignewton, wishing he’d brought along a handkerchief to blow his nose into or flutter in the air like a proper movie goodbye.

Pharfignewton stretched her neck as far as she could.

“Bye! Adios! Sayonara!” Pinky called, cupping his hands as the truck slowly inched onto the side road’s pavement. The trailer turned slightly with the movement, and Pinky quickly hopped to a fencepost within Pharfignewton’s line of sight.

She looked happy enough to get the show on the road, but her whinnies were still worried.

He had to cheer her up! She couldn’t travel to Kentucky with that frowny face!

“Camptown ladies! Sing this song! Narf!” Pinky panted, taking only a moment to catch his breath, the song choppy as he ran the length of the fence. But even with the truck’s slow crawl, he couldn’t keep up, and the truck disappeared over the hill, pulling the trailer and Pharfignewton along with it.

He didn’t slow down in time. Pinky stumbled over the last fencepost and fell into the springy grass below. The thud knocked his breath away for just a moment, but he shook it off quickly.

It was nothing really.

“Camptown racetrack’s fi-five thousand miles away…”

Pharfignewton shouldn’t worry.

He had the small, boxy TV that the lab couldn’t afford to upgrade to a flat screen. The NBC channel always showed the Derby.

And it was enough for him.

o-o-o-o-o

Had the stars always been that far away? They seemed much lonelier than usual.

Pinky tilted his head as far as he could, taking in the navy sky above. There was no moon and no way to spot the Brain’s old home tonight. He was probably somewhere on Earth by now.

Paris was nice at this time of year. Maybe the Brain would get all the cheese and baguettes he could eat. The city of light and love was absolutely splendid and heavenly. Pinky had never been there, but the landscape seemed so pretty at night in Ratatouille. Parisian rodents must be excellent chefs. Pinky would have to find one someday.

If only he could walk into a giant cabinet that would magically transport him to a riverboat cruise on the Seine. He’d only gotten a mouthful of cobweb the last time he’d tried that.

Oh dear.

Pinky twirled in place, taking in the enormous apartment complex to his left and the grassy hillside across the street, both of which he didn’t recognize.

“Narf! Silly me.” Pinky bonked his fist against his noggin, leaving a slight ache behind.  “One of these days, I’ll definitely remember that ol’ left turn on Albuquerque Street!”

Well, the only thing he had to do was retrace his steps.

But he didn’t have sidewalk chalk or a pencil.

Pinky scratched his head. This was a lot harder than he thought. He was outside, so he couldn’t exactly follow the left wall of the maze until he got un-lost.

His stomach growled, and he had a sudden craving for between-twilight-and-midnight food pellets.

“Hush now, tummy. You’ll get your food pellets as soon as I find the lab again,” Pinky said, patting his growling belly.

A bowl of smoked food pellets seasoned with paprika and rosemary sounded good right about now. With a side of smoked cheddar too!

Pinky laughed. “You’ve really got a craving for smoked food, tummy! Can’t blame you there. Those smoked chicken wings on Food Network were absolutely mouthwatering yesterday. I’m so hungry I can smell those food pellets!”

And the food pellets smelled delicious indeed.

Pinky took a deep whiff, standing on his tippy-toes to drink it all in.

Until the scent changed and it smelled more oily than the yummy sort of smoke.

Pinky’s nose wrinkled. A faint plume of smoke rose from behind the grassy hill, but it was still a little early in the year for anyone to hold a campfire sing-along with s’mores.

There didn’t seem to be a fire. Or slightly burnt marshmallows for that matter.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Pinky crossed the street at the crosswalk because he was a good pedestrian and not a jaywalker. That was just silly. He was a mouse, not a blue jay.

He ran to the top of the hill and perched on a tree root, heels rocking back and forth for a moment until he found his balance. Then his jaw dropped at the sight of a gray and silver futuristic-y UFO just beyond the hill’s base. It had to be the size of two cages combined, maybe a little more.

He wasn’t really good at judging size, but the UFO thingy was ginormous.

Dirt piled high around its battered surface, like it plowed right into the ground at Pharfignewton-like speeds. Smoke trailed from two long cylinders that arched above its back, though there were no flames.

At least Smokey the Bear wouldn’t have to worry about any wildfires.

Pinky approached the wreckage, circling it twice out of sheer fascination. He didn’t see any string though. No wonder the UFO crashed. It didn’t have any string to hold it up.

“Hello, Mr. Alien!” Pinky shouted, hoping his voice carried through the metal to whoever was inside. He leaned against the UFO with both hands, placing all his body weight on his tiptoes. It felt great. He hadn’t stretched his shoulders like this in a while. All his focus had been going to strengthening his thighs recently. “I just wanted to let you know that your UFO string is missing! But it’s okay! I have an extra long ball of yarn back at the lab! Will that do?”

There was no response, though Pinky heard a plip-plop of dripping water when he pressed his ear against the UFO.

Suddenly, the metal hissed and shifted under his palms.

“Narf!” Pinky yelped as he pitched forward into the opening. His jaw thwacked against the floor, and he giggled at the tingly sensations that shot to the top of his head.

Propping himself onto his elbows, Pinky found himself in a room that was just as big on the inside as it seemed on the outside. Except everything seemed a little smashed up. Broken computers tilted against one wall, the screens cracked and displaying a random string of numbers and letters.

Orange soda dripped from an open panel to his left, forming a bubbly puddle on the floor. Pinky almost drank it, but figured it was a terrible idea because of the little metal bits mixed in. Orange soda went with pizza, not metal.

Pinky stood up and dusted himself off, then walked over to what seemed to be a smashed-up bedframe. There was an upturned mattress and a crumpled white blanket next to it. When he tried to turn them over and arrange them into a less messy position, he found they were rather scratchy and definitely uncomfortable for sleeping in. Whoever used this bed must’ve woken up every morning with a backache the size of Alaska.

As he tucked the last corner of the blanket into the mattress, several tiny blue things slipped out from the folds and bounced off his foot. When Pinky glanced down, he found there were a lot of tiny blue things scattered throughout the room.

He picked one up out of curiosity.

No, it wasn’t a thing. More like a tiny blue star. He touched it with his tongue, a sweet flavor taking over his taste buds entirely. It really packed a wallop. His tongue hadn’t felt this tingly since the time he’d eaten two entire packs of lemonheads! He popped several more tiny stars into his mouth, hugging himself from sheer bliss.

For a moment, it seemed like there was another voice agreeing with him on how fantastically delicious these tiny stars were.

Then it cut into a low groan, which didn’t sound like someone enjoying a snack at all. Pinky quickly swallowed the tiny stars and listened for the source of the noise.

“Narf! Hello?” Pinky called. “Are you an alien ghost? Or a ghost alien, Mr. Alien?”

Another groan. Maybe Mr. Alien didn’t know how to play Twenty Questions.

One of the computers shifted and crashed onto its side, a blue screen flickering in and out of existence. Parts of the splintered bedframe laid among the mess. A small, black-gloved hand poked out from among the tangled wires before falling limp again.

Pinky poked the hand.

It twitched.

“Awful hard to sleep under all those wires, don’t you think?” Pinky asked. “I mean, it would be so electric-y under there! Unless you’re an android ghost alien! Electric sheep only works for androids, I think. The rest of us count woolly, fluffy sheep.”

The mass of wires trembled, the hand closing around Pinky’s wrist. Though it was probably meant to be a tight grasp, it wasn’t a very good hold. A single movement could shake off the alien’s hand.

But Pinky stayed still. Something didn’t seem quite right.

The alien lifted his head, a pair of antennae with bouncy red orbs perking slightly.  

Antennae was a good name now that he thought about it.

“N-no’all?” Antennae murmured, the wires slipping off his large, chubby head. His bleary pink eyes stared through Pinky with desperate hope. Soot stained his messy fur with varying shades of gray, his pointed ears drooping and floppy.

“Poit. Do you not speak English?” Pinky asked. Antennae continued to stare, not seeming to understand. “I could get my language book from the lab. It’s got Spanish, French, Sea Lion, and Legalese! I’m learning a lot! Maybe it’s got your language too?”

Then Pinky snapped his fingers. Why hadn’t he thought of this sooner? “Wait, no! Maybe kissing would be much faster? That way my English flows into your mouth and voicebox! Is that how it works? I’m pretty sure that’s how it works…”

Antennae’s grip tightened, his lower half writhing in the wires until he shook himself free. From the neck down, he wore a sleek black bodysuit with red highlights that really made the color of his antennae and tail orbs pop.

Egad, he was tiny. Even Antennae’s antennae barely rose above Pinky’s chin.

Something green and golden glinted in the hand that wasn’t holding onto Pinky. Antennae stumbled as he got to his feet, wincing as he tried to put his weight on his heels. His eyes widened in panic, and he quickly let go Pinky, breathing rapidly as he wrapped both hands around the weapon’s handle.

Balancing on his toes, he shakily pointed the weapon at Pinky. He was trying to shove the red bulb into Pinky’s nose, which was a little rude to be honest, but couldn’t do much more than a light tap.  

“Are you okay?” Pinky asked, lifting his head so the bulb wasn’t smushing his nose. “Soot’s not really good for your complexion. Gives you all sorts of pimples and zits. That’s what Dr. Oz says, anyway.”

There were several clicks as Antennae repeatedly pulled a switch on the handle, but nothing happened. It clearly wasn’t working the way he expected. He growled in frustration, lowering his weapon and opening a compartment along the top. Then his eyes flicked to the puddle of orange soda on the floor and back to Pinky.

For the first time, Antennae noticed all the tiny blue stars that littered the ground. He whipped around in surprise, staring since he still didn’t understand, but the sudden movement made him lose his balance. Pinky caught him by the arm before he fell flat on his face.

The weapon slipped out of his grip, clattering to the floor. He cried out and swung his crooked tail into Pinky’s side.

“Zort!” Pinky yelped, more from the literal shock he’d received, than actual pain. His fur stood on end, like he’d just rubbed a balloon against it. When he pressed it down again, several tingling tickles lingered on his hand, making him giggle.

When he looked up, Antennae had limped over to the damaged remains of a shelf. But even walking across the room was too much, and he collapsed again.

The bodysuit had rips along the heels, exposing several painful looking cuts. Pinky couldn’t blame him for trying to stay on his tiptoes, even if it was a very awkward way to walk.

Antennae needed help. Pinky would have to carry him to the lab.

Pinky followed. He knelt and picked up Antennae, who weighed only slightly more than the small batteries Pinky liked to use as weights, since dumbbells were unfortunately too large for him. Antennae loosely held a baggie of the tiny stars close to his chest. There were several ripped baggies surrounding them. This seemed to be the only one that remained whole.

Cradling his head and back, Pinky set the baggie on top of Antennae’s chest, making sure the baggie was sandwiched between them before he set off.

Antennae’s head lolled against Pinky’s neck. The antennae orbs lit up with tiny sparks for just a moment, though Pinky didn’t get another burst of static. They faded back to a normal red within a few seconds.

He seemed…almost relaxed. At least his face wasn’t scrunched anymore.

As Pinky exited the UFO with his bundle, something bonked into the back of his head.

“Ouch!” Pinky nearly dropped Antennae and baggie in surprise. A tiny camera with a spinning propellor zipped into the night sky, recovering from its collision course quickly.

Some sort of alien tech too otherworldly for a regular genetically altered Earth mouse to understand? Pinky longed to ask, but he didn’t want to disturb Antennae.

Besides, he looked adorably pudgy while he slept.

Antennae made a small noise in the back of his throat, but he didn’t seem to be waking up anytime soon.

The camera didn’t matter as much. Not when he just discovered that aliens snored.  

Pinky set off for the lab, determined to get the directions right this time.  

o-o-o-o-o

Good thing the dark, narrow alley filled with dirty cardboard boxes had been there! Pinky never would’ve known it was a shortcut to the lab if it hadn’t been for that stray cat. It was a miracle that Antennae hadn’t woken up once, or that the baggie survived the chase without any rips or spilling tiny stars.

The cat had given up the chase, deciding that whatever was in the dumpster would be more of a yummy meal.

Really, Pinky didn’t imagine he’d taste too good. He tried to lick his elbow a few times and all he got was a mouthful of fur.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to try to climb up to the mail slot. The door was slightly ajar, just enough for him to squeeze past, even with Antennae’s chubby head.  

Pinky shifted his hold to one arm, then grabbed the handle of the nearest drawer to pull them up to the counter. He had to set the baggie down, but Pinky could easily grab it once Antennae was settled comfortably in the cage.

It took a few unsuccessful tries of hauling himself up while holding onto Antennae before he realized it wasn’t going to work.

“Psst, Antennae,” Pinky hummed, gently shaking the alien’s shoulder. It would be a lot easier if Antennae clung to his back. “Wakey-wakey…”

Antennae’s face scrunched again, then he yawned and nuzzled into Pinky’s chest instead.

He looked so peaceful. It would go against Pinky’s little shoulder angel to wake him up now. What had he been thinking?

After a few minutes of searching through bottom drawers, Pinky found a soft kitchen sponge that hadn’t been removed from its packaging yet. It would make a perfect bed. Pinky pulled it out of the package, carefully maneuvering it out of the drawer while trying not to jostle Antennae too much.  

Another drawer had several white, fluffy hand towels. They seemed clean enough, so Pinky slung two towels over his free shoulder and climbed out.

He laid one of the towels on the floor, then pushed the sponge on top. Cold feet weren’t fun in the morning nor in show business. Then he laid Antennae on the sponge and covered him with the second towel.

Antennae’s hand clung to Pinky’s fur, so Pinky loosened the grip and tucked the wayward hand under the towel.

“You’ll be alright,” Pinky whispered, stretching out his sore arms. Maybe he’d carried Antennae for a bit too long. But Pinky’s arms would be ready for more wheel-running tomorrow.

Now that both of his hands were free, Pinky grabbed a bandage roll which had been lying near a Bunsen burner. He’d have to thank Mr. Bunsen for letting him borrow these bandages later.

Pinky carefully removed the socks – maybe they were more shoes? Oh, well. He removed the shoe-socks from Antennae’s feet and laid them on the towel-rug. Since Antennae hadn’t been on his feet since the UFO, the cuts seemed to be healing just fine.

Pinky carefully bandaged the heels and folded the towel-blanket over Antennae’s feet once he was finished. Then he brought the baggie of tiny stars over and placed them next to the shoe-socks.

He climbed up to the counter briefly to wash his hands, humming Happy Birthday as he lathered with the honey-scented soap.

“Thank you, Silver’s Anatomy,” Pinky said to the TV remote, which teetered over the edge of the VCR. He turned to Mr. Button, still lying on his straw bed in the cage. “Sorry, Mr. Button. I’m sleeping elsewhere tonight. Here, you can have Nicholas so you won’t be lonely. Try not to keep him up too late, okay?”

He rolled Nicholas the Nickel into the cage and settled him near Mr. Button. They seemed happy. Mr. Button would no doubt be gossiping about the ballpoint pens again.  

Pinky yawned and went back to the floor. It had been an eventful day, and he was very tired.

The towel-rug seemed very inviting…

Pinky buried his face into the towel fluff. Antennae had been twitching throughout Pinky’s counter business, but he stilled again once Pinky curled up.

Pinky fell asleep, dreaming of cheese and Pharfignewton and a deep, faraway voice. It was a lovely dream, except the voice couldn’t join Pinky and Pharfignewton in their little cheese and apple picnic. It seemed unwilling. Pinky made sure to save a few slices of cheddar and provolone for him. Maybe he’d take it afterward.

o-o-o-o-o

When the sunlight hit his eyes, Pinky leapt with joy. Early wheel runs were the best! So were mid-morning runs, and noon runs, and evening runs!

Except he couldn’t move. He could still wiggle his fingers and toes, but his hands were tied behind his back, purple yarn binding his ankles as well. His entire tail was still free though. He swished his tail just to be sure.

He shimmied over to the drawer and pressed his back against it, managing to sit up. Though he wanted to run on his wheel, being tied up was a fun game too.

Antennae wasn’t on the sponge bed though. Where was he? He was missing out!

Pinky wondered if he should just untie himself and find Antennae. The knots didn’t seem that hard. Though it was hard to tell for sure if it was a slipknot or an overhand knot. He really should’ve paid attention in knot-tying class.

Five minutes later, Antennae stomped over in his ripped shoe-socks, though little strips of bandage poked out.

Pinky smiled. If Antennae was stomping, his feet must be healing fast. And then he’d be okay again.  

However, Antennae didn’t seem to think so.

“Wipe that ridiculous expression from your face, Terran,” Antennae scowled, his foot tapping impatiently. “Hand over all the information you know. I want answers, and I want them now.”  

AN note: I’d like to give credit to @pluto-art for her wonderful drawing of Brain as a cute little alien.  With the way she posed him, I knew I wanted to incorporate that somewhere and this chapter seemed like a good place to do it! I meant to credit her last chapter for the blaster idea but I forgot so I’m rectifying that now.  

Fig’s off to the races! Literally.

After the wringer I stuck him through last chapter, Brain seriously needed some cuddles. He’s a little touch-starved. Also, he’s a bad guest. Don’t tie your friend up, Brain. That’s just rude.

#patb nova #pinky and the brain #a!countdown #patb fanfiction

[saiilorstars]

The Beginning of Everything

Ch. 27:  The Vortex Butterfly

// Story Masterlist //

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 10th Doctor x Female OC

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

Chapter summary: The final battle against the Daleks is coming to an end and with it comes the Vortex Butterfly. People are lost and those remaining are still fractured. When it's all over, Renata and the Doctor must decide what to do with themselves.

As soon as the new Doctor had figured out what the Daleks planned to do, he set to work with the tools he had in the TARDIS. He'd been working fairly fast considering the enormous pressure there was to get things right and working.

"Doctor - or whatever you name is - what are you doing!?" Gabby was so tired of watching the man circle the console without uttering a word to her or Donna. For all they knew, he could be making a toaster.

"This is our only hope!" the Doctor promised her and made a nod at his device that was coming together. "A Z-Neutrino biological inversion catalyser."

"Yeah, Earth-girls remember?" Donna nearly tapped the side of his head to make a point.

"Davros said he built those Daleks out of himself. His genetic code runs through the entire race. If I can use this to lock the Crucible's transmission onto Davros himself…"

"It destroys the Daleks?"

"Biggest backfire in history," the Doctor grinned mischievously.

"That's great," Gabby was truly grinning from ear to ear, but she raised her glowing purple hands to bring up another matter they hadn't truly solved yet. "Now what do I do about this!?"

The Doctor wearily eyed her hands. "Keep 'em...away…"

Gabby wasn't remotely amused. "Am I going to die like Renata? Is that what this is? You said I'm the Cosmic Butterfly and that Renata is the Vortex Butterfly, but what does that mean really? What can I do with this? Will it kill me?"

"I don't - I don't know the implications it'll have on your biology," the Doctor admitted. "But right now it might be a really good weapon against the Daleks." Gabby wasn't really sure how to feel about being a 'weapon' against alien threats. "And as for Renata? The energy inside her is far too strong, it could be killing her as we speak."

Gabby gulped and glanced at Donna. What could either of them do from where they were? Gabby didn't know the answer but she knew that she had to do something to save her. Ever since they met, Renata had done nothing but try to keep Gabby safe. Even when things were terrible, Renata always strove to keep Gabby out of harm's way. Gabby couldn't - and wouldn't - let that happen. She had the power in her fingertips to stop it, to at least help. She didn't care if it would contaminate her too or if it would kill her. The Doctor may be right in that she was a weapon they could use against the Daleks.

"What do I need to do?"

The Doctor eyed her for a second, deciding whether or not she was being honest and if she could actually do it. She gave a nod as if she'd read his mind.

"You draw your power - so they say - from your emotions, from what you feel. Take all of that and focus it on what you want to do."

Gabby nodded fast, her eyes wandering around the room. Right now all she could think of was Renata and the Doctor. They were both in such terrible danger and even then Renata was getting the worst of it. Her energy was swallowing her whole and just the thought of Renata dying terrified Gabby - she felt her world would crumble.

Flames began to rise from her fingers and when she noticed it, she knew exactly what to do.

~ 0 ~

Renata had gained a better sense of balance again, but it didn't stop the deep fatigueness she felt. Her energy - the vortex, apparently - had stopped randomly bursting from her but every now and then it would still burst. Even if they weren't strong explosions, she could still feel it bubbling inside her.

She touched the prison wall around her and watched its ripples mix with her golden energy. "Maybe...this isn't all bad," she whispered so that the Doctor could hear. "What if I use this - whatever it is - to our advantage?"

"Don't do anything, I'm begging you," the Doctor was so tired of asking her the same thing. He was afraid that each time the energy burst from her, it would be the last one she would be able to endure. "Just...just sit." Renata shook her head but before she could verbally refuse, they heard a familiar voice coming through a comms in the room.

"This is Martha Jones representing the Unified Intelligence Taskforce on behalf of the Human Race. Can you hear me?"

Renata stumbled forwards, her face hitting the wall not so kindly. "Martha! Is that really Martha!?"

Martha Jones finally came to appear in a screen for them. "This message is for the Dalek Crucible. Repeat: can you hear me?"

"Martha?" the Doctor could smile enough to see she was alright and unharmed, so far.

"It begins as Dalek Caan foretold," Davros announced, but neither the Doctor nor Renata paid him attention.

"The Children of Time will gather... and one of them will die!"

"Would you stop saying that! Put me through!" ordered the Doctor.

The communication became a two-way and Martha seemed relieved to see them again, although she immediately got concerned over Renata's frail appearance. She paid very bit of her attention to Rose, considering her priorities. "Ren? What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, just get to the point," Renata made a gesture as best as possible.

"State your intent," Davros commanded Martha and Martha was happy to do so.

Martha raised her hand to show she held a strange key. "I've got the Osterhagen Key. Leave this planet and its people alone, or I'll use it."

"Osterhagen what? What's an Osterhagen Key?" the Doctor inquired, a bit offended that he had no idea what the thing was when UNIT created it. They were supposed to inform him every now and then.

"There's a chain of twenty-five nuclear warheads placed in strategic points beneath the Earth's crust. If I use the key, they detonate and the Earth gets ripped apart."

The noise that came out of Renata was piercing. She was appalled at such a creation. "What do you mean!? Martha Jones! Are you insane?!"

Martha was in a visible struggle with her duty and her morals, but she didn't stop until she got everything out that she needed to say. "The Osterhagen Key is to be used if the suffering of the Human Race is so great, so without hope... that this becomes the final option."

"That's never an option!" yelled the Doctor.

"Don't argue with me, Doctor," Martha snapped, further surprising him. "Cos there's more than that. Now, I reckon the Daleks need these twenty-seven planets for something, but what if it becomes twenty-six? What happens then? Daleks? Would you risk it?"

Rose had to admit where she saw a good job, because not just anyone could threaten the Daleks with such good content. "She's good." Of course neither the Doctor nor Renata would agree with her.

"Who's that?" Martha finally gave Rose the decent attention to be interested in her.

"My name's Rose. Rose Tyler."

Martha froze but her eyes immediately found Renata's. The Time Lady gave a confirming nod, but she made it clear that she was just fine with it.

Suddenly, the screen divided itself into two squares. Jack's face flashes next to Martha's and he was holding a peculiar necklace in hand. Sarah Jane, Jackie Tyler, and Mickey Smith were right behind him.

"Captain Jack Harkness calling all Dalek boys and girls!" Jack exclaimed rather loudly with a grin that promised greatness. "Are you receiving me? Don't send in your goons or I'll set this thing off."

Now it was Rose's turn to nearly fall over. "He's still alive!?" she squinted her eyes though when she saw Jackie behind him. "Oh, my God, that's- that's my mum!"

"And Mickey," the Doctor added. "Captain, what are you doing?"

"I've got a Warp Star wired into the mainframe. I break the shell... the entire Crucible goes up."

The Doctor looked between Martha and Jack - and those behind Jack - as if they'd all gone mad, and perhaps they had. "You can't! Where did you get a Warp Star?!"

"Wrong question," Renata shook her. "I can't believe they have the courage to do that - wrong courage, but...courage nonetheless." Although it honestly startled her that these humans had the boldness to do what not everyone could.

"It's mine, Doctor," Sarah Jane spoke up. "We had no choice, we saw what happened to the prisoners."

"Impossible. That face... after all these years…" Davros seemed truly surprised to see Sarah Jane on the screen.

Sarah Jane couldn't say the same. Her eyes narrowed on the man - creature - and a cold glare took her over. "That's been quite a while. Sarah Jane Smith. Remember?"

"Oh, this is meant to be. The Circle of Time is closing!" Davros exclaimed. "You were there on Skaro at the very beginning of my creation."

"And I've learned how to fight since then. You let the Doctor go or this Warp Star - it gets opened!"

"I'll do it," Jack raised the Warp Star a bit more and tweaked it to prepare it. "Don't imagine I wouldn't."

"Now, that's what I call a ransom," Rose chuckled, feeling just a bit more on the optimistic side. The Daleks wouldn't let their precious plan fall to bits if they could help it.

"And the prophesy unfolds," Davros said, pulling Rose out of her thoughts to notice the Doctor's downcasted gaze.

"The Doctor's soul is revealed! See him! See the heart of him!" Dalek Caan cackled deliriously, taunting the silent Doctor.

"Oh shut it you tin can!" Renata unexpectedly snapped. She knew exactly what they were trying to do to the Doctor and even if she was trapped inside a prison cell, she wouldn't allow it.

"The man who abhors violence, never carrying a gun. But this is the truth, Doctor," Davros wheeled himself closer to the Doctor who refused to look up from the ground. "You take ordinary people and you fashion them into weapons. Behold your Children of Time transformed into murderers. I made the Daleks, Doctor. You made this."

"What the - no!" Renata shouted again, more furious than before. "No one makes people into anything! You change them, yes, but their core remains the same."

The Doctor could appreciate her attempt to make him look better but he knew what he was, he always knew. Wherever he went, destruction followed. Even Renata herself had been caught in his trail. He gave her the worst ultimatum back on that horrible night before his wedding, and made her miserable for the rest of her lives. And after her...he couldn't even count the lives he'd destroyed because he turned them into people who didn't care for their own lives. They would use themselves as bait, go farther than they ever would because they met him.

It was all true.

And even if Renata tried to sweeten the darkness, he couldn't believe it. She shouldn't have to waste her breath - which was already numbered - on him. "Renata-"

"No!" she snapped at him without a single second of hesitation. "You are many things, Doctor, but I'm not letting these murderers bring you down with them! As if!" The golden Vortex began to dance around her body again, growing stronger the angrier she rambled on. "These humans-" she made a quick gesture to the screen where she had a good captive audience, "-are trying to save their world by any means necessary, even if it means destroying it! And yes, they are completely wrong!" She specifically looked up at the screens, making sure that each and every one of them looked her in her hard eyes. It was as if their mother was giving them a lecture, and it was a strange feeling for those who hadn't even met her. "But they made their choices! Not the Doctor!"

"Ren, calm down," Martha could see the light around her friend's body starting again.

"NO!" Renata frantically said. "And stop telling me to calm down! I'm not calming down! I've had it!"

"You make nice speeches, Time Lady-" Davros began but she wasn't quite finished yet.

"-my name-" she pounded a fist against her prison wall, "-is Renata! Learn it because as soon as I get out of here, I'm going to end you!"

"Renée, enough!" the Doctor turned to her. His anger had finally broken through his seal of silence but even though a part was directed at her, it wasn't for the same reason. He wouldn't let her further destroy her morals for him. Not her.

"There is no point in denying the truth," Davros insisted. "Already, I have seen them sacrifice today for their beloved Doctor. The Earth woman who fell opening the subwave network."

"Who was that?" the Doctor asked, momentarily curious of who else he could've destroyed that he wasn't remembering. That's how many...he couldn't even remember all of them!

"Harriet Jones," Rose answered quietly, closing her eyes when she remembered the terrible way Harriet had died after opening the Subway network for them. "She gave her life to get you here."

"How many more? Just think," Davros called to the Doctor again, nearing his prison hold. "How many have died in your name?"

"Doctor, don't," Renata knew that he was going to start thinking about the people he'd lost along the way. He just would. He was too guilty to ever forget them like that.

And as he realized before, the Doctor lost count along the way. He remembered many faces, each dying to save him and whoever else happened to be around. He always tried making the tough calls but someone always wanted to be brave - to prove themselves to him that they were just as brave as he was - and it always resulted in death. It followed him because that's who he was, that's who he was at his core. He could never stay still and people around him paid the price for it.

He barely held himself together once the weight of it truly fell over his shoulders, but the Daleks had won: they'd broken him. They made him face his reality and made him look at himself.

And Davros knew it too. "The Doctor... the man who keeps running, never looking back, because he dare not, out of shame. This is my final victory, Doctor. I have shown you... yourself."

"STOP!" Renata screamed and released the brightest energy she had yet to reveal. Her fists pounded endlessly against the prison walls, one after the other and stronger than the previous.

"Renata!" the Doctor swore he could see cuts against her fists from the constant hits against the wall, but she just wouldn't stop. "Renata!"

She cried and banged the walls with everything she had. The Vortex wouldn't fade this time either - it was actually cutting through the walls. The Daleks had prepared for the Doctor alright, but not the Vortex Butterfly.

"It's the Crucible... or the Earth!" Martha called when she felt it was the right time to really tighten the Daleks.

But the Daleks had other plans. They teleported Martha and Jack, along with everyone else who had tagged along. They all dropped into the Vault without their threatening weapons.

"Don't move!" the Doctor was quick to shout at them. "All of you, stay still!"

"But Renata!" Martha had gotten up from the floor fairly fast and ran towards her friend who was still crying against her cell.

"No, Martha!" the Doctor helplessly banged against his own prison hold to stop the woman.

Renata's cell cracked with the Vortex seeping through until it finally shattered. The force of it blew Martha back, throwing her body onto the floor. Renata's own body fell forwards after the blast. Jack only went to Martha because she was closest, but it didn't keep the Doctor from yelling for Renata to wake up. He crashed his body against his prison, much like Renata had, until his head got woozy from so many hits.

"Doctor, you have to stop that!" Rose called to him when he looked ready to pass out.

"You will all surrender," a Dalek warned the group as it and a few other Daleks came towards them.

Jack looked back at Sarah Jane, Mickey and Jackie, nodding for them to stay down. There was no winning now. Renata, however, slowly blinked awake. She scanned the area in her spot, without moving, and decided to wait for the right moment.

"The final prophecy is in place. The Doctor and his children all gathered as witnesses. Supreme Dalek... the time has come!" Davros' voice practically shook with excitement. "Now...Detonate the Reality Bomb!"

The knobs of the Reality Bomb started working again, giving the twenty seven planets their strong glow.

"Davros, you can't!" the Doctor crashed his body one more time against his prison hold. "Just listen to me! Just STOP!"

"Nothing can stop the detonation! Nothing! And no-one!"

Renata had barely flexed her left hand when she and the others began to hear a familiar, but completely impossible, wheezing noise. She'd been feeling so tired but now there was a small spot, somewhere inside, that felt a bit different. It was small but it sparked something...

The TARDIS appeared, looking as if nothing ever happened to it. It was the only thing that stopped the Doctor from repeatedly hurting himself against his prison. "But that's…"

"Impossible," Davros barely contained his shout.

The TARDIS settled into a nice spot and opened its doors, letting out a blinding light that could rival Renata's. The new Doctor bolted from the TARDIS with his device ready to go.

"What - don't!" the original Doctor cried despite not knowing - at that moment - how there was another copy of him.

Davros got over his shock and acted fast. With one pointed finger, he put a stop to the new Doctor's plan with a jet of electricity. He collapsed on the floor, not seriously injured but there would still be bruises.

"Activate holding cell," Davros instructed and a brand new prison hold appeared around the new man.

"Doctor!" Donna rushed out next and immediately saw the lost device on the floor. She snatched it before anything else could. "I've got it! But I don't know what to do!"

Donna became the next victim. The same electric jet of energy hit her and blew her against the TARDIS.

"Destroy the weapon!"

The Doctor called for Donna but there was no response from the woman, wherever it was she landed.

"Wait, how come there's two of you now?" Rose couldn't stop blinking. It was as if she was trying to see if blinking fast would erase the second DOctor.

"Human biological metacrisis. Never mind that, now we've got no way of stopping the Reality Bomb."

"Wouldn't say that." Gabby appeared out of the TARDIS with a strong purple glow around her and a pair of two swirling, purple butterfly wings behind her. She didn't take a second to think about the consequences, she just acted. She thrust her left hand forwards and shot directly at Davros. A streak of purple butterflies swarmed their way towards the man.

"Attack!" he cried before the butterflies could read him.

"NO!" the Doctor went into another state of panic. The Reality Bomb was back on and now they also had to watch Gabby die all over again?

Gabby brought her wings over her body as a shield - how that happened, she wouldn't be able to explain - but the same wings, only in purple, flapped in front of her. In her mind, there was only one thing: save her friends.

Renata was finally back and she had an icy cold glare on her face, despite the warmth she felt from the Vortex emanating around her. "Not her!" her voice would make anyone wince, and it did. "You-" her wings flapped to create a force of wind laced with golden energy, "-stay-" flap!, "-away-" another flap, "-from her!" Golden swirls fired from her wings and hit the incoming Daleks.

"Detonation in twenty rels! Nineteen…" the Supreme Dalek's voice began to echo through all the rooms in the Crucible.

"Renata!" the Doctor vainlessly called for her. He was terribly scared for her and for the planets. He didn't know whether or not to be ashamed of the fact he couldn't decide which scared him more. "Renata, stop!"

But Renata, whether she heard him or not, thrust one hand after the other and split as many Daleks as she could. Gabby followed in her footsteps and cut through the Daleks that would near her. The Vortex Butterfly had come to life and was going to do whatever it took to keep her loved ones safe. Beautiful golden flames surrounded around her, contrasting the darkness she felt inside her knowing the battle that was upon them. She led the Cosmic Butterfly, her faithful companion, into the land of battle. One powered by the Vortex and the other by cosmic energy, the Daleks would never stand a chance.

"Exterminate!" Renata could hear dozens of them but she felt an incredible surge of power that she wanted to take full advantage of.

"Nine... eight... seven... six…"

Donna blinked awake and, like Gabby and Renata, she immediately knew there was something different about her. A heavy load of power dropped on her, but not in the same way as it had on Renata and Gabby.

"What is going on!?" Martha breathed in at the sight of her best friend taking down Daleks like there was no tomorrow while doing it with butterfly wings.

"The Vortex Butterfly and the Cosmic Butterfly are born," Dalek Caan laughed loudly enough to go over the streaks of energy. "But can they survive?"

"Shut up!" the Doctor practically bellowed at the deranged Dalek.

"Five... four... three... two... one.."

The entire group waited, even both Renata and Gabby had finally stopped once the Daleks in the Vault were dead, to see the end of all creation. They were mighty confused when nothing of the sort happened.

"Oh... closing all Z-Neutrino relay loops using an internalised synchronous back-feed reversal loop!" Donna triumphantly, and rather confidently, flicked a switch from a control panel. "That button there!"

"Donna, you can't even change a plug!" the Doctor didn't know what was going on but he couldn't stop smiling. She looked absolutely at home working the controls.

Donna winked at him. "Do you wanna bet, Time Boy?"

"You will suffer for this!" Davros warned her, but Donna scoffed.

"Sure!" she went for another switch on the control panel and electrocuted Davros. "Oh...! Bioelectric dampening field with a retrogressive arc inversion."

"Alright Donna!" Rose laughed.

The Vault opened its doors to let more Daleks in. Renata raised her hands, taking aim, and prompted Gabby to do the same.

"Bring it," Gabby flexed her fingers. The energy around her was amazing. She wasn't in pain and even though she couldn't control it all so well, she just knew that this could be used for good, not murdering as the new Doctor had said. Plus, she was thinking differently too and she didn't know what that meant! It was as if her brain had opened to new ideas, to new possibilities - different angles to look from!

"I got it, ladies!" Donna called from her spot and somehow powered down the Daleks' blaster-guns. "Weapons non-functional!" She smirked at everyone's confused stares. "What? Macrotransmission of a K-filter wavelength blocking Dalek weaponry in a self-replicating energy blindfold matrix?"

The Doctor's mouth had fallen open in honest, thorough, shock. "How did you work that out? You…"

"Time Lord. Part Time Lord," the new Doctor said a d for a brief moment they shared a silent, knowing look between them.

Donna didn't notice it. Why would she? She was having the time of her life saving the world - worlds! "Part Human! Oh, yes! That was a two-way biological metacrisis. Half Doctor... half Donna!"

"The Doctor-Donna…" Renata realized, thinking back to the Old planet they visited a while ago. "It was just like the Ood said." She turned her head at the Doctor, her Doctor. "It came true." He knew what she was trying to say: if they got that bit right then her prediction was going to come true as well.

He shook his head. Never.

"Holding cells deactivated!" Donna cheered for herself as the holding cells disappeared.

As soon as he was free, the Doctor dashed for Renata. He was about to hold her - or attempt to hug, whichever one felt better - when her wings flapped menacingly.

"Don't touch me," she warned him.

"Ren-"

"-the job is not done. More are coming," Renata turned away from him, head tilting towards the closed doors at the end.

"Ren?" Martha was back on her feet thanks to Jack. She cautiously approached Renata but the Doctor barred her from getting too close. There was something else in Renata's face that he couldn't figure out yet. "Renata? It's me, Martha. I-I can't say I understand very well what all that-" she made a gesture at Renata's wings, "-is but you're not okay. You must be exhausted. You should let me take you into the TARDIS."

"No," Renata said flatly. "I want to put an end to them, all of them."

Gabby wobbled on her feet, for the first time feeling a bit weak from the energy she'd suddenly garnered. "Maybe...it wouldn't be a bad idea…"

"Oi! Doctor!" Donna called to the original from the control panel. "Could use some help!" She already had the metacrisis Doctor with her, but a third set of hands would end things much quicker.

"Stop them!" Davros ordered the remaining Daleks inside.

Donna had other ideas. She clicked a button on the panel. "And spin!"

The Daleks advance.

Renata turned her head at the spinning Daleks, revealing a fury she'd been hiding. The energy was making her let it go. "No spin, just die!" she screamed and fired upon the closest, spinning Daleks.

"Renata!" Martha tried reaching for her but the Doctor was faster and yanked them both back.

"You can't touch her! That's the Time Vortex around her!" he nodded to the dancing, golden flames around Renata's body.

Renata desisted with the measly Daleks spinning around them. She set eyes on the biggest threat of them all: Davros. She stalked towards him, leaving her footprints in Vortex power on the floor. "YOU!"

Martha didn't waste time and shoved the Doctor after her. "Stop her before she gets killed!"

The Doctor quickly glanced at Donna and saw she was busily working with his metacrisis copy then glanced at the others to see them coming out with their own weapons against the Daleks. Gabby was the only one unattended, but Martha practically read his thoughts.

"I've got her!" she rushed for Gabby but remembered she couldn't touch her. Although the more Martha studied the girl, the quicker she realized Gabby's power wasn't as strong as Renata's. Her purple glow came and went, almost as if it were trying to face but Gabby was clinging to it. "Gabby? Gabby, you need to put that energy away!"

"I can't!" Gabby clutched her head. "I-I thought this new mind was great but now I feel like a computer that's overloading. The power... it's a lot."

Martha could only imagine. "Listen, you just have to stop-"

"-I can't! I need to help Renata! It's beyond me, it's an instinct!"

"You're connected," Martha blinked and quickly glanced at Renata. Renata was hell bent on getting Daleks, and now Davros, and it seemed she had a pull on Gabby too. The butterflies were connected in some way.

Near the TARDIS, Jack had gone in to collect his and Rose's guns in case they ended up needing them when they escaped. The others, including Rose, took to pushing away any spinning Daleks that managed to get too close to Donna and the TARDIS. Donna had the metacrisis Doctor working like mad to get all the planets home.

"Activate magnetron!" she ordered.

"Stop it at once!" Davros attempted to go for Donna when Renata struck just in front of him.

She moved to stand right in front with one hand extended forwards, bathed in Vortex energy that was waiting to be released. "You stay right where you are."

"The Vortex Butterfly will murder on her first day?" Davros seemed more bemused than afraid.

"I'd be doing the world a favor," Renata balled her fist, finally letting the rage out that she'd bottled up for years. "No one would miss you."

The Doctor was horrified to hear that logic and much more that it was coming from Renata. He was helpless as he looked between her, Gabby and Donna working madly to get the planets back in place. All three of his companions were changed because of him. He'd ruined them just like everyone before them. And it broke his hearts all over again. They were weapons, just like the Daleks told him. It was his curse and they had to live with it while he could only watch.

Not Renata. He couldn't bear watching her betray her own morals. She was always so sweet, so protective, even when she harbored deep secrets it never changed who she was at her core. "Renée! You can't do this!"

There was a sour smile on Renata's face. "Why not? Really, Doctor, who would give a damn? They're the ones who ruined our world. They murdered everyone. But now I have the power to end them, to pay them back with the same coin."

"Renata, I know where you're coming from. I've been there," the Doctor promised her. He thought of the first Dalek he met right after the Time War. The first Dalek that might have changed. In that time he could care less if it was a safe Dalek, if it had become best friends with Rose and gotten a new perspective on life. He wanted to see it dead, just like all the other Daleks. But Rose reminded him that even though everything was gone, he was still there and deserved a chance to live.

"Renata, you always said that you wanted to go home, that-that you would do anything to go home…" he started again but it was difficult to get out when he could see how each word of his punctured Renata's hearts. "But this isn't it. This won't get you home and it won't bring home back. Renata I'm sorry but... it's gone." Renata's face scrunched harder the more he drilled it into her head, drilled reality into her head. "Gallifrey is dead and going on a murder spree won't do anything to change that. But listen, you have people here too. You have Martha, you have Donna, you have me and you have a young girl who looks up to you. And right now, she's in pain because she's trying to help you."

Renata blinked, for a second coming out of her dark moment, and slightly glanced in the Doctor's way. He was desperately trying to show her a struggling Gabby who was barely able to stay on her feet. Martha and Mickey were trying to bring her towards the TARDIS but the girl refused, saying things about helping her.

"You see?" the Doctor caught onto her temporary moment of lucidness to finish making his point. "I think you're temporary connected and she feels like she has to help you."

Renata returned her attention to her threatening hand. Davros wasn't close to her anymore but all it took was one shot, one shot, and it would be enough to end him.

"It breaks my hearts that I can't bring your family back. Because I would, if there was any way that I could I really would." The Doctor tried stepping closing to her, hoping that he was getting through to her once and for all. "They're gone. Everyone's gone."

Renata started to shake and sniff until it turned into gentle a cry. The golden energy around her body died within seconds. She lowered her threatening hand and brought it against her mouth to cover her sobs. "Oh God, what am I doing?"

When the Doctor knew it was safe, he pulled her into a hug and let her shake and sob for a few minutes. She needed it.

By the control panel, Donna and the metacrisis Doctor were almost done working.

"We got it, Doctor! Ha!" Donna laughed as she watched each planet return to their rightful place.

Rose and Jack came by to see their progress, though Rose's gaze often fell on the original Doctor with Renata.

"Is anyone gonna tell us what's going on?" Jack asked them.

"The Doctor - the original - poured all his regeneration energy into his spare hand," Donna explained rather fast, sounding a lot like the Doctor, "I touched the hand and he-" she nodded to the metacrisis Doctor, "-grew out of that, but that fed back into me. But, it just stayed dormant in my head 'til the synapses got that little extra spark, kicking them into life. Thank you, Davros! Part Human...part Time Lord. And I got the best bit of the Doctor. I got his mind!"

"So there's three of you?" Sarah Jane wandered over at the explanation.

Even Rose was wearing the same face of surprise. "Three Doctors?"

"I can't tell you what I'm thinking right now!" Jack looked away for the same reason. It was then that he saw the original Doctor and Renata finally making their way to them. "Doc! Donna just explained how there's three of you now!"

"Great," the Doctor was walking slowly with Renata. He checked behind him to see Martha and Mickey were able to bring Gabby along.

"Donna, you were so unique that the timelines were converging on you," Renata managed to smile, though it was a tired one. "Human Being with a Time Lord brain."

"Very special," Gabby added. She was looking better too now that her link with Renata was lowering because the Time Lady's murderous endeavors stopped.

"But you promised me, Dalek Caan. Why did you not forsee this?" Davros turned his chair to Dalek Caan in new flourished anger.

Dalek Caan giggled knowingly.

"Oh, I think he did," the Doctor said when he figured it out. "Something's been manipulating the timelines for ages... getting Donna Noble to the right place at the right time."

"This would always have happened. I only helped, Doctor."

Davros didn't want to believe that his entire plan had failed and much more that it was always going to fail. "You...betrayed the Daleks?"

"I saw the Daleks. What we have done throughout time and space. I saw the truth of us, Creator, and I decreed 'no more'."

"Dalek...on our side?" Renata would act more surprised if her facial features would allow it.

"Heads up!" Jack called when he saw the Vault doors opening up.

The Supreme Dalek had descended to the room. "Davros, you have betrayed us."

"It was Dalek Caan!"

"The Vault will be purged! You will all be exterminated!" the Supreme Dalek sent a death ray towards a central column, causing sparks to fly.

Jack had another thing to say. "Like I was saying, feel this!" He blasted the Dalek to smithereens with his large gun.

"No!" the metacrisis Doctor exclaimed when he saw the central column had been destroyed with the Supreme Dalek's ray. "We've lost the magnatron! And there's only one planet left!"

"And let me guess," the original Doctor began, "It's Earth?" both the metacrisis Doctor and Donna nodded their heads. "We can use the TARDIS. I'll do it." He brought Renata into the TARDIS and Martha and Mickey came in shortly afterwards with Gabby. "Renée, don't move! Got it?"

Renata had been sat in the Captain's chair and this time she didn't argue with him. She nodded her head instead. "I think the Butterfly is done."

The Doctor cocked his head to the side, disliking her choice of words but time was short. He ran to Gabby next. "Gabby? How we doin'?"

"Better, thanks," she smiled much more easily than Renata. "I think...I think I got a little less than Ren. I-I touched Donna when she touched your, uh, your hand…"

The Doctor paused to think about it for a second. "You must have activated your power via the metacrisis, but you didn't intake the same amount of Donna. It kitck-started the dormant energy of the Block Matrix from Zhe's gallery."

"But why am I not affected like Renata?"

"Renata's mutation was kick-started by Dorothy Bell and her Osiran powers. Plus, every Time Lord carries a bit of the Time Vortex inside them, you don't. You're human. You just have the Block Transfer connection."

"Oh, is that it?" Gabby sarcastically quipped.

"But you'll be fine - you and Renata will both be fine," the Doctor promised then ran for the console. He would get them sorted once they finished sorting this first. Everything would be just fine, just fine, because-

There was a strange commotion coming from the outside, it sounded like screaming. He hurried back outside and saw the shrieking, exploding Daleks from the screen Davros originally had for them.

"What've you done?!" he shouted in horror at his counterpart.

The new Doctor didn't seem that perturbed with the fact he had just slaughtered millions of Daleks in one go. "Fulfilling the prophecy." There was a wildness in his eyes that genuinely scared the original Doctor. "Do you know what you've done? Now, get in the TARDIS!" he roared and pointed the man for the blue box.

The metacrisis Doctor did so but he knew there was nothing more to do. It was already done. The Crucible would explode in minutes.

"Everyone! All of you inside, run! In, in, in, in, in!" the Doctor hurried along the remaining companions into the TARDIS. The Vault went up in flames but despite that, the Doctor knew Davros was still around. If he didn't come, he'd explode as well. "Davros? Come with me! I promise I can save you!"

"Never forget, Doctor - you did this!" Davros voice echoed through the room. "I name you, forever, you are the Destroyer of Worlds!"

The Doctor stayed in his spot for a minute, frozen as he concluded that everything was right. He was a destroyer.

"Doctor!" someone called to him from inside the TARDIS. It snapped him out of his thoughts and brought him right in.

The console was actually crowded - a strange sight for someone who usually travelled alone or at least light - with all his companions trying to gather sense of what they'd just gone through.

"And! Off we go!" he went for the console, starting the TARDIS up. Soon as he did, the group rocked to a side.

"But what about the Earth? It's stuck in the wrong part of space!" Sarah Jane said as if anyone would forget that small detail.

"I'm on it!" the Doctor promised as he worked the console. He got in contact with Torchwood as fast as he could. "I want you to open up that Rift Manipulator - send all the power to me!"

Afterwards, he called up Sarah Jane so that they could get in contact with her son, Luke, and her advanced computer Mr. Smith. He gave them another instruction and once it was set in motion, he rushed around giving each of his companions a control to work on the console. It would be a many-people drive!

Renata could see everybody crowded over the console with the same gleeful smiles on their faces. Her hearts warmed at the sight of all those people who were able to gather together because of the Doctor. She only knew two of them but she only needed to know the Doctor to know that every single one of them were amazing. She closed her eyes and took in a quiet breath. It almost looked like she was taking in her last breath, which was immediately pulled the Doctor towards her.

"Renata!" he scurried up to her seat with such a pale face that Renata would've laughed if she could.

"I'm okay," she said in a frail voice. "I'm just...so tired."

"I know, I know, I'm going to bring you to the medbay and-and we'll do all the testing and-"

Renata brought a hand up to his mouth, quieting him down in a second. Her kind, tired eyes told him she'd already made a decision. "I think I know where I need to go."

The Doctor was puzzled with her. Where could she want to go that wasn't the TARDIS? It hurt just to imagine her not around.

She seemed to have read his mind, or at least part of it anyways. She drew her hand away from his mouth and smiled rather sadly. "You'll be fine. You'll have someone back." Her eyes flickered past him so he followed it to Rose.

He wasn't quite sure how to feel about that.

~ 0 ~

Landing back on Earth - that'd been brought back to its rightful spot - felt like a dream for the humans. Sarah Jane couldn't wait and ran out first. She laughed at such normality of the park they were in. It didn't even look like there'd been a massive Dalek invasion 10 minutes ago.

The Doctor came peeking out a few seconds later, but not without Gabby shoving him to the side afterwards.

"We're back on Earth! We're back!" she cheered excitedly. Sarah Jane and the Doctor shared a small laugh as the girl spun around.

"Looks like your doing a lot better," the Doctor noted with a relieved smile.

Gabby was about to nod when a spree of purple butterflies sprang from the top of her head. It made her freeze mid-spin with wide eyes.

Once more, there was a small laughter between the two on-lookers.

"We'll need to work on that," the Doctor said.

Gabby decided to start laying low for now and returned to them. "I...did not mean to do that."

"I still don't understand that," Sarah Jane chuckled behind a hand. "But I imagine this will not be the last time we see each other." She glanced at the Doctor with a biggened smile. "You know... you act like such a lonely man. But look at you! You've got the biggest family on Earth! And you even managed to find yourself another Time Lord - lady. I'm so happy for you." She hugged him and missed the sad smile on the Doctor's face. "Gotta go now!" she pulled away with new excitement. "He's only fourteen! It's a long story. And thank you!"

"I like her," Gabby announced when Sarah Jane ran off.

"Yeah…"

Gabby brought a hand to her chest suddenly, making a face like something was bothering her. When the Doctor noticed it, she explained, "It's really weird. I go back and forth with this. One moment I'm okay and then the next I feel so heavy, like-like I just have to release, you know?"

"Like Renata," the Doctor nodded quietly. He presumed it was the same situation as Renata, only Gabby's energy amount was less than what Renata had.

"I-I should go see how she's doing," Gabby said after she'd managed to get through her small moment. She walked into the TARDIS at the same time both Mickey and Jack emerged.

"Ren, you should sit," Martha was in the middle of saying when Gabby joined them.

"I'm not a baby, Martha Jones. I'm quite older than you," Renata spoke ever-so-calmly and - Gabby had no idea how in such a bad moment - gracefully too. Renata had finally gotten up from her chair and was attempting to walk a couple steps.

Martha rolled her eyes and followed after Renata, arms ready to catch her in case she fell. "You just expelled some weird butterfly powers."

"Time Vortex, thank you very much," Renata turned around slowly to face Martha.

"How did that even happen?"

"A series of events, I'm afraid. We visited an art gallery that used a Quantum Sphere for Block Transfer Computation and infected me and Gabby."

Martha blinked and quickly looked at Gabby, but the girl raised her hands. "I didn't get the worst," she said and Martha sighed. That much she could tell.

"I was further infected - contaminated - by a different alien race, the Osirans," Renata went on. "And my body just never healed."

"And she wouldn't let the Doctor keep running tests on her," Donna came over with a long gaze on Renata.

"Surprise, surprise," Martha folded her arms and gave her best friend a disapproving look.

"Oh don't start, none of you," Renata pointed a finger at each and every one of them. "I don't want to hear it."

"Ren, will you be okay?" Martha's question did make Renata stop just as she was continuing to walk. "Like...like will you…?"

Renata turned back again and softened at Martha's concern. "I don't know," Renata admitted. She didn't want to lie to Martha. "But I need to go somewhere to figure out what I want."

Martha's stomach churned because , knowing Renata, knowing what had just happened, there was no telling what Renata would 'want'. Without saying a word, she walked up to Renata and hugged her really tight. She didn't say it but Renata knew. Just in case...Martha wanted to say goodbye.

"I'm sorry for how we got to know each other," Martha pulled away with a teary face. "I'm sorry I read your diary-"

"-forget about it," Renata nodded. "I burned that thing a long time ago. You were right. I couldn't live in the past. Elek is gone…" she exhaled a shaky breath, "The Assessor is gone, my family...everyone's gone. Maybe living in the past is the reason why I've never been happy." It was why she would rather end things now then keep living like that. She just didn't know how to do either.

"I know you can be happy," Martha smiled her best one. "You have to want it." And that was the thing: Renata didn't know what she wanted.

"See you around, Martha," Renata smiled warmly.

"...yeah," Martha knew that was still up in the air. Still, there was nothing left to do but leave.

"Martha," Renata called just as the woman reached the door, "If you could do one thing for me...get rid of that Osterhagen key, please? I understand why the humans would create something like but it would just break the Doctor's hearts if it continued to exist. Do that for him, will you?"

Martha knew that by extension, she'd be doing Renata her last wish too. "Of course," she promised and walked out.

"Uh, Renata?" Rose gently called to the Time Lady after Martha left.

Renata saw the woman was a bit feeble, almost afraid. Still, Renata felt like whatever Rose was going to say, it would be better if the Doctor was there too. She had a hunch about what it was and Renata didn't want Rose to have to repeat herself.

"Let's just wait a moment, okay?"

Rose nodded but she was biting her lower lip nervously. She needed to get something off her chest now.

~0~

Bad Wolf Bay.

The next stop for the TARDIS was a breezy, cloudy beach.

Jackie was disgusted of the place as soon as she recognized it. "Ugh, fat lot of good this is! Back of beyond, bloody Norway! I'm gonna have to phone your father. He's on the nursery run."

"You have a baby?" Gabby had come out after her and the metacrisis Doctor.

Jackie nodded proudly. "Had a baby boy!"

"Ah, brilliant! What did you call him?" the metacrisis Doctor asked.

"Doctor."

That made the man stop in his Sandy tracks. "...really?"

"No, you plum. He's called Tony!"

Gabby laughed while the Doctor frowned. Jackie Tyler was too funny!

As soon as Rose stepped into the familiar beach, she was puzzled. She didn't understand what she was doing there again. "Hold on, this is the parallel universe, right?" she asked just as the rest followed out of the TARDIS.

"You're back home," the original Doctor said.

"And the walls of the world are closing again...now that the Reality Bomb never happened. It's dimension retroclosure." Donna smiled proudly of herself. "See, I really get that stuff now."

Rose didn't understand - well, she might. Her teary eyes flickered between the Doctor and Renata. "Is this my punishment? For letting the Daleks through the cracks?"

"Of course not," Renata said softly. She was honestly surprised just like Rose. She didn't think the Doctor would actually choose to bring Rose back to her own world, but once Renata figured out the extent of his plans...she couldn't say that she disagreed. "And I'm sorry I put that idea into your head. This was not your fault, Rose. You had a good heart and the Daleks took advantage of that. This is not a punishment."

"Never," the Doctor agreed. "I would never do that to you.

"But you still want me to stay here! After all that time I spent trying to find you! I'm not going back now!" Rose was in full blown tears that were a mix of frustration and confusion.

The Doctor stepped towards her, hoping to catch her down so she could truly listen to what he needed from her. She always listened, after all. She was very good at that. And it did him so well. That's why only she could do what he needed her to do. "But you've got to. Because we saved the universe, but at a cost. And the cost is him." Offence slipped out of the metacrisis Doctor as soon as the gazes turned on him. "He destroyed the Daleks. He committed genocide. He's too dangerous to be left on his own."

"You made me!"

"Exactly, you were born in battle - full of blood and anger and revenge." The original Doctor turned his attention back to Rose. "Remind you of someone?" Rose would not entertain that answer.

"Yeah, her!" the metacrisis Doctor spat and pointed at Renata. The Time Lady was shocked but, after a few seconds she realized he was absolutely right.

"No, leave her alone!" the original Doctor snapped so aggressively that, without his notice, Rose came to her own conclusions.

"He's right," Renata put a hand on the Doctor's arm, calming him. "I murdered Daleks and I would've nearly had Davros if you hadn't stopped me." She swallowed hard and withdrew her hand from his arm. "I always said I was a terrible person. This just solidifies it."

"Absolutely not," the original Doctor insisted that they were both wrong. "You were on your own for 56 years after the Time War. You never got the chance to heal...not like I had someone." He looked at Rose with a new sense of urgent plead. The blonde had cleaned up her tears but others were still pooling in her eyes. "She and him are me when we first met and you, Rose, made me better. Now you can do the same for him."

"And you for her," Rose whispered, eyes catching Renata's shameful lowering gaze. She could understand that, but it didn't mean she was happy about it, not when she realized the truth. It was the truth she'd been blinding herself to ever since she got to their world. The gentle touches, the ferocity to protect each other, the whispers between them…

"You love her," she whispered, crestfallen.

Both the Doctor and Renata froze. They wouldn't look at each other but neither could say that their hearts hadn't stopped for a second.

"Rose, I need you to do this for me," the Doctor said, going on as if nothing had been said. "You're the only one I trust."

Rose wasn't shaking her head, but she couldn't nod either. "He's not you."

"He needs you. That's very me."

"If I may?" Donna cleared her throat and raised a finger. "He's trying to give you something as well. Because you're right, these two-" she spared the Doctor and Renata a soft smile, "-have something complicated but something nonetheless, whether they want to admit or not." The pair's flushed faces confirmed each of Donna's words. "But him…" Donna nodded over to the metacrisis Doctor, "He's from before - the hand? - he's from your time."

Rose side-glanced the metacrisis Doctor, looking him over to see if Donna was telling the truth.

"I look like him and I think like him... same memories, same thoughts, same everything," the metacrisis Doctor stepped towards her. "All from our time together. The only difference is that I've only got one heart."

Rose seemed to stumble back a few steps. "Which means?"

"I'm part Human. Specifically the aging part. I'll grow old and never regenerate. I've only got one life...Rose Tyler. I could spend it with you. If you want."

"You'll grow- grow old at the same time as me?"

"Together."

Rose placed a hand to his chest to confirm what he was saying. One heart.

She glanced back at Renata and the Doctor.

"One of us should be happy," Renata smiled lightly, albeit a bit sad herself.

The TARDIS made an odd noise, pulling everyone's attention for a moment. Time was running out.

"We've gotta go. This reality's sealing itself off," the Doctor said. Renata nodded in agreement. "Forever."

"But it's still not right," Rose wanted to insist but there was something inside her telling her that this was already over. It just hurt to accept it.

"I think we should say one more thing," Renata stopped the Doctor beside her from turning away. "Thank you. Doctor, did you ever say that to her? Because she did a wonder on you."

The Doctor couldn't help playfully roll her eyes, even Rose was smiling just a tiny bit.

Renata drew in another shaky breath. "You have a healing ability, Rose, that no one else has. I would've liked that for me after I got out of the Time War. He's right," she crossed gazes with the metacrisis Doctor, "I'm just as bad. And having both of us in the same world will do no one any good. But if he stays here, you can help him. And Rose, you can be happy. Happy...something not everyone can be. Take this opportunity and be happy."

Rose stared at Renata for what felt like the longest minute for the latter. She had tilted her head, truly studying the Time Lady. "You're not bad. You're just hurting." And as she said those words she realized that the two were right. She was like the Doctor and if that was true then so was the metacrisis Doctor. "And you need help…" she drew in a breath, letting reality finally come to them. "I understand. But I just...I just have to know one thing, just one. When I last stood on this beach on the worst day of my life... what was the last thing you said to me?"

The Doctor gave a small nod, but it was too hard to go back to that time full of pain. He didn't want to add on more, more heartbreak. "I think...I can let him answer that. After all, it was my answer too."

Renata tried turning for the TARDIS, but in doing so she nearly fell. The Doctor grabbed her by the waist and decided it was best to keep a hold around her. And he concluded that he would much rather hold her right now, making sure that she was okay. Still, he wanted to look back one more time at Rose for goodbyes. She seemed to know his intentions and gave a nod.

"Goodbye," she managed to say through tears.

"Goodbye," he returned. He gently pulled Renata towards the TARDIS and do Donna brought Gabby along as well.

Rose despondently watched the TARDIS disappear, that is...until she felt the metacrisis Doctor slip his hand through hers. He watched her with such fondness that, whether or not she wanted to, a smile worked its way across her face. She couldn't say that all was lost this time.

~0~

"There you go," the Doctor brought Renata straight for the Captain's chair again while Donna piloted the TARDIS (her skills were mighty better as well, it appeared). "Let's try to sit for a while, okay?"

"No," she said, already attempting to get back up. "I want to...be there…"she purposely looked past him to Donna.

He became silent. He knew what she meant.

"You know," Donna was saying to Gabby, "I thought we could try the planet Felspoon. After Renata is better of course. Just 'cos. What a good name, 'Felspoon', you know? Apparently it's got mountains that sway in the breeze. Mountains that move. Can you imagine?"

Gabby shook her head. "Nope! But I'd love to see! Actually, I'd like to stop by and see my family first. See how they're doing after all this.

"Oh yeah! Sure! Course we can do that!" Donna chuckled and moved the controls to get them to New York. "You know, Doctor, you could fix that chameleon circuit if you just try and hotbind in the fragment links and superseding the binary, binary, binary, binary, binary, binary..."

Gabby blinked in shock at the sudden repetition. She looked quickly to the Doctor and Renata but neither of them seemed that surprised, or worried. In fact, it almost seemed like they knew. But knew what?

"Binary, binary, binary, binary, binary, binary, binary, binary, binary-" Donna sucked in a huge breath to stop herself. "I'm fine!" she laughed it off. "Nah, never-mind Felspoon. You know who I'd like to meet? Charlie Chaplin. I've heard he's great, Charlie Chaplin. Shall we do that? Shall we go and see Charlie Chaplin?" she grabbed the console phone, going fast for some reason. "Shall we? Charlie Chaplin? Charlie Chester, Charlie Brown. No, he's fiction, friction, fiction, fixen, mixen, rixten, brixton-" she doubled over in pain and so the Doctor hurried to help her.

"What's happening?" Gabby stared at Donna, full of concern. Donna was holding her head like something was throbbing.

"Donna, do you know what's happening?" Renata gently called. She was moving to stand up and since there was no point in arguing, Gabby decided to help her.

Donna looked at Renata then the Doctor, knowing exactly what they meant but she just didn't want to admit it.

"There's never been a Human-Time Lord metacrisis before now. And you know why," the Doctor hated to see Donna close to tears, especially when she'd been so ecstatic minutes ago.

"Because there can't be," Donna barely managed to say the words without crying. She gently moved away from the Doctor's hold, as if doing that made it not real. "I want to stay…"

Gabby's eyes widened. Why would Donna say something like that? Why wouldn't she able to stay?

"Donna, look at me," the Doctor said but she wouldn't. "Donna, look at me."

Donna finally looked at him but it was with a certain defiance in her eyes. "I was gonna be with you... forever."

"I know…"

"The rest of my life...travelling... in the TARDIS. The Doctor-Donna. With Renata, and Gabby…"

"Donna," Renata moved towards them with Gabby's help but the moment Donna realized what would come next she backtracked in horror.

"No. Oh, my God! I can't go back! Don't make me go back!"

Gabby blinked away tears at how terrified Donna was. She didn't understand a lot but she did know that Donna was nearing the end of her life in the TARDIS.

"Doctor... please. Please, don't make me go back!" Donna resorted to begging. She couldn't leave everything behind to be that simple, non-important Donna again.

The Doctor neared her whether she wanted him or not. "Donna. Oh, Donna Noble. I am so, so sorry. But we had the best of times. The best."

"No! No!"

"Donna, I'm sorry but thank you," Renata took her turn, feeling tears in her eyes as well. "Thank you so much."

"Donna I'm sorry, I'm…" Gabby couldn't put her words together, but she was sure that Donna knew what she wanted to say. She knew what they all wanted to say: goodbye.

No one was listening to her!

"I am entitled to my choice!" she cried.

"Donna if we don't you'll die!" the Doctor almost snapped. "And I have lost too many people to add you to the list. The world cannot live without Donna Noble. But I promise you, I swear, that things will not be the same. You will not forget that confidence. You will know your worth. Goodbye."

"No. No, please! Please! No, NO! No!" Donna's pleads were silenced the moment the Doctor put his fingers against her temples. Everything she lived went into rewind, all the way until the first moment she met the Doctor…

And it all disappeared.

~0~

With tears, the group brought Donna back home for the final time. They'd placed her in her room then went into the living room to explain to Wilf and Sylvia what happened to Donna.

"She took my mind into her own head. But that's a Time Lord consciousness," the Doctor was explaining. "All that knowledge - it was killing her."

"But she'll get better, now?" Wilf asked hopefully. He was relieved to see both the Doctor and Renata nod together.

"I had to wipe her mind, completely. Every trace of us or the TARDIS... everything we did together, anywhere we went... had to go," the Doctor said grimly.

"All those wonderful things she did…"

"I know. But that version of Donna is dead. Because if she remembers, just for a second, she'll burn up. You can never tell her. You can't mention us, or any of it... for the rest of her life."

Sylvia found it impossible. "But the whole world's talking about it. We traveled across space!"

"It'll just be a story. One of those Donna Noble stories, where she missed it all again," the Doctor managed to smile with nostalgia. Donna Noble, missing a story, would be the theme of her life.

"But she was better with you," Wild tried to argue when Sylvia cut in.

"Don't say that-"

"No, she was!"

"You should be proud of her, though," Renata spoke for the first time since arriving. Both Wilf and Sylvia had noticed the woman's pale complexion. "There are worlds out there, safe in the sky, because of her. There are people living in the light, singing songs of Donna Noble, a thousand million light-years away…and they will never forget her. While she can never remember." It wasn't the ending that Donna deserved at all. Just thinking about it brought fresh new tears to her eyes.

"And for one moment... one shining moment... she was the most important woman in the whole wide universe," the Doctor sighed lightly.

"She still is," Sylvia responded curtly. "She's my daughter."

"Well then maybe you should tell her that once in a while," Gabby quipped. She knew first-hand what it was like feeling worthless in the eyes of your family. She'd worked endlessly at her parent's restaurant and the laundromat, letting life slip away. But when her parents finally told her to do what she always wanted to do, just like she always dreamed of, it brought an indescribable feeling. Everyone needed that, to know they were worth something

Sylvia lowered her gaze and didn't say more. A few seconds later, they heard Donna coming down the stairs. The trio of travelers stiffened when she came in, completely oblivious to their presence.

"I was asleep, on my bed, in my clothes, like a flippin' kid!" she exclaimed with her phone in hand. "What did you let me do that for?!" It hurt more when she spared them the tiniest glances. They were no longer important to her. "Don't mind me. Donna."

"John Smith," the Doctor rose from the couch, prompting Renata and Gabby to do the same.

"Ren," Renata left it short just in case.

"Fernanda," Gabby said and earned herself a brief glance from Renata and the Doctor. Did she forget to mention to them that she had a middle name?

Donna shook each of their hands but almost out of sheer politeness.

"They were just leaving," Sylvia said, eyeing them with a 'you better do it' look.

"My phone's gone mad! Thirty-two texts, Veena's gone barmy, she's saying planets in the sky - what have I missed now?" Donna shouted and turned to leave, but not without a vague "Nice to meet you".

"Like I said, you should go," Sylvia sternly told the trio.

"We will," Renata stumbled to walk up to the woman and she swatted the Doctor's and Gabby's helping hands. "But you mark my words: you better not undo the confidence Donna has built up. The Doctor made sure to leave that part of her intact. Because Donna at least deserved that. She may not be able to see us but we will be keeping an eye on this house, on Donna and if I find out that you are belittling her again I will come straight for you!" Golden flames briefly sprouted from her body, finishing the job of terrifying Sylvia.

The Doctor gingerly brought her back beside him, but he silently applauded Renata. A good scare oughta put Sylvia in her place.

~0~

The trio found that it'd began to rain outside, coming along with thunder to finish the grim night.

"Ah... you'll have quite a bit of this. Atmospheric disturbance. Still, it'll pass," the Doctor explained to Wilf who'd accompanied them to the doorstep. "Everything does…" he turned to Wilf and shook a hand with him. "Bye then, Wilfred."

"Goodbye," Renata went next then Gabby.

"I'll watch out for you," Wilf promised but ended up worrying the Doctor.

"You can't ever tell her!"

"No, no, no. But every night, Doctor... when it gets dark... and the stars come out... I'll look up. On her behalf. I'll look up at the sky and think of you all."

The Doctor was touched of such a thing. "Thank you." He brought Renata down the front porch step and walked slowly with her, despite it being pouring.

Gabby took the lead with a sprint and opened the TARDIS doors for them. The pair came in eventually, now soaking wet. Gabby watched them slowly make it to the Captain's chair and she followed them but there was something she wanted to say that she didn't know how to word well.

She didn't know when it was appropriate to talk after... everything. Donna's forced departure was sure to be something that no one would be getting over soon. Donna had been a part of their small space family. Plus, Donna had been like a confidant for Gabby about all their space travels and what that did to them sometimes. Gabby realized that now there would be no other human - someone like her - to remember those memories. Donna had come first to the TARDIS but it seemed like Gabby would be the one to stay until the end.

"Um, Doctor? Renata?" she began with a soft call. The Doctor had pulled the TARDIS into the Vortex, making the box give a gentle shake. "I, uh, I... I'd really like to see my family. Just for a bit…"

"-of course, Gabby," Renata smiled at the girl. It was natural for her to want to see her family after what happened.

"If you want to stay for a while, that'd be fine too," the Doctor added.

"I don't want to stop!" Gabby exclaimed, wanting to leave that loud and clear. "I don't want to stop anytime soon! I just...I'd like to explain to them what it is I'm really doing. I want to be honest with them."

"Sounds good," Renata smiled but barely contained a groan. Her hand moved to her stomach.

Gabby watched sadly as the Doctor hurried to Renata's side. "Are you going to be okay, Renata?" she asked, sighing.

"Well, no regeneration energy right now so...not dying...for now," Renata scrunched her face. "I don't really know if I'll make it out of the woods, as you humans say. But I think I know where I have to go." She looked specifically at the Doctor for that bit, knowing that it was something he'd been trying to avoid ever since she brought it up earlier. "And I have to stay there for a while."

~0~

Zhe's gallery remained exactly the same as when the travelers first left it. No one was allowed up in her private moon but this time but this time, Zhe herself was down in the gallery when the travelers arrived. She came to greet them as soon as someone alerted her of the wheezing box. However, she knew instantly that something had happened for the Doctor was grim as he and Gabby helped Renata walk out of the blue box.

"What has happened?" she inquired as soon as they were face to face.

"Long story, could I please get a chair?" Renata smiled as politely as ever despite the pain that was rippling through her.

Once Zhe brought them into her office, where Renata could rest on a whole couch to herself, the Doctor began to explain everything. He started with the contamination that began the last time they visited the gallery, and how Renata was further infected with foreign nanonites from Dorothy Bell and the Osirans, then finished it with the Vortex Butterfly bit. He threw in Gabby's own manifested powers.

To say Zhe was in shock would be an understatement, but she wouldn't let that derail her from helping in any way that she could. "I'm sorry my Quantum Sphere did that to you - to both of you," she looked between Renata and Gabby. "I-I thought they would've just faded away."

"It's not your fault," Gabby said. "If anything, it's on me. If I hadn't let your apprentice touch me then neither me nor Renata would've been infected in the first place."

"Hey - no!" Renata was quick to interject. "No one is to blame, except myself. Let's be honest, this is just my punishment for the things I've done in the past. But Zhe, the reason I'm here is because I need to ask for a favor."

Zhe nodded, already agreeing no matter what. "Anything."

"I don't know why but...I feel like this place is the only place where I can be at peace for a while. I need to expel more of this energy, learn to control if I'm not going to die. Your art gallery - your private moon - there's no danger there if I unexpectedly combust. Can I stay, please?"

Zhe's eyes flickered to the Doctor and took note of the deep pain on the man's face. He wasn't at all for this idea but he was doing it for Renata because she wanted it. "Of course, Renata. You are as welcomed here as the Doctor is. You can stay for as long as you need to."

"Thank you," Renata nodded. She glanced at the Doctor as well and figured they might as well get it over with. "Can I just speak to the Doctor alone for a moment?"

"Yes, of course," Zhe nodded. She gestured for Gabby to follow her out. "We'll be outside if you need anything."

"Thank you," Renata watched them leave and when they were gone she finally let herself sigh as deep as an ocean was. She was so tired and if she didn't get to close her eyes in the next five minutes perhaps death would come for her then.

"Renata, you don't have to leave," the Doctor approached her on the couch. "If it's because of what happened before all the Daleks...I would never make you leave."

"It's not just that, Doctor," Renata shifted a bit to better face him. "I meant what I said about this energy thing. If I'm not going to die anytime soon, then I need to learn how to control this and can you imagine if I let it all out inside the TARDIS? All that extra vortex energy will not be good. And you know that, don't you?" the Doctor didn't say anything but his lowered gaze answered for him. "Besides, can you honestly look at me and not feel just a tad of anger for what I did?"

As if to test her theory, he gazed up and looked into her eyes. He wanted to say 'of course not' so badly, but then he remembered her lies...and her so many lies. He didn't want her to leave, nor did he want anything to happen to her, but he was a bit upset too. He was rightfully upset.

Renata smiled so warmly at him, just like Zuriah would. When she reached to touch his face, the Doctor instantly felt the same warmth he used to feel back in their early days. It finally made sense to him why she was so familiar to him, why he so easily fell for her as John Smith. It was why it was incredibly easy to make a choice between her and Rose.

"I love you, Gala," the words just slipped from his mouth before he could even think of it. There was a flutter of Renata's hearts when she heard her true name come from his lips. It'd been one of the most sacred rules they had broken by learning each other's names without being married. But she had loved the way her name sounded on his lips, even now the feelings stayed the same with the same level of love. "Meeting you all those centuries ago was the best thing that happened to me."

"Even though it led to so much heartbreak?" she tilted her head, fresh tears coming to her eyes.

"I would rather go through all that than to have never met you." He took her hand off his face and held it between his two hands. He gave her palm a soft kiss then looked at her again, needing her to understand that he was being 100% honest with her. Yes, he could trade that all in and spare himself the pain he felt losing her and learning that she had been travelling with him all this time. All this he would take just to see her again. That was what Martha had been trying to get him to understand before all the mess happened. "Getting the community service was the beginning of everything. I met the sweetest, kindest girl on that first day. It was the beginning of my greatest adventure - my riskiest - and it was the end of any hope of a life without her. She yelled a lot-" Renata chuckled with her blushing cheeks, "-but she had the best hearts on Gallifrey. Renata, you have a golden soul."

"I don't think I do," Renata's smile became a sad one. "I've done very bad stuff."

"So have I."

"But there's no darkness inside of you. You have always been a golden soul and I don't think that's ever going to change. So please listen to me when I say that despite everything that's happened, I don't want to lose you a third time." The Doctor took a seat next to her, never letting go of her hand. "I lost you once when you said no to running away, and then I lost you again after the Time War. I am not interested in losing you this time around."

"You would really want to...to be with me?" Renata blinked fairly fast out of genuine surprise but also because of the tears that wanted to stroll down from her eyes.

"My sweet Gala, of course. But I know that you're not ready, and perhaps neither am I just yet, so you take your time here. Rest, train, relax. And I will work hard to try to find a cure or something to help you. I'll come around every day to make sure you're okay." He'd much rather stay with her on the planet but he knew well that she wanted to be alone. "And when time passes, maybe you and I...we could, you know…" he trailed off with high hopes that she would nod her head at him.

She chuckled. "I'd...I'd like that." Martha's first words to her, after discovering who Renata truly was, came back to her mind. It was time to move on from her husband. "I mean, to be honest, I don't really know how to...be happy, in a sense. But maybe I can learn with you."

A great big grin came to the Doctor's face. He kissed her hand again then pulled her into a tight hug. Renata welcomed it fast and hugged him as tight as possible.

"Take care of Gabriella for me, okay?" she mumbled after a moment. "I don't want anything to happen to her, nothing like Donna."

The Doctor agreed when he drew away from her. "Nothing. I'll be over-protective to the point she'll want to vent to you about me. But I swear that no one will touch a hair on her head."

"I trust you," Renata smiled.

"Well, alright then…" he awkwardly looked around once he realized the time to go was now. "I'll, um...be on my way, then." Renata nodded. "Here." He pulled out Martha's cellphone from his inside pocket. "I'll answer anytime you need me, I promise." He stood up from the couch and backtracked to the door. "I'll be back, Renata."

"I know," she nodded. "And I'll...be here, working on myself." The Doctor smiled one more time before heading out and when he did, Renata once again had to exhale like she'd been holding in her breath.

A few seconds later, Zhe came in. "The Doctor and Gabby are on their way out."

"Yes, I know," Renata wearily blinked.

Zhe came around the couch and bent down in front of her. "Can I offer you something?"

"Some advice wouldn't be bad."

"Well, alright then. What do you need advice for?"

Renata pursed her lips together and let herself think about everything in her lives that she'd regretted, the unhappiness that came with it - the pain - and she turned her head to the side. "What do you do when you love someone so much but...you just don't know how to be happy?" Zhe blinked in confusion. "Why is that even though I have a wonderful man waiting for me, I still want to...die?"

Zhe went into shock and after a few minutes of processing, she became worried.

"I want to die," Renata's whisper was the last noise to be made in the room for a good while.

#ocappreciation #dailyreblogs #doctor who #10th doctor #doctor who fics #10th doctor fics #dw imagines #10th doctor imagines #doctor who imagines #10th doctor fanfics #oc: Renata Cartwright #gabby gonzalez #fic: the beginning of everything

[vetoing-clocks]

Submission for the writing meme! would have to pry those thoughts and emotions from Raymond’s cold dead hands. @jakemenowpentecost

The writing meme

Reply (vague spoilers for “Sweet to tongue and sound to eye” up to chapter 4):

I’m fairly sure that by the point we’re at with this fanfic (ch.4), everyone knows that Ray has feelings for Coach too. Even Coach knows.

It’s been a key point throughout this whole fic that Ray doesn’t lie to Coach, that he’d rather stay silent, making it clear that he doesn’t want to talk about something, than lie. There’s also how his honesty is usually presented in a way that makes it easy to misunderstand what he’s saying.

While brainstorming this with Sofia, she said that there was no way these two could have gotten to this point without noticing that feelings were happening, and while Coach decided to stay in denial, Ray is sort of… along for the ride. He got over Mickey and he knows that what he feels for Coach is going beyond purely physical attraction, but he’s in no hurry to fall in love again. There’s also how he’s noticed that Coach might reciprocate (I mean… it’s not subtle), but he also doesn’t see any reason to rush things. What he knows is that something is happening here and that it could become a good thing, but that he isn’t in love yet. He’s in a comfortable point at which he thinks there’s potential, and he has no reason to believe it’ll go wrong. So yes, he’s free of his unrequited feelings, and he thinks that, if he ends up falling for Coach, he’ll find himself being loved back this time. He also thinks the two of them have time to figure things out and let all of this develop.

Coach asks him about someone trying to sweep him off his feet and Ray laughs because, well, he only has one person he wants right now and he doesn’t think Coach is the sort of person that would go for wooing; he’d expect Coach to be direct and clear about what he wants. So Ray assumes that Coach is talking about how their arrangement could end if Ray met someone else, and Ray has zero interest in anyone that isn’t Coach. When Ray talks about what he has to sort out, he’s thinking of his own developing feelings for Coach, and how he doesn’t want to act on them until he’s sure of them, that this isn’t a case of latching onto Coach because he happened to be there after Ray got over Mickey.

Also? That freaking bottle. I had to keep reminding myself that it was in the scene.

Anyone that this point is thinking something along the lines of “For fuck’s sake, Raymond Smith, you neurotic mess” has earned a virtual high five of solidarity from me.

#Look! A submitted post! #submission #fic: Area Woman Judges A Bunch Of Children's Books Editors

[chocolatequeennk]

Always Her Doctor, 4/6

John Tyler is a teacher at Farringham, but he’s been dreaming of another life–the life of an adventure known as the Doctor. When Marion Smith appears in Farringham, he’s immediately drawn to her. And why not? Marion Smith is the mirror image of Rose Tyler–the Doctor’s wife.

Reunion set during Human Nature/Family of Blood, with Christmas overtones.

This was part of @doctorroseprompts 31 Days of Ficmas. Now it fills the episode AU prompt from April.

Yes, this is now 6 chapters instead of 5. 

AO3 | FF.NET | TSP | Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3

After saying goodnight to John in the entryway, Rose practically floated up the stairs to her room. It had been so long since she’d had the simple pleasure of kissing her husband.

She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her lips. He’d been hesitant at first, almost shy. But when she’d sighed his name against his lips and combed her fingers through his hair, he’d shivered and let his suppressed memories of kissing her guide him. The sudden passion in his embrace had made Rose weak at the knees, and he’d gathered her close when she’d swayed against him.

In the end, the cold air seeping through their clothes had kept them from straying farther than a 1913 gentleman would go without being married. And while Rose chafed at the customs on one hand, a larger part of her wanted the Doctor to truly remember their entire past when they made love again.

Rose sighed and turned down the hallway her room was on, and an instant later, all of her soft, romantic thoughts were forgotten. Her door was ajar, letting light spill out into the hall.

Glancing around, she grabbed a figurine off of a curio cabinet. It wouldn’t do much to protect her if an enemy was in her room, but it was better than being unarmed.

She crept down the hallway, then took a deep breath and pushed the door open. The air rushed out of her lungs immediately, and she tossed the figurine onto the bed.

“You scared me, Martha,” she said to the woman sitting in the rickety wooden chair.

Martha raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been waiting for you for twenty minutes. I thought you’d be here when I got back, since Mr. Tyler was so concerned about getting you back where it was warm.”  

Rose pushed the door shut, then started taking off her warm winter clothes. “We stopped for a bit and watched the meteor shower,” she said vaguely, though she knew her pink cheeks probably gave away the truth.

Martha snorted. “I’m pretty sure you were doing more than star-gazing,” she said drily.

Rose considered her answer as she hung up her coat and scarf. On one hand, it wasn’t any of Martha’s business. She and John were both consenting adults—married consenting adults, even. But on the other hand, she needed to work with Martha to keep the Doctor safe for the next two weeks. Maybe they’d better talk about this now.

“We might have done,” she said, keeping her voice even. She wished she had a way to make tea. It would warm her up and make this conversation more pleasant. “Why does that bother you so much, Martha?”

Martha shook her head. “Because John Tyler will only be here for another two weeks. Don’t you think the Doctor will be upset if he gets back and you’ve fallen in love with another man?”

Rose’s eyes widened. All of Martha’s vaguely antagonistic comments over the last few weeks suddenly made sense. If she didn’t think John was the Doctor…

She took the other chair and studied Martha for a moment, wondering how best to help her understand. He was always the Doctor, no matter what.

The memory of her own confusion after the Doctor’s regeneration came to her, and she nodded once. “When I met the Doctor, he didn’t look anything like what he looks like now.”

Martha rolled her eyes. “I know. He wore pinstripes instead of tweed and a long brown overcoat.”

Rose shook her head. “Try jumpers and a leather coat.” She pictured her first Doctor’s face, with his big ears and bright blue eyes. “There’s this thing Time Lords can do when they’re about to die. It’s called regeneration. It saves their lives, but they have to change every cell of their bodies. They get a whole new face.”

Martha frowned. “I think the Doctor started to tell me about that a few months back,” she said. “We were… well, long story, but there was a chance he could die. And he told me there was a thing… but he never got to finish the sentence.”

Rose’s fingers clenched into the fabric of her dress at the thought that the Doctor had come so close to regenerating while she was gone. But she forced herself to relax and continue with the story.

“I was… so in love with him. And then he changed right in front of me. I didn’t understand at first, but it only took me a day to realise that he is the same man, always.”

She stared at Martha and thought she saw a glimmer of understanding in the other woman’s eyes. “I haven’t fallen in love with another man. John Tyler is the Doctor. And he is always my Doctor, whether he has two heads or no head, or…” She let out a loud breath and ran a hand through her hair. “If he regenerated as a woman. They would still be my Doctor, and I would still love them.”  

The room was silent for several minutes, Martha thinking and Rose waiting. Finally, Martha shrugged and looked up at Rose. “All right. I still don’t get it, but he’s an alien, and you’re his wife. If you say he’s still the Doctor…” 

Rose smiled, then leaned forward across the table. “Now, I’m guessing you’re actually here to tell me what you found.”

Martha sighed and shook her head. “Jenny and I went to Cooper’s field, where it looked like the shooting star had landed. There was nothing there—just a big open space.”

“But there should have been something,” Rose argued. “Even if it was just what was left of a meteor.”

“I know. But there was nothing there,” Martha repeated.

A static charge ran down Rose’s back, making the hairs on her arms stand up. She’d experienced this more than once at Torchwood. Mickey had called it her Spidey-sense, and each time they listened to her inklings of danger, it had saved lives.

“A big, open field…” Rose stood up and started pacing. “An open field would be the perfect place to land a spaceship,” she muttered.

“But there was nothing—unless it was cloaked,” Martha said, realising it before Rose could tell her.

“Exactly.” Rose stood in front of the fireplace, enjoying the warmth of the dying flames. “Every instinct I have is screaming at me to get him into the TARDIS and have him open the watch, but I know the Doctor chose to hide for a reason. Until I know for certain that they’ve found us…”

“I can go back to the TARDIS tomorrow and watch the video again,” Martha offered. “I know he talks about what to do if the Family finds us.”

Rose nodded. “And I’ll get the watch from John’s study. I’d feel better if I had it with me at all times.” She smiled wryly. “Since I got here over a month after you and John started working at the school, the Family shouldn’t suspect me of being associated with him at all.”

Martha glanced at the clock on the wall. “I should go to bed. Four o’clock comes awfully early.” She got up and walked to the door, then paused and looked back at Rose. “Rose? We will keep the Doctor safe. I promise.”

Rose sank onto the bed after Martha left and rubbed her hands over her face. She wanted to believe Martha’s reassurances, but it was hard when she could literally feel the danger lurking around the corner.

Bad Wolf. The ability to feel timelines moving around her had only started after the Game Station. She and the Doctor had barely begun exploring all the changes the Vortex had caused in her before Canary Wharf.

She bit her lip. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d told Martha she wanted to run to John and make him open the watch right this minute.

But the Doctor had hidden himself away for a reason, and after watching the video on a loop, she thought she understood.

If the Family were allowed to possess the body of a Time Lord, they would have a nearly immortal life. And with that life, they would roam across the galaxy, causing destruction wherever they went.

As a human, John was vulnerable. He could be killed. But the damage that could be done to the universe with the power of a Time Lord outweighed the danger to his life.

She had to choose to save the world, even if it meant losing him.

oOoOo

John watched the clock on the wall as it ticked the seconds off. It had only been eleven hours, twelve minutes, and two… three… four seconds since he’d said good night to Marion, but every minute without her in his arms seemed impossibly long.

Thankfully, he was giving the final exam in his first class of the day. Trying to lecture when his mind was wholly focused on waiting for the bell to ring would have been impossible.

He bit back a sigh and shoved his hands through his hair. Not that watching the clock is much better.

Finally, the second hand landed on the twelve for the last time, and the bell rang through the hallways. John leapt to his feet, ignoring the titters of laughter that drew from the boys.

“Everyone, pass your exams to the front of the row, please.” John waited impatiently for the exams to reach the front of the room, where he hurriedly gathered them. “And now you are dismissed.”

The boys gathered their belongings and filed out of the class, a second reminder unnecessary. The Christmas holidays would start tomorrow, and they were all eager to leave the school behind for a month.

As soon as the classroom was empty, John returned to his room, walking as quickly as he could with any sense of decorum. He stuffed the tests into a drawer of his desk, then collected the day’s rose from the vase on his desk.

The library was rather inconveniently located on the opposite side of the building from his room. At least with class in session, the hallways were empty enough that John felt free to move at a brisk jog, instead of a more sedate, professorial pace.

He was halfway there, mind filled with the imagined smile Marion would greet him with, when a sly voice stopped him.

“Where are you racing off to in such a hurry, Mr. Tyler?”

John slowed and looked over his shoulder at the tall senior boy loitering in the hallway. “Why aren’t you in class, Baines?” he asked, rather than answer the question.

Baines pushed off the wall and sauntered over to him, an insolent sneer on his face. “I forgot my book in my room.” He raised the thick volume he carried. “Mr. Carothers gave me leave to go back for it.”

John would have recognised the lie even if Baines hadn’t raised his eyebrow in an obvious challenge for him to call him on it. But the tug to be with Marion again overruled his normally strict attitude about rule-following.

“Well, you have it now. Best get to class before I have to tell Mr. Carothers that you dawdled.”

Instead of answering, Baines stepped closer to John and sniffed. John leaned away from him and stared the lad in the eyes. “Anything the matter, Baines?”

Brown eyes darkened, and a furrow appeared in between his eyebrows. “I thought…” He shook his head. “No, sir. Nothing, sir.”

“Then do as I said and get to class,” John said, his impatience making his voice sharp. Baines sketched a salute, then wheeled around and marched off.

“Impudent boy,” John muttered as he watched him go.

And then he felt the soft glow of Marion’s presence pull him forward, and all thoughts of Baines were forgotten.

oOoOo

Rose watched the clock above the library door as the second class period ticked away. John was usually here by now, and even though she could tell through their muted bond that he was fine, anxiety crept over her with each passing minute.

“Excuse me, Miss Smith?”

Rose started when Timothy Latimer called her name in a louder voice than she’d ever heard him use. “Library voices, Mr. Latimer,” she admonished.

His ears turned red, but he didn’t look away. “I apologise, Miss, but I tried to call your name three times before you heard me.”

It was Rose’s turn to blush. “Then the apology is mine, Timothy. What did you need?”

“I wanted to know if I could take a book home with me over the holiday. I haven’t finished reading about the Boxer Rebellion.”

“Of course,” Rose said, only feeling a twinge of guilt for the next librarian. She, Martha, and the Doctor would all be long gone before the next term began—as long as she could keep the Doctor’s watch safe.

Timothy narrowed his eyes, but before Rose could ask if something was wrong, a familiar figure appeared in the doorway. The brown hair was more unruly than John usually kept it, and years of watching the Doctor rake his hand through his hair told Rose exactly how he had gotten so disheveled.

The wide, beaming smile he gave her as he strode across the room was still the same, and Rose returned it automatically. My Doctor. He was here. He was still fine. She didn’t need to worry… and she wouldn’t, as soon as she had the watch in her hands.

Rose hardly noticed Timothy subtly edging away from her. John held out her rose of the day, and she brought it to her nose to sniff at the delicate pink petals.

“It’s beautiful, John.” She half-turned and added it to the full vase on her desk.

John caught her hand and brought it to his lips. “Not as beautiful as you, Marion.”

His low, intimate voice affected Rose exactly as she knew he had hoped. She’d heard that voice in her dreams, whispering sweet nothings and seductive promises in her ear.

She twisted her wrist so she could lace her fingers through his, then stepped closer to him and stretched up to whisper in his ear.

“Flatterer.”

He shook his head, and she could feel his breath against her cheek. “Never.”

“Good-bye, Mr. Tyler, Miss Smith.” Timothy smiled wryly at them when they jumped apart and dropped each other’s hands. “Mr. Tyler, I still need to return the book I borrowed from you on Mafeking. Will you be in your study this afternoon?”

John tugged on his red ear. “Yes, of course Mr. Latimer. Ah, thank you for… being so conscientious.”

Rose felt her cheeks grow hot when Timothy barely managed to hide his smile as he hurried out of the library. John turned to her after he was gone, an embarrassed smile on his face.

“I suppose we ought to be thankful Latimer was the only student here,” he said ruefully.

“And I suppose we shouldn’t count on being that lucky next time,” Rose added, completing his thought.

They shared a smile, then John brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it. “I think I ought to get back to my study.”

“So soon?” Rose protested. He usually stayed until almost the end of the class period, even though it meant he stayed up late into the night grading papers and writing his lectures.

John shook his head. “If I stay much longer, I won’t be able to stop myself from pulling you into a secluded corner of the library so I can kiss you again.”

He chuckled when Rose’s mouth dropped open. “I’ll see you this evening at 7:00, so we can go to the dance.”

Rose tilted her head and pursed her lips. “There’s one question I haven’t asked, John. Do you actually know how to dance?”

A wicked gleam lit his eyes, then John leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “Well, I’ve got the moves, but I wouldn’t want to boast.”

Then he straightened up and winked at her, before spinning around and walking out of the room—leaving a very flustered Rose Tyler in his wake.

oOoOo

Tim stood outside Mr. Tyler’s study and went over his plan once more. Miss Smith’s anxious thoughts that morning had been as clear to him as if she’d been speaking. Both she and Mr. Tyler—or the Doctor, as she called him—had been kind to him, and he wanted to help if he could. Hopefully, once he was in Mr. Tyler’s room, he would know what to do.

He straightened his shoulders, then knocked firmly on the door. It opened a moment later, and Mr. Tyler blinked down at him.

“Yes, Timothy?”

Tim held up the book. “I told you I would bring this back, sir,” he reminded, though he wouldn’t be surprised if his teacher hadn’t heard what he’d said.

Mr. Tyler frowned and took the book from him. He turned it over in his hands, then nodded when he saw the title. “Ah, yes. The Definitive Account of Mafeking by Aitchison Price.” He sounded just as surprised that he owned the volume as he had a month ago when Tim had borrowed it from him.

“Yes, sir. Thank you for suggesting I read it.” He hesitated. “And… And for your other suggestion,” he added. Letting his classmates and teachers truly see what he was capable of hadn’t been easy, but in the end, it had been easier than hiding.

“Part of my job as a professor,” Mr. Tyler said, and then stepped back to let Tim into the room.

The whispers started as soon as Tim passed through the doorway. He’d always been able to hear things other people couldn’t, known things he shouldn’t have known. It had gotten him in trouble more than once, but this time, it felt like someone else needed his help.

Tim belatedly realised he hadn’t replied to Mr. Tyler, and he pulled his attention away from the indiscernible voice. “Still, thank you. No other teacher took the time to notice.”

Mr. Tyler waved the book at him. “I told you you should be at the top of your class, didn’t I?” He turned and walked to the back of his room, before disappearing into the tiny closet he used as a library.

As soon as he was gone, Tim walked across the room to the fireplace. The voice was coming from this direction. “Yes, sir,” he said as he scanned the mantel, this time remembering to answer Mr. Tyler’s question.

The whispers were louder here, and when Tim pinpointed the source, his eyes widened. A watch, just like Miss Smith had been thinking about that morning.

“Aren’t you glad you stopped hiding who you are?” Mr. Tyler called from the closet.

At the same time, the voice in the watch became clear enough to understand. Take me. Hide me. Keep Rose safe.

Tim had only a moment to make up his mind. Once Mr. Tyler was back, his chance would be gone. He thought of the worry in Miss Smith’s eyes that morning, then snatched the watch up and dropped it into his pocket.

“Tim?”

He turned on his heel, his heart pounding wildly. “Yes sir?”

“I asked you a question.” Mr. Tyler raised his left eyebrow. “Aren’t you glad you stopped hiding who you are?”

Tim let out a slow breath and nodded once. “I am, sir,” he said truthfully.

Of course, now he was hiding something much more intriguing.

Mr. Tyler smiled and put his hand on his shoulder. “You’re a good man, Timothy Latimer. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Tim stared up at his teacher, barely aware of what he’d said. Instead, his mind was filled with visions of Mr. Tyler and Miss Smith, running together hand in hand, always laughing.

“Thank you, sir,” he managed to promise, though his voice croaked a little.

Mr. Tyler pushed the door open, and Tim shuffled towards the hallway, his mind still buzzing with the sensation of the voice seeping out of the watch.

“Right then,” Mr. Tyler said. “If I don’t see you again before you leave, I hope you have a Happy Christmas, and I look forward to having you in class again next term.”

“Happy Christmas, sir,” Tim replied. Then he fled the room, the pilfered watch heavy in his pocket.

Instead of going to his room, he made for a tiny cupboard underneath the servants staircase that he’d discovered made an excellent hiding place. Once the door was shut behind him, he pulled the watch out of his pocket and turned it over, letting the light from the single bare bulb catch the polished silver from different angles.

His thumb rested against the catch, and he held his breath before pushing it. Golden light streamed into his little hidey-hole, along with more visions of Mr. Tyler and Miss Smith.

You are not alone. Keep me hidden.  

Tim nearly dropped the watch when he heard the voice echoed in his mind, but he managed to catch it and snap it shut. That was Mr. Tyler’s voice.

He stared at the watch. Miss Smith was looking for this. She was worried about it.

I should take this to her.

As soon as he thought it, the voice in the watch disagreed. Danger is nearby. Keep Rose safe.

The desperate plea came through clearly, and once Tim grasped that Rose meant Miss Smith, he understood. He slid the watch back into his pocket, then peeked out of the cupboard and quickly walked down the hall. He would have to trust the Doctor to tell him when it was safe to take the watch to Rose.

oOoOo

John muttered curses under his breath as he undid the bowtie for the fifth time. The piece of silk was getting wrinkled, and he knew if he didn’t get it right this time, he would have to press it before he started again.

Luckily, a knock on his door distracted him and he stepped away from the mirror to open it. His mouth fell open when he saw Marion, a vision in red velvet. Her lip was caught between her teeth, and he wondered what on Earth she felt insecure about.

He held out his hand and pulled her into the room when she took it, leading her over to stand in front of the fireplace. “Marion, you are…” His gaze swept over her figure. “You are absolutely stunning, darling.”

Her cheeks turned pink. “Thank you, John. You’re looking dapper yourself—I love the charcoal grey pinstripes.”

John hummed and slid his hands into his jacket pockets. “I wanted something nicer than what I normally wear.”

Marion nodded, and now she seemed to be biting back a smile. “However, it looks like you aren’t quite ready to go,” she added, gesturing to the untied bowtie. “Do you need a hand?”

John sighed. “Would you? I’ve tried five times and can’t get the thing to work properly.”

Marion giggled and stepped closer to him, letting him catch a hint of the subtle perfume she wore. “Well lucky for you, I happen to be an expert.”

She reached for the silk, and a moment later, John’s heart stuttered when he felt her soft fingers brush against his jaw as she worked. He tried to train his gaze over the top of her head, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the bit of tongue that poked out of her mouth as she concentrated on her work.

It took her less than two minutes to get it tied, and then she brushed her hands down the lapels of his jacket, straightening it along the way. “There!” She beamed up at him. “Ready to go.”

John’s hands had found their way to Marion’s waist, and when she stepped back, he followed her.

She blinked, then her lips curved in an inviting smile. “We can’t linger too much longer,” she warned him as he leaned down.

He shook his head, brushing his nose against hers. “No one will notice if we’re a few minutes late.”

She laughed, and he felt the puff of air against his lips just before he kissed her. Marion slid her hands back over his chest to link them behind his neck, pulling him closer.

There was no hesitation or uncertainty in John’s kisses tonight. Rose tilted her head back as his lips moved lower, trailing kisses along her jaw and down her neck. Desire burned bright over their bond, and when John groaned against her throat, she knew he could feel it too.

She gasped when he ran his hands down her back, then lower still until they rested on her arse. She felt his lips curve up in a smile, and then he pulled her closer, instinctively seeking the friction they both craved.

Rose speared her fingers through his hair and brought his lips back to hers for a searing kiss. John touched her and kissed her in all the ways the Doctor had learned would undo her, and she was quickly forgetting the reasons why she shouldn’t lead him to the nearby bed.

Her fingers were hovering over his tie when the door burst open, banging off the wall. Rose gasped and whirled around as Martha skidded into the room.

“Martha—”

Rose put her hand on John’s arm before he could berate his friend. The fear in the other woman’s dark eyes made her stomach sink, and she was afraid she knew what Martha had to say.

“What is it, Martha?”

She nodded and took a deep breath. “They’ve found us. I’ve seen them.”

Rose spun around to grab the watch off the mantel while Martha kept talking.

“They look like people, like us, like normal. I’m sorry, but he’s got to open the watch. Where is it?”

Rose blinked, hoping that she just wasn’t seeing the watch and it would appear when she opened her eyes again. It didn’t.

“Not here,” she said, forcing the words past her numb lips.

“What do you mean, it’s not here?” Martha ran over and looked at the mantel herself. “Oh, my God. Where’s it gone? Where’s the watch?”

John stared at the two women standing with their backs to him. There was something deeply unsettling about the way their attention was fixated on the mantel and the supposedly missing watch.

“What are you talking about?” he asked testily.

They shared a long look, then turned around to face him. “You had a watch,” Martha said, pronouncing the words precisely. “A fob watch. Right there,” she added, pointing at the empty mantel.  

“Did I?” John scratched at his cheek. “I don’t remember.”

Martha opened her mouth, but Marion put a hand on her arm, and after a moment, Martha pressed her lips into a thin line and nodded stiffly.

John watched warily as Marion walked over to him and took his hands in hers. Nothing this evening had gone the way he’d planned. They were supposed to be at the dance right now, twirling around the floor together and laughing with the giddiness of new love.

There was no giddiness in Marion’s eyes as she looked up at him, and John braced himself for whatever she was about to say.

“John, do you trust me?”

He blinked, then shook his head. “What?” That was so far from what he’d expected her to say; surely he’d heard wrong.

“Do you trust me?” she repeated, squeezing his hands to emphasise the words.

John smiled and relaxed a little. “Always. With everything I am.”

Marion’s eyes watered, and he let go of one of her hands to reach up and brush a few tears off her eyelashes. “That was an easy question,” he told her sincerely.

She took a deep breath, then nodded slowly. “The next part won’t be as easy, John,” she warned him. “I’m going to say things you won’t understand, but you need to trust me and do exactly as I say. Your life—all of our lives—depend on it.”

John felt like he was floundering in waters deeper than he could handle safely, but Marion’s steady gaze held his panic at bay. “What do we need to do?” he asked.

She smiled, then let go of his hands and paced in front of the fireplace. “We need to get back to the TARDIS,” she said decisively. “She can keep us safe, and we can use her scanner to search for the watch.”

“What if the Family already has the watch?” Martha asked.

None of the words they were using made any sense, but John could tell they meant something important. He watched Marion, waiting for her answer.

She shook her head. “Then it doesn’t matter where we go. They will take this planet, and every other planet. The whole universe will end in destruction.”

A heavy silence settled over the room, then Martha cleared her throat. “Well. Let’s hope they don’t, then.”  

#ficandchips #ten x rose #dwfic #fic by Nancy #doctorroseprompts #cq's fic: always her doctor #reunion fic #human nature au #romance! #fluff! #adventure! #drama!

[geekns]

The rules are as follows: go to page 7 of your WIP, go to the 7th line, share 7 sentences, and tag 7 more writer-bloggers to continue the challenge.

I was tagged by @grassangel  who specificially inquired about projects that are not PMS but i’m including it since it’s the only thing i’m actively working on. I haven’t even written another words of Princeling!

1 - PMS ch. 14 (ugh this is random and sounds terrible)

She made a sound of disagreement but was rather at his mercy.

“Just while we eat?” he cajoled. She rolled her eyes.

She dozed while he puttered the in the kitchen. She felt warm and safe hearing him cook for her. She wanted to try to feed herself this time.

A few minutes later he was setting food on the table between them.

2 - Tea with the Brig (doesn't have seven pages, only five; this is from page one)

“I say, who are you?” the Brig demanded, jumping to his feet.  “Where have you brought me?”  His chair thumped to the rugged floor, overturned.  The doors behind Missy opened abruptly, and he backed away from the sound.  She heard Seb quietly threatening someone, restraining them from entering the small sitting room.  The Brig was gazing around her tea room in open shock.  Sunshine streaming through curtains, potted plants, an ebony and velvet changing screen, a chaise lounge.

3 - still untitled twissy fic should have finished ages ago (i’m so sorry)

And she felt as if she were being watched.  She scanned her surroundings, pretended to look at a watch--not that she had or needed one--didn't see anything out of the ordinary.  Nothing was out of place, just quiet as death.  She tilted her head back, crossed her ankles, and closed her eyes.

After a long minute there was a quiet rustling and a breath of air.  Missy kept her eyes closed and refrained from crinkling her nose: someone needed to bathe. Small hands touched her knees.

4 - Petrichor sequel that i sometimes return to but may never finish (ugh this is an awkward section, thus why it’s unposted)

But he was willing to try to do this for Donna if she understood the risk to herself.

“Yes,” she said again.

“Lastly, you will not bear these children until they are born, it is...” he didn't want to say impossible, he didn't actually know that for certain.  “advisable that the male carries the eggs after a certain point.”

“Eggs?” Donna confirmed, doubt in her voice.  Humans are mammal, was he trying to tell her that Time Lords weren't?

“There's no word for it in your languages,” he explained.

5 - Epilogue to Something Blue (from page five, again no seventh page)

The temple was nearly fully submerged itself, its marble columns shining beneath the indigo water.  It had an upper level that was still mostly above water that he was headed for.  He cut power and drifted the last bit, pulling up to a balcony.  He leapt over the railing, his feet only partially submerged.  It only took a moment to tie the boat up, and then he was ascending a few stairs into the temple's interior.

There were no plaques or displays or velvet ropes in here.  This part of the temple was typically off limits to the public, though clean enough that perhaps VIP tours or fundraisers were perhaps an event.

6 - Incubus (now read this, i fully intend to delete this scene at a later date but it’s still in the draft)

The Doctor squirmed, resisting the urge to tell Jack what was going to happen next time they met:

“I don't know the details, Jack,” he lied.

“And even if you did, you wouldn't say anything,” he laughed.  “I knew what I was dropping on you when you left me at Torchwood, after that year that never was.  I could have stayed with you, but I knew that it was time to get out.  That's when I decided not to pine after you anymore, start trying to form some new connections.”

“And now?”

7 - Unicorn (Simm!Master regenerates into Missy post-End of Time, now non-canon)

It hurt, it was too warm, but she endured it.  She grabbed a bar of soap and started scrubbing harshly at her pale skin, trying to bring some color to it and get rid of the horrid stench of living rough.  She couldn't even remember the last time she had taken a bath, nor a shower.  Her thoughts started to wander again.  The Doctor had never been rough with her, but she had been rough with him.  A part of him hadn't liked it, but the part of her that had been going mad had wanted it.  She had wanted him to hate her, or to at least act as if he did.

8 - A Thousand More (Simm!Master regenerates post-the Doctor Falls...i have no memory of writing this!!! From page two out of five.)

She gradually regained control of her bodily processes and limbs, and told her body to sit up.

The third thing she noticed was her hair. It was dark, which suited her just fine, but it was everywhere. She had more hair than that bitch River Song. It was at least waist-length and had a mind of its own. Portions of it were damp from her tears, and it was hanging in her face now, wild curls frizzing frightfully and completely out of control. It simply would not do; she would have to tame the mop and quickly.

9 - In Case of Emergency (Ten, Donna, and Martha stick around a bit longer after “the Doctor’s Daughter” and get to see Jenny regenerate)

"Jenny," the Doctor gasped, voice tight with unshed tears.  "Oh, you came back to me, you regenerated."

"Is that what that was?" Jenny asked, reaching to pull Donna into the embrace she was sharing with her father. “I'd never felt pain anything like it, I was so scared."  She buried her face into Donna's chest, turning away from her father entirely.  She was shorter now, just as petite but less developed as a woman, with curlier hair now in a beautiful strawberry blonde. Her eyes searched for Donna's approval, and were brown, the same color as the Doctor's, which was jarring to the extreme, but it was still Jenny looking out at her.

10 - The Doctor’s Backup Plan (mpreg crack, pure crack)

The Doctor blinked at her.

“I suppose,” he allowed.  “I hadn't thought of that.  I guess I'll put on some protection...not that you're likely to be impregnated by me.  I doubt that we're compatible.”

“You don't know for sure?” Donna asked, amazed that he was admitting to a gap in his vast knowledge.  She often wondered if he actually knew half of what he claimed to.

11 - Slap (basically the Doctor gets turned on when Donna slaps him??? Donna’s POV, terribad)

Had he ever done this before?  The pervert probably had, multiple times. But Rose was the name and size of a mere girl, not a real woman. Donna would make sure that he forgot her.  She wagered that Rose had never even considered playing rough like this, no Rose was a porcelain doll for a pedestal, not a woman with deeper needs.  Not a woman capable of fulfilling an old man's darkest fantasies.  And that's what he was, she realized...she had no idea how old this man was, but his eyes were old, and tired, and seen more than even she could imagine.

12 - And Then She Forgot (Donna tries to go back to work at the temp agency after the mindwipe)

Donna blinks at him, stunned, and tries to regroup as quickly as possible. She bursts into tears, laying it on as thick as she dares.  She can feel the eyes of the other employees and potential temps on her as she sobs away.  Kevin sighs, walks around the desk, and offers her a tissue box.

“I suppose you didn't hear about the accident,” she manages to take a tissue between sobs.

“Accident?” he asks dryly, sitting on the edge of his desk with his arms crossed.

13 - Smith, Jones, Noble, and Mott (AU series 3 ep “Smith and Jones”)

“Sarah!” he exclaimed as they hugged each other tightly.  “This is Donna, and this is Martha.  Girls, this is Sarah Jane Smith.”

“Hello.”

“Hi.”

“No Rose or Mickey this time?” Sarah Jane asked, smiling at the two women warmly, albeit a little confused.

“Uh, no, not after...” the Doctor lowered his voice. “...Canary Wharf.”

14 - Desert Fox (original fic, very old)

When I wake the lights have been dimmed, and I no longer have to squint against their harshness.  Logan is seated beside me, his hands clasped around one of mine, his head resting on our hands.  I feel no pain, only relief, comfort, safety.  I realize suddenly that this is why I have chosen to stay with him:  he is the only human I have ever felt safe with.  I lift a hand to brush his hair out of his face.  He had grown it back out, has yet to cut it again.

"How are you feeling, miss...?"

I get lots of ideas but not much traction. I tag @basmathgirl @missysrehabilitation @ellym3lly @perrydowning @emilyweepsforpilfrey @kylorenvevo @xreyoflight and anyone else who may want to take a whack at it

#writing #fanfic #this is embarrassing tbh #tagged

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Sunday, April 29 - Monday, April 30

ANGEL: Cordy and I'll go check out the gym. WESLEY: My thought exactly. CORDY: I'll drive. GUNN: What are we waiting for? WESLEY: Everyone know what they're doing? Good. (They all leave - except for Fred, still standing in front of the reception desk.) FRED: I'll just stay here. (Laughs) Okay. I'll do that.

~~Carpe Noctem~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

The True Champion (Angel/Wesley, G) by katleept

The Proverbial Firecracker (Giles/Jenny, T) by ScienceOfficerWillowRosenberg (workaholicSlacker)

Unrequited (Angel, Wesley, G) by ladyemma42

Borderlands!Billow meet Rhys (Buffy/Willow, G) by lesbidar

CHOSEN Series: Season One - EPISODE FIVE: DECISIONS, DECISIONS (OC Slayer, unrated) by MaylennaFanFictionHQ

[Chaptered Fiction]

A Nice Little Business Ch. 3 (OC vampire, G) by lilachigh

Odes to William Pratt Ch. 1 (Ensemble, G) by OffYourBird

Faith: The Series: missing scenes Ch. 5 (Faith/Xander, M) by bob parley

Of Magic and Lies, Ch. 1 (Buffy/Oz, T) by JessAngelus

Ripper Ch. 3 (Jenny/Giles, OC, M) by DelilahBunny

Somewhere I know you're out there, Ch. 25 (Faith/Giles, M) by LoreoftheFaye

Save the Last Dance for Me, Chapter 3 (Buffy/Spike, E) by Passion4Spike

What She Deserves, Chapter 13 (Buffy/Spike, M) by Jane Smith

Exquisite Consequences (Part Lobster), Chapter 6, Chapter 7 and Chapter 8 (Buffy/Spike, unrated) by Multiple Authors

If I Should Dust Before I Wake, Chapter 35 (Buffy/Spike, E) by -Carrie-Ann-

Broad Strokes, Chapter 4 (Buffy/Spike, E) by AlwayswiththeBS

A Small Boat on the Ocean, Chapter 55 (Buffy/Spike, T) by sandy_s

We had to save the world, Chapter 16 (Buffy/Spike, E) by sus

Wonderment, Chapter 68 (Buffy/Spike, E) by holetoledo

Hindsight, Chapter 26 and Hindsight, Chapter 27 (Buffy/Spike, M) by Toften

Smoke in the mirror, Chapter 12 (Buffy/Spike, E) by Axell

Something Old, Chapter 9 (Buffy/Spike, M) by yellowb

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork: Some Willow Manips by xspike4evax

Artwork: Willow/Spike/Angel, Willow/TVD & The Originals by xspike4evax

Screencaps: Buffy: the Vampire Slayer Season 4 Episode 4 Screencaps by allcapsallpaper

Screencaps: Buffy: the Vampire Slayer Season 4 Episode 5 Screencaps by allcapsallpaper

Artwork: Willow Rosenburg (NSFW) by sexualbuzz

Artwork: Buffy The Vampire Slayer Wallpaper by sicrazy

Artwork: Young Giles Meme by rupert-giles

Artwork: Dark Willow by foxycasbones

Artwork: Buffy Summers by foxycasbones

Artwork: Buffy Summers by unicornado

Artwork: Willow & Tara by sanshodelaine

Artwork: Willow & Tara by sanshodelaine

Video: I Don't Dance - Buffyverse Footloose by Michael Girling

Video: Buffy Hey Mickey! by vampirefan02

[Reviews & Recaps]

BtVS S11 Giles #3 - Girl Blue: You Can’t Be Told by gite63

S7.E12 Potential by i-slay-we-slay

S7.E12 Killer in Me by i-slay-we-slay

S7.E10 Bring on the Night by i-slay-we-slay

S7.E11 Showtime by i-slay-we-slay

BTVS Rewatch Season 3 Episode 20: The Prom by thedoctorsprincess

BTVS Rewatch Season 3 Episode 19: Choices by thedoctorsprincess

Buffy - 1x08 - I Robot, You Jane by zoeywatchesthis

Buffy - 1x09 - The Puppet Show by zoeywatchesthis

Buffy - 1x10 - Nightmares by zoeywatchesthis

BTVS Rewatch Season 4 Episode 1: The Freshman by thedoctorsprincess

BTVS Rewatch Season 3 Episode 22: Graduation Day, Part 2 by thedoctorsprincess

BTVS Rewatch Season 3 Episode 21: Graduation Day, Part 1 by thedoctorsprincess

PODCAST: Hypable Harm's Way & Soul Purpose

PUBLICATION: Comicbook.com GILES #2

[Community Announcements]

Challenge 597 - mourn at femslash100

Contest Week, Day 1 by fic-promptly

[Fandom Discussions]

Still making my way through the Season 10 Buffy Comics by shadowkat

I'm re-watching Buffy and Angel on Hulu now by shadowkat

When and what made you start shipping Bangel and what did you wish happened with them?? by foreverbangel

Jewelry Symbolism by godslittlesister

Why Buffy/Faith is the only pairing that makes sense by baumanhp

Character meme- Rupert Giles by kyliafanfiction

Spangel headcanons by shadowsfandomhellhole

I customized the floor of the Buffy library. by action-figures-in-action

Cordelia by warrenworthington3

Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel Fic Recs by veliseraptor

Giles: Roux, Taara, Star and Buddhism by gite63

Anti Xander observations by kingcobrakai1972

Why is Buffy so quick to kill Anya in Selfless? by counterpunches

Weslah by lev36

Who are your favorite and least favorite characters and why? by danipup

PODCAST: The Sunnydale Fanfic ClubThe Limericked Adventures of Bob the Hellmouth Cop - March Contest Winner

[Articles, Interviews, and Other News]

PUBLICATION: Previews World A Newborn For Buffy?

#btvs #ats #buffy the vampire slayer #angel the series #fan fiction #fan art #meta

[megabadbunny]

No Place Like Hohm (5/8)

“Right, new plan,” said the Doctor. “Run!”

***

(Aka the obligatory post-GitF fic, for anyone else who ever wondered what might have taken place between a trip to France and an adventure in a parallel universe. Ten/Rose, all ages, full of angst, fluff, a pinch of romantic bickering, a dash of mutual pining, and a dollop of swashbuckling adventure!) 

***

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Chapter 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8

Alarms screeched and blared overhead, lights flashing and popping off the console like a police car as the TARDIS violently quaked all around them.

“Are you usually so bad at this?” Mickey yelled over the din, clinging to the railing for dear life. “The TARDIS doesn’t like these landings,” the Doctor explained. “We’re getting ready to materialize in a highly public space, full to brimming with spectators. No chance we’ll go overlooked—we’re establishing ourselves as part of the timeline, permanently. Creating a fixed event!” “And that’s bad?” asked Mickey, struggling to remain upright as the ship jostled and shook around him. “It’s a tricky business. Anytime we land, it’s really best to disturb things as little as possible—little tweak here, little tweak there, try to blend in then disappear. You know, help where we can without making too much of a splash!” “Yeah, right!” Mickey snorted in disbelief. The Doctor scoffed amidst a new set of sirens wailing around them. “Excuse me, I happen to be very good at what I do! So unless you want to fight your way through the pre-games and gallivant about the tournament with loincloths and spears, we’re going to have to bend the rules a bit!” “Why?” asked Mickey. “Not that I want to wear a loincloth,” he added hurriedly. The TARDIS gave one last great shudder as it began to materialize. After the Doctor input a series of commands, anchoring the TARDIS to this time, this place, the chaos around them slowly began to calm, lights fading and noise ebbing. The Doctor grabbed his coat. “Because,” he said, averting his gaze from Mickey’s as he pulled his coat on. “It’s Rose.” He looked up to see Mickey watching him with a shrewd expression. He didn’t like it. Something about Mickey the Idiot being shrewd—or even worse, astute—just made him grumpy. “Well?” he snapped. “Are you going to be useless in here or are you going to be useless out there?” Mickey scoffed. “Like I’d let you take all the credit for the rescue!” “That’s the spirit!”

Trainers squeaking against the ramp, the Doctor sprinted toward the TARDIS doors. “Well, this is it, Mr. Smith,” he said, placing his hands on the door handles. “Out into the unknown!” He drank in a deep breath and flung the doors open. The Doctor and Mickey stepped out into the stadium, Mickey throwing up an arm to shield his eyes from the bright lights shining overhead. In-person, the Doctor could indeed confirm that the arena had been terraformed into a mountainous landscape, but it was more than that—aside from the sloping hills and jutting rocks, it had an almost theme-park feel to it, complete with tinny music, plaster trees, cheesy fake castle-ruins, and at the far end, a giant, towering mountain crowned with a white citadel that could have been airlifted right off the top of Cinderella’s castle in Disneyworld. The arena looked, for all the world, like a glorified sword-and-sorcery film set. To top it all off, the entire stadium was surrounded by five-meter-high slick white walls, upon which were mounted giant speakers, huge floodlights, and dozens of cameras. And just back from those walls, a massive audience—thousands of people, maybe tens of thousands, if the Doctor were to venture a guess—sat protected behind black one-way screens. The Doctor wondered at that. The population of Hohm was quite small by most planets’ standards—it would be a stretch to say that it had five thousand people between all its habitable continents. So who were all of these audience members? And what was the story behind this entertainment technology? He hadn’t seen so much as a simple electric light back in town—where did all of this technology come from, and why didn’t more Hohmish people have it? “Well, at least no one’s seen us yet, right?” Mickey piped up behind him. As if on cue, a horn boomed out through the speakers and Mickey and the Doctor found themselves smack in the center of a pair of spotlights. The audience surrounding them began to boo and hiss, their shouts filling the stadium and bouncing off the walls. “Just had to say it, didn’t you?” the Doctor muttered before grabbing Mickey by the wrist. “Come on!” “It looks like we’ve got us some stowaways, ladies and gentlefolk and sundry!” an announcer boomed overhead as the Doctor and Mickey darted over the uneven earth. “Security experts are telling me we have no idea how they smuggled their aircraft inside—stay tuned for updates on whether they keep their jobs after this! In the meantime, we’re waiting on the final word from City Council on whether or not their entries will be disqualified…” “What happens if we’re disqualified?” Mickey asked. “Wellll, they’ll probably kill us on the spot.” “What?” “Oh, come on, Mickey!” the Doctor shouted back gleefully. “This is the stuff adventures are made of!” Leaping over a grassy knoll, the Doctor was pleasantly surprised at how well Mickey was keeping up with him as they both ran nearly side-by-side, legs and arms pumping in mad unison. Had Mr. Smith been practicing? The two of them scrambled up a set of steps carved into a hill, at the summit of which stood a flag flapping lazily in the breeze. It looked like a marker of some sort—the Doctor was willing to bet they would find the captives waiting for them on the other side. “All right,” the Doctor yelled, “We should find Rose at the bottom of the hill. All we have to do is nab her, then we can split back to the TARDIS and soar on out of here. Easy-peasy!” But when they reached the hill’s crest, and gazed down at the stone plinth and pillars below, the Doctor just stopped. And stared. It was empty. The captives’ area—which it most definitely was, there was nothing else it could be, not unless the city council had set up a stone platform and two dozen chain-covered stone pillars for kicks—was completely deserted, its former inhabitants gone without a trace. The pillars’ chains dangled limply where people should be. “What?” Mickey gasped out, eyes wide in disbelief. “Where the hell’s Rose?” The Doctor scoured the surrounding area for any clue, any hint, even a shred of a splinter of a shadow of an idea, but he came up empty. “I don’t know,” he murmured, panic thudding dully in his throat.

***

A few moments earlier…

“—a return to tradition!” The crowd erupted in a frenzy of noise once again, stomping and cheering and clapping and shouting, and if nothing else, Rose wished her hands were free so that she could cover her ears. The din was so loud, it reverberated in her chest, pressing against her eardrums and ringing in her teeth. It even rattled the chains holding her captive. She screwed her eyes shut against the overwhelming sound. It will be all right, she reminded herself, straining to hear her own thoughts over the relentless screaming. This was an adventure just like any other. The Doctor had saved her from much worse scrapes than this—hell, she’d managed to save herself a time or two. She was going to be fine. Rose chanced a look over at Dyana, chained to the pillar next to her. Dyana flashed her an encouraging smile. “It’ll be all right!” she shouted, or possibly mouthed—it was impossible to tell with all the noise, but Rose appreciated the sentiment all the same. Dyana was right, more right than she knew. If her plan didn’t work, then the Doctor would save them; it was only a question of whether he would save them now, in the stadium, or later after everything had settled down. It would hardly be the first forced marriage he’d saved Rose from, after all. Rose just needed to be patient. She believed that wholeheartedly until the dragon soared overhead. Mouth falling open, Rose shook her head, growing dizzy with disbelief. But surely it couldn’t be real…? A hush fell over the crowd, blanketing the stadium with terrified silence. Rose could only think everyone else was just as shocked as she was—everything she’d seen and she still couldn’t trust her eyes. Huge and scaled and powerfully muscled, with great bat’s-wings casting massive tremors through the air after every stroke, the dragon bore a massive pair of horns atop its head, setting off lines of dinosaur-ridges down its back. Its great scaly flanks glistened scarlet, its eyes flashed golden, and its wicked claws glittered black. The creature looked like something straight out of a movie or a storybook, except none of those beasts ever looked so huge or so capable of tearing a human apart as if they were made of tissue paper. The dragon passed overhead and out of sight, toward the far end of the stadium, where Rose knew the Champions awaited the start of the pre-games. Seconds later, the arena shook with the force of an earth-shattering roar. “Well, that wasn’t so bad,” said Rose, her voice trembling only a little bit. “Maybe its bark is worse than its—” Dozens of screams drifted their way, ear-splitting shrieks cut-off mid-sound. Then, silence again. “—bite,” Rose finished in a whisper, feeling the blood drain from her face. “Well, would you look at that,” the announcer’s voice boomed overhead, and even he sounded shaken. “The pre-games have barely begun, and we’re already down four Champions. Nothing but ashes, ladies and gentlefolk and others. Now that’s what I call efficient!” “But it won’t hurt us, right?” Vareem shouted over the swelling sound of the audience around them. “Not like the city would let anything happen to the prizes—right?” Dyana did not answer, her eyes fixed toward the far end of the stadium. She was waiting, Rose knew, and probably had little attention to spare for anything or anyone else. “They did say this year was a return to tradition,” Rose realized aloud. “What were these things like in the past?” Now it was Vareem’s turn to go pale. Amidst more screams from the Champions and more cheers from the audience, Rose frantically scanned the stadium for any sign of the Doctor, but there was no flash of blue, no hint of engines vworp-vworping into existence. But surely he was looking for her. He had to be. He wouldn’t have just stranded her on a strange planet after their fight, right? Certainly he wouldn’t have abandoned her? (Right, and he wouldn’t abandon her on a spaceship in the 51st-century, either.) “Forget this,” Rose muttered as the voice overhead announced two more deaths-by-dragon. Wrists struggling against her chains, pulling so hard that she was sure to find bruises there later, she reached into her hair and pulled out two hairpins. Twisting her arms, she just managed to insert a hairpin into one of her manacles. “What are you doing?” Dyana hissed. “That’s not part of the plan!” “Yeah, well, last I checked, dragons weren’t a part of the plan either,” Rose shot back. She jiggled the hairpins about, straining to hear the tumblers inside while remembering Keisha’s instructions on one of several youthful-indiscretion-filled evenings back at the Estate. Rose grinned like a madwoman when she felt one of the tumblers click into place. “Besides,” she said, panting with exertion, “what good is a plan if you can’t improvise a little?” The dragon screeched out another deafening roar, shaking the ground beneath their feet. “Sod the plan,” said Vareem. “Do me next!”

***

A few moments later…

“Did someone already take her?” Mickey asked. Scrutinizing the land around them, the Doctor shook his head. “No,” he murmured. “None of the so-called Champions have made it this far yet.” “How do you know?” The Doctor pointed to the mountain towering at the end of stadium. “That’s where everyone is headed—the citadel up top is where competitors have to take their prize and claim it. So it’s a fair bet the pre-games took place at the opposite end—” the Doctor pointed back the way they came, “—that way.” “And ours are the only footprints coming from that direction,” Mickey realized aloud, glancing at the ground beneath their feet. “Exactly. Good eye.” “So what happened to all the captives?” “I’m guessing that one way or the other, the captives are all headed straight for the citadel right now,” the Doctor said, speaking to himself just as much as Mickey as he retraced their steps back up the hill. “Our best bet would be to get back to the TARDIS and try to pick them up before—” He froze. Several dozen hooded Champions dotted the landscape between them and the TARDIS. Several dozen hooded Champions with bows and arrows, boomerangs and spears and swords. Several dozen hooded Champions with an assortment of deadly weapons and a bone to pick with the two sneak-in contestants. One of them let out a shout, brandishing his weapon high in the air, and charged for Mickey and the Doctor. The rest followed. “Right, new plan,” said the Doctor. “Run!”

***

The freed captives sprinted toward the mountain, dozens of pairs of slippered feet slapping frantically against the rocky earth. “So your people won’t panic if they don’t find us back there, right?” Rose asked. “They’ll figure it out,” Dyana gasped as she ran, her skirts hiked up and flapping about her knees. “We just need to make it as close to the top of the mountain as we can. My people will find us and claim everyone who doesn’t want to be a bride-prize!” “And if the Doctor gets there first, he can just claim all of us.” “Right. But he’ll set us free afterward, won’t he?” “Absolutely,” Rose shot back. She thought of the look on the Doctor’s face when he found out he’d just been saddled with twenty-something wives, and she laughed. “You’ve got nothing to worry about!” “Except for the other Champions,” Vareem pointed out, casting a worried look over her shoulder. Just at that moment, almost as if they’d only been waiting for someone to say it, several hooded Champions came hurtling out from behind the trees. One of them pounced on Vareem, slapping a golden chain on her wrist before she had a chance to react. A horn sounded overhead. “Our first prize has been claimed, honored guests!” the announcer’s voice boomed over the arena. “Let’s see if he can keep her!” Another Champion seized a captive and the horn sounded once again. “Shona!” Dyana called out in dismay, only to see Shona squeal with delight when her captor tore off her hood. The horse-woman pulled Shona in for a quick kiss and she happily responded in kind. “True love, gentle viewers!” the announcer shouted. “Always warms the soul to see two sweethearts reunited in the arena!” “It’s all right!” Shona told Dyana and Rose as she ran past them, hand-in-hand with her captor—or her girlfriend, rather, Rose told herself. “Keep going!” “Well, that’s actually sort of sweet, isn’t it?” Rose laughed, and Dyana nodded in agreement. They reached the base of the mountain, and both of them darted up after Vareem and her would-be Champion. Vareem struggled against the chain that bound her to him, kicking and pulling back with all her strength. The Champion struggled to hold onto her, but his feet were steady and his grip true. “Hang on, Vareem!” Dyana called out. “We’re coming for—” Her shout was sliced in half by something hurtling straight into her, knocking her into the ground. Rose whipped round just in time to see a giant boomerang bouncing off Dyana and zipping back to its Champion, who ran forward and slapped a chain on Dyana’s wrist. “Dyana!” Rose cried, halting in her tracks. “Behind you!” Dyana shouted, and Rose turned just in time to see a Champion sneak up behind her, his face hidden by one of the Champions’ hoods. He twirled a golden chain in one hand and cast it at Rose—it clamped onto her wrist and tightened, winding around her wrist like a snake. With a shout, Rose pushed and pulled, fingernails scrabbling uselessly against the links, but the chain remained stubbornly tight. The Champion yanked on it, pulling Rose toward him. Rose swore under her breath. It was that traitorous cad Geoffrynn under the hood. It had to be. Pitching forward, Rose balled her hands into fists. “Oh, I am so gonna murder you!” she yelled, and instead of waiting for him to reel her in, she ran full-pelt at him. Surprised, he stumbled back, fumbling for a weapon at his side, but Rose was too fast—she’d closed the gap between them within seconds. With all the force of her momentum behind her, Rose punched him in the face. “That’s for drugging me!” Rose shouted as he stumbled back again, reeling in surprise. Before he had a chance to recover, Rose sprang forward. Drawing her hand back, she slapped him in the jaw with a satisfying thwack. “And that’s for being a lying, two-faced git!” she shouted as he tripped over his own two feet, falling to the— Wait. His own two feet? Standing over the fellow, Rose bent down and ripped the hood off his face only to find it wasn’t Geoffrynn at all—it was his smarmy human friend. “The hell?” Rose demanded. But she didn’t have time to mull things over in her head any further than that—all around her, she could see other Champions tackling and capturing prisoners, binding their wrists with prehensile golden chains before they dragged them away, hauling them up the mountain like so much pirate’s treasure. The announcer’s voice boomed all round the stadium with each capture and the audience shrieked and cheered in reply. Well. That just made Rose even more bloody stubborn. Upon feeling another strong yank on the chain, Rose slipped out of her delicate golden slippers and planted her feet firmly in the dirt, using her toes as ten little anchors. Geoffrynn’s friend (who didn’t deserve the dignity of a real name, Rose thought angrily) tugged until Rose’s feet skidded through the grass and tripped over the hem of her dress, tearing a hole in the flimsy fabric. “Stop!” Rose shouted, pulling back on the chain in a tenacious tug-of-war. But her arms shook with the strain—that blasted idiot was stronger than he looked—and soon she found herself dragged toward him. “Stop it!” she shouted again. “I don’t want this! I don’t want to be your bride-prize!” Her captor stopped pulling for a second as he pushed up from the ground, a smirk flitting across his face. “Really?” he asked, his grip tightening as Rose tugged on the chain again. “Why not?” Rose struggled to find the words—surely he wasn’t that thick, surely it was so obvious she didn’t actually need to tell him…? “I don’t know you?” she said, mouth gaping in disbelief. “And I don’t want to be your property? It’s pretty basic stuff!” The Champion threw his head back and laughed. “Wow,” he said, shaking his head. “A girl in town during festival-time, who flirts with you, accepts your tokens, and then says she doesn’t want you? Sure thing, sweetheart. That’s hilarious. You’re funny.” Laughter subsiding, his smile grew wicked and predatory, as if he suddenly had more teeth than he did before, and sharper ones, too. “I like funny in a girl,” he said, his voice darkening. The words summoned up nausea in Rose’s gut but she tamped it down, pushed it away. As the Champion gave her chain one last mighty pull, Rose threw herself to the ground. If he wanted to take her up the mountain, he would have to drag her dead weight there. “Oh, come on,” the captor sighed in frustration, pulling at the chain and swearing under his breath when Rose’s body budged only an inch. “You’re gonna have it so easy! I’ve got money—you’ll never have to lift a finger again in your life. I’m not gonna shout at you like those other jerks, I’d never smack you around or anything. Hell, I’ll even let you out of the house sometimes, if you ask nice!” “Well now, if that isn’t an enticing offer,” a familiar voice chimed up behind Rose, “then I don’t know what is.” Rose sat up and whirled around to see the Doctor standing just a few meters off, a cheeky grin slapped on his face. Relief and happiness surged through her, inflating her chest til it felt like her ribs might burst. “Did you hear that, Rose?” the Doctor continued. “He’s promised not to hit you and everything! What a shining example of humanoid decency!” The captor leapt to Rose’s side and yanked her up from the ground by the wrist, whipping a knife from his hip faster than Rose could blink. One arm pinning her to his side, his other hand held the knife up against Rose’s throat, pressing just hard enough that Rose could feel the bite of the blade. “Rose!” shouted Mickey, springing from behind the Doctor, but the Doctor grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back, his eyes trained on Rose. All signs of mirth had completely evaporated from his face; his mouth had gone thin and his eyes blown wide. “Let her go,” he said calmly. “Back off!” the Champion demanded, tightening his grip on Rose. “By all rights, she’s mine!” “She isn’t anyone’s!” Mickey shot back, struggling against the Doctor’s grip. Lurching away from Mickey, the Champion dragged Rose with him, his knife slipping with the movement. Rose gasped at the razor-sharpness of its sting, watched the Doctor’s gaze grow sharp and deadly. She shuddered despite the evening heat. She wasn’t sure what she was more afraid of—the Champion’s knife at her throat, or that look on the Doctor’s face. “If you don’t let her go, someone’s going to get hurt,” the Doctor said, his voice deceptively even, “and that someone’s going to be you.” “No! I claimed her!” the Champion shouted, his grasp clenching around Rose until she grit her teeth in discomfort. “By the rites of tradition, I—” His words were cut off by a boomerang to the back of the skull. He twisted round to see what the hell had just happened, but no sooner had he turned than the boomerang came sailing right back, smacking him square in the face and throwing his head back with the force of the blow. Stumbling, he swayed on his feet for a moment, as if his brain couldn’t decide whether to lose consciousness or not. Then he fell like a sack of bricks. Two pairs of hands hauled Rose away, and she glanced up to see Dyana and Vareem. “How—?” Rose asked, astonished. “Had some help,” Dyana grunted, pulling Rose to her feet. She held up the boomerang, a huge grin lighting up her face. “And this didn’t hurt, either.” Rose found herself wrapped up a great bear hug before she had a chance to reply, Mickey slamming into her with a joyous shout. Grinning, she returned the embrace—how had she ever been irritated with him for coming onboard the TARDIS?—and stood back, his hands clasped in hers. “So you got to see the Tournament after all, huh?” she said, laughing. “Is it everything you dreamed?” “More like a nightmare,” replied Mickey with a grimace. “Yeah, and you haven’t even seen the dragon yet, have you?” Mickey’s eyes widened. “So there really is a dragon? A real-life, full-size, honest-to-goodness—” “Monster,” Dyana finished for him. Spotting a group of hooded Champions, she visibly tensed (Ready for battle, thought Rose), but relaxed when the leader of the group saluted her. She repeated the gesture and pointed toward the Citadel, and the group took off; Rose could only guess they weren’t Champions after all, but some of her people in disguise. “And it’s only a matter of time before it comes round this way again, so we’d better hurry,” Dyana added, warily scanning the space above the arena. “Real quick, though—don’t suppose your hairpins will work on the chains, do you?” asked Vareem. She gestured at the chain coiled round her arm; its tail trailed out for quite a distance behind her, shining bright in the dirt. “Only they’re a bit inconvenient.” “Not so great for running away,” Dyana agreed, still watching the skies. Mickey pulled Rose’s hand closer for inspection, flinching at the bruises already forming beneath the chain on her wrist. “Yikes,” he said, fingering the chain, giving it a tug. “Think the sonic would do the trick?” Rose shrugged. “Only one way to find out, I guess. Doctor—?” But when she turned to address him, the Doctor wasn’t there. Frowning, Rose glanced over the surrounding area, silently reminding herself to chide him later (Looks like I’m not the only one with a bad habit of wandering off, hm?). She found him quickly enough, just a ways off from where she saw him last, crouching down next to something low on the ground as his lips moved in a murmur. He was talking to her captor, Rose realized. His hand landed on the man’s bare shoulder, ostensibly so he could push himself up, except that the man convulsed afterward, his body jerking in a single great tremor Rose could see even from this distance. She wondered what just happened, what the Doctor just did. “Gonna tell me what was that all about?” she asked as the Doctor approached. He didn’t meet her eyes. “Do you really want to know?” (Upon seeing the sheer terror flashing in her captor’s face, the way he couldn’t tear his fear-stricken eyes away from the Doctor’s retreating form, Rose wondered if this was a stone best left unturned. Still, discomfort churned in her gut, an uneasy feeling that whatever just transpired was worse even than the threat of the dragon hanging overhead.) “Right, I heard Mr. Mickety-Mick here say something about the sonic,” said the Doctor, snapping instantly back into a cheerful mood as he whipped the screwdriver out of a coat-pocket. “Let’s see what we can do about those cumbersome chains, shall we?” He offered a hand to Vareem, who took it without question (but with a healthy looking-up-and-down, Rose couldn’t help but notice with a little jealous twinge). Scanning the chain clamped onto Vareem’s wrist, the Doctor’s eyebrow shot up in surprise. “Triple-deadlocked,” he announced. “And with a magnetic crypto-seal, to boot.” “Blimey, that’s a bit over-the-top, isn’t it?” asked Mickey. “It doesn’t quite make sense,” the Doctor agreed, thoughtful as he gestured for Dyana to show him her hand so he could study her chain as well. “This is just another example of technology that far outstrips anything we saw in the city. Think about it—it’s all the Dark Ages out there. Why keep with the sticks and stones if you’ve got stuff like this available to you?” “Maybe it’s a cultural choice?” Rose suggested, looking to Dyana and Vareem for insight as the Doctor grabbed her hand, as if her chain would tell him something different than the other two had. “Or religious?” “Definitely not,” replied Dyana. “We don’t have that stuff cos we’re not allowed to.” Mickey scoffed. “What d’you mean, not allowed to? Why not?” “It’s all about control,” the Doctor muttered under his breath, but he hardly seemed to be paying attention to the conversation. His gaze wandered from the chain sealed round Rose’s wrist to the bruises forming a pink-blue halo behind them, further up to Rose’s bicep, where a darker, bigger bruise blossomed barely hidden beneath a golden armlet. The Doctor unhinged the armlet and cast it to the ground, grasping Rose’s bicep gently, his thumb brushing the edge of the bruise. Rose could tell he was mentally tracing the wound’s outline—cuts and scrapes were fairly typical in their lifestyle, just another danger of the job, and therefore generally went unacknowledged except for having some plasters and antiseptic tossed her way, but this bruise had a definite palm-and-fingers shape to it. There was no mistaking, or downplaying, how someone had hurt Rose. “Did your Champion do this?” the Doctor asked, and although his voice sounded casual enough, Rose knew better. “No,” she said, slowly extracting her arm from his grasp. She tried not to wince; she didn’t want him to know that actually, the bruise was quite tender, and throbbed where he’d touched it. Gathering her skirts, she set off toward the Citadel, throwing over her shoulder as casually as she could, “Just your average line-of-duty stuff.” “If he hurt you—” “It wasn’t him,” Rose interrupted, jaw jutting out in defiance, “and you don’t get to do that.” “Do what? Be concerned?” “You don’t get to make this about you.” Catching up to her, the Doctor spluttered indignantly. “What? I never—!” “Yeah, yeah,” said Rose, rolling her eyes. “I know the Oncoming Storm look when I see it, right? Cos no one’s allowed to hurt your friends except you.” He stopped in his tracks, oblivious to Mickey and Dyana and Vareem as they passed him by, and Rose grudgingly hesitated too. The Doctor just stared at her, mouth open, one eyebrow piqued in confusion. “I hurt you?” he asked. The question seemed so genuine, so sincere, that Rose actually took a step back. Flabbergasted, she searched his face to see if she could detect any hint of him being an arse, but his expression betrayed no clues beyond surprise, nothing that would let her know whether she should be furious or take pity on him. But how could he not know? Unless… Rose swallowed and tried to ignore the feeling of something sinking, deep and heavy and solid and immoveable, into the pit of her stomach, just like it did when he jumped through that mirror. “Doctor,” she asked, willing her voice not to shake, and failing miserably. “How do you define ‘betrayal’?” His eyebrow arched even higher. “We’re on the run from a traditionalist maniac mob bearing literal torches and pitchforks, and you want to stop for an etymology lesson?” “Just answer the question, please?” Glancing all around them, at the rocks and the grass and the plaster trees and the other three people stopped up ahead who were pretending, very badly, not to listen to this conversation, the Doctor grew visibly uncomfortable, shifting weight from one foot to the other. “I would say…it’s sort of a violation of a contract,” he said, slowly. “A mutually-agreed-upon contract, whether spoken or unspoken, professional or patriotic or personal, but always with an element of trust involved. A knowing violation of that mutual trust.” “Right,” Rose replied softly, nodding. “But it’s all got to be mutual.” “Well, yes, otherwise any grievance isn’t a betrayal per se, it just falls somewhere on the spectrum of asshattery. There’s generally got to be some degree of closeness on both sides, some level of personal attachment for all parties involved.” “And you don’t think--you can’t think of anything--that doesn’t sound familiar to you at all, right now? Nothing recent comes to mind?” The Doctor shrugged. “Nothing in recent memory, no.” His eyes narrowed, suddenly shrewd, suspicious. “Why are you asking me this?” Biting back something between a hysterical laugh and a throat-clenching sob, Rose tried to think of a suitable response—Because I just needed you to say what we are, Because I’d hoped I was wrong, Because I’m an unforgivably naïve idiot—but all that came out was, “Do you really want to know?” “Okay, sorry to interrupt whatever undoubtedly fascinating thing you’ve got going on here,” said Vareem, pushing between Rose and the Doctor before he had a chance to do anything more than blink in confusion, “but d’you think we could get on with escaping, maybe? I really don’t fancy waiting around for another round of Champions to have a go at me.” “Wait—where are the other Champions?” called Mickey from his spot up ahead, scouring the landscape around them. “There were still a whole bunch of them right behind us. Seems like they should’ve caught up by now.” “Any chance your people got to them?” Rose asked Dyana, ignoring the Doctor and the strange expression on his face. “I really doubt it.” “‘Your people’?” asked Mickey. Nodding, Dyana looked about warily as she hoisted her boomerang into a defensive position. “Mercs, mostly. My sister and I paid them to infiltrate the Tournament disguised as Champions, smuggle in arms for those willing to defend themselves, and claim as many bride-prizes as they could to set them free. But we didn’t pay them to fight. They’d be far more likely to save their own skins and run.” “Oh, who cares what happened to the bloody Champions?” Vareem said, exasperated. She grabbed Mickey by the hand and pulled. “We’ve probably just outrun them—we should go before they catch up!” “No,” said the Doctor, his brow furrowed. Stepping back, he turned to examine the landscape behind them, where he and Mickey had entered the scene. He held up a hand to shield his eyes from the bright floodlights. “No, they were right on our heels, and then we never saw them again after we crossed that ridge.” He pointed to the ridge in question, frowning. “Something’s happened, and we just didn’t notice.” The Doctor took off toward the ridge, and Rose and Mickey—after exchanging equally bewildered glances—followed after, Rose’s wrist-chain clinking all the while. It trailed behind her like a tail as she climbed up the embankment after Mickey and the Doctor. When they crested the hill, Rose let out a gasp. A sea of burnt-black earth met her eyes. Gone were the trees, the grass, the rocks and fake castle-ruins. Instead, scorch marks marred the face of the entire land before them, thick black smoke rising and curling from the trenches like blood seeping from a wound. Scattered throughout were several piles of ash, stark and white against the darkened ground. Rose had a horrible, sickening feeling that some of those ashes used to be people. “Oh my god. The dragon,” said Mickey breathlessly, holding his hand over his nose and mouth to block out the stench of smoke and burning things, things Rose didn’t want to think about. “It had to be the dragon, right? But how come we didn’t hear it?” “They didn’t want us to,” the Doctor replied, glaring at the black screens surrounding the stadium. “Why not?” asked Rose. “Entertainment.” The Doctor spared her a single sharp glance before turning back the way they came, back toward the impatiently-waiting Dyana and Vareem. “It’s all about control!” he shouted back at them. “So where’s the dragon now?” Mickey asked Rose. As if it had only been waiting for someone to ask, at that exact second the entire stadium began to quake with the sound of a huge-throated roar. Without even thinking, Rose clasped Mickey’s hand in fear, watched the Doctor freeze in place. Vareem drew close to Dyana, both of them scanning the skies, Dyana holding her boomerang at the ready. The roar tore through the stadium like a tidal wave, shaking the ground beneath their feet before it diminished into echoes, leaving the arena chillingly quiet and still. Silence, then, except for how Rose could hear everyone holding their breath. “Okay,” she said, pulling Mickey by the hand. “Now we’ve really got to—” Another earsplitting howl sliced through the stadium, this time equaled in volume and ferociousness by the thousands of surrounding spectators shouting and stomping their feet. Rose still couldn’t see them, hidden behind their black screens as they were, but she could hear their voices chanting in excitement, almost as if they were one giant feral creature themselves; she could feel the tremors from their pounding feet sure as sure as she could feel great wings casting ripples through the air. The creature, however, remained invisible, its presence detectable only by the sounds of giant leathery bat’s-wings and the pungent smells of sulphur and smoke. Suddenly the arena bucked as if shaken by an earthquake, throwing Rose and Mickey to their knees. Even the Doctor seemed to have trouble standing upright, stance wide and hands held out defensively as the earth rattled around him. “Rose!” he shouted. “Grab Mickey and back away from the ridge--get out of there, now!” But something had landed in the ash-field, and Rose and Mickey were both frozen, anchored in place as the invisible something crept toward them. Mickey might have sworn under his breath, or he may simply have said something along the lines of How? or What? or Oh god oh god, but Rose couldn’t be sure; she couldn’t hear much over the sounds of her heart pounding relentlessly in her ears, or the heavy whisper of something huge and monstrous slithering through the dirt. Slowly, the air began to shimmer, a veil torn asunder to reveal something hideous beneath. The cloak melted away to reveal a dragon standing before them, easily twenty meters long and with a wingspan twice that wide, its rows and rows of massive spearpoint-teeth glittering in the floodlights and close enough to touch. The dragon opened its mouth, and Rose wondered how long it would take to burn her to cinders, if she would feel her brain boiling in her skull. A violent jerk on her wrist-chain and she was slipping backward and grabbing Mickey without a thought, pulling him with her over the ridge. The two of them tumbled down the embankment just in time to avoid a barrage of fire bursting from the dragon’s maw. Rose smelled the scorched-air above and bit back a cry at the thought that that was almost her and Mickey, that the dragon had nearly--that they’d almost--but her chain--the Doctor must have-- The Doctor pulled Mickey up roughly out of the dirt, helping Rose up after. He shoved her chain into her hand with a curt nod. “Erm, thanks for yanking my chain?” Rose said weakly. “Any time,” replied the Doctor. “Now, come on--time to run!” He took off and Rose followed, running as fast as her legs could carry her, with a shout for Mickey to move. The three of them charged after Dyana and Vareem away from the dragon, toward the mountain and the Citadel. As they ran, Rose felt the ground quake beneath her feet once more, watched as a great inky-black shadow sailed over the rocks in front of them, a harbinger of the dragon soaring overhead. “Doctor, wait,” panted Rose, the air burning in her lungs; “How are we supposed to get past a dragon?” “No idea. We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it!” “But this is absolutely mad!” shouted Mickey. “What’s the point of this whole stupid thing if a great big dragon is just gonna--” The dragon landed in front of them once more with an eardrum-shattering whump, shockwaves ricocheting outward in a violent ripple that knocked over plaster trees and threw everyone bodily to the ground. The second they could move again, Dyana and Vareem scrambled back toward the others, Rose grabbing Dyana and pulling her in close. Snarling at each of the runners in turn, the dragon coiled itself against the base of the mountain, eyes flashing, smoke-plumes rising in tendrils from its nostrils. “Ladies and gentlefolk and miscellaneous,” the announcer declared, voice booming overhead, “I’ve just heard from our fair city councilors. I’m pleased to announce that they have reached a verdict concerning our little stowaways. Would anyone like to know what it is?” The crowd screamed in reply, a ritualistic chant of Yes-yes-yes-yes surging through the stadium. “Disqualified!” the announcer shouted, and the crowd went absolutely mad with sound. “That makes this an instant death round, honored guests!” Amidst the wall of noise surrounding them, Rose and the Doctor and the others slowly stood, each of them assuming a ready stance. Rose grasped Dyana’s hand and squeezed it tightly, hoping to convey as much reassurance as she could; she reached back for the Doctor’s hand on instinct, only to find that he was already reaching for her. Their fingers intertwined, curling around each other with the chain cool and smooth between them, and even despite the danger, even in the face of almost certain death, strangely, something settled deep in Rose’s chest--she briefly thought, if she did have to die today, this would be a good way to do it, holding hands with one old friend and one new. “Well, Doctor?” said Rose, not even bothering to mask the fear in her voice as the dragon opened its mouth, its throat glowing a bright flame-yellow hue. “Don’t suppose you’ve come up with some kind of brilliant plan in the last few minutes?” The Doctor pursed his lips, fingers tapping nervously against the chain pressed between their palms. Then, his eyes widened, as if in realization. “No,” he said, and a shot her a manic grin. “But I do have a spectacularly bad one.”

***

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note: as much as i wish i had come up with it all on my own, the conversation about semantics re: betrayal is heavily (heavily!) inspired by some writings from my good friend, the talented @ksgsworld , who is super amazeballs <3

#ficandchips #tenrose #ten/rose #tenxrose #gitf fixit #post-gitf fixit #it feels so good to be posting things again #::cries:: #please don't let me be jinxing myself lolololol #anyway i need to take a break from the 'puter bc my eyes are starting to do that thing where they glaze over and refuse to focus on anything #but i'm on that productivity-high and i just wanna wriiiiite and draaaawa #and draw and write #;ldkjfo;sdifj;eorijw;eroijwr;woirj;woeirj #mbb fic #rose x ten #otp of legend