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aislynnTitle: "Balancing Act" (5/8)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ageless_aislynn
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Ten/Donna
Summary: Donna has managed to save both herself and her memories but in doing so, has she bitten off more than she...and the Doctor...can chew? An alternate end to "Journey's End."
Rating: NC-17
Length: 2,816
Spoilers: Up to 4x13 "Journey's End"
Disclaimer: Not mine or you can bet there would've been happy endings for everybody!
Beta: The fantabulousmistojen ♥! *mwah!* ♥!
A/N: My apologies for the extra time between chapters. It was a combination of RL and a team of plot bunnies who couldn't make up their minds on what they wanted to do with this chapter. o_O ;) After a few major rounds of Plot Bunnies' Smackdowns, we finally all got on the same page. ;)And look, just one more chapter to go! We're in the homestretch now! ♥! ETA: Well, we were until I started adding extra chapters... *blush* ;)
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4
"I can't believe they gave us ice cream to thank us," Donna said as she struggled to close the freezer door. "I mean, they really gave us ice cream! It's never going to all fit in here."
The Doctor was stationed behind her, with one of his gizmos strewn in a million pieces across the table. He held up a shiny yellow jewel to the light, peering at it through his self-proclaimed "brainy specs."
"Doctor," she said as the door popped open again, "what are we going to do with all this?"
"I don't understand why this didn't work," he said, scanning the jewel with his screwdriver. "It's resonating correctly so why didn't it stun that Fendenarian?"
"Doesn't matter," she said, studying the small, white cartons stuffed onto every available surface in the freezer until it looked ready to burst. "We knocked him out and saved the day like always. And got rewarded with enormous amounts of ice cream. Seriously, massive amounts!"
"He must've had a sonic dampener built into his helmet," he said, swapping the jewel for a circuit board with a rat's nest of wires and poking it at with his screwdriver.
"Well, luckily he didn't have a shovel-dampener in his helmet," she said. "You know, the TARDIS's fridge has always seemed bigger on the inside than this--"
Whale song drifted down.
"See?" Donna said. "The fridge is plenty big; we just have a huge amount of ice cream! I think it might be multiplying in here. We're about to be overrun by alien ice cream!"
"Maybe if I adjust the oscillation so that I can--"
"Eat it."
He glanced over at her. "Pardon?"
She rummaged in a nearby drawer, pulled out a spoon and held it out to him. "We have to eat some of this."
"Not right now, thanks," he said. "I'm on the verge of a breakthrough here, I can feel it."
She yanked a carton out at random and plonked it down in front of him. "Breakthroughs go better with ice cream."
"Donna! You can't just set ice cream on delicate machinery like this!" he complained. "Do you want me to be able to stun the next angry Fendenarian we come across or not?"
"I'll just club that one with a shovel, too, if I have to," she said dismissively, opening the carton and taking up a spoonful of the white confection.
"Mindless violence never solves anything-mph." He was cut off as she stuck the spoon in his mouth. "Blargh, pear. I hate pears!"
She looked at the carton marked only with swirly black lines, then carefully tasted it. "Are you joking? This isn't pear, it's... banana?" Another spoonful and she confirmed, "Yep, banana."
He put down the circuit board, stuck his screwdriver in his jacket pocket, then started trying to pry apart two triangular pieces of metal. "It's mood ice cream," he said, grimacing with effort. "Tastes like whatever mood you're in. I'm frustrated so it tastes like pears to me."
"And what? You're saying I'm in the mood for a banana?"
He looked up at that and she couldn't resist giving the spoon a long, deliberate lick. He dropped the triangles with a noisy clatter, then slowly removed his glasses, folding them and tucking them away into his inner jacket pocket, his eyes never leaving her.
"Banannnnnnnnnna," she drawled, taking up another spoonful and swirling her tongue around and around it. He was suddenly on his feet, pressing her back against the counter and snogging her like it was going out of style.
She lost hold of the spoon and yelped as cold wetness splattered against her collarbone. He pulled back enough that they could watch the ice cream sliding along her skin before disappearing into the deep valley between her breasts.
"Hand me a towel--oh!" she was saying as he put his hands at her waist and lifted her up onto the counter. Then he dove nigh-on head-first into her cleavage, chasing the sweetness with his tongue.
He was soon forcing the neckline of her blouse down farther, trying to gain better access. She fisted her hands into his blue suit jacket and pulled him up.
"You're going to stretch it," she said.
"What?" he said, looking at her with ice cream smeared all over his face and with the gobsmacked expression of someone who had just gotten an unexpected glimpse of nirvana.
"You're going to stretch my blouse, you git. Let me take it off." She crossed arms over her stomach, pulling up the hem. As the garment went over her head, she bumped back against the cabinet and somehow ended up with her elbows bound in the taut material, unable to pull it the rest of the way off.
She struggled, hopelessly trapped with her arms over her head, completely blinded. Just as she was about to complain So would it kill you to help me? he put his cool hands on her bare stomach and his mouth eagerly began making the acquaintance of all of the exposed flesh he couldn't reach until now. Then he pulled the soft cup of her bra down, baring her left breast, and something very cold was slicked across her delicate flesh.
"Did you just smear ice cream on me?" she asked, intending sternness but instead sounding breathlessly eager.
"Yep," he said, popping the 'p' and then he was licking and sucking away the sticky coldness. A moment later, her other breast received the same ministration.
"If I smother here," she said, gasping for breath, "don't tell people how I died. Make up something heroic, hm?"
He chuckled and pulled her forward, bumping her knees apart and stepping in so that she was braced against him and didn't slide off the counter as he helped her wiggle out of the blouse.
She barely had time to register the fact she was free before he was snogging her again. "You have too many clothes," she mumbled, trying to undo his tie with clumsy fingers.
"Urk!" he said as she accidentally tightened it. "Let me."
They switched so that he was trying to loosen the tie while Donna was unbuttoning his shirt, never breaking their kiss. He tossed the tie away just as she got his shirt undone. She shoved both his jacket and shirt over his shoulders and down his arms in one motion.
"Cuffs, cuffs," he suddenly exclaimed against her mouth. She realized she'd forgotten to undo the buttons on his shirt cuffs so his jacket was discarded on the floor but his shirt ended up bunched around his waist, acting like wrist manacles.
"I got 'em," she muttered but when she pulled his left hand up, it forced the other to go behind his back and he yelped. "For the love of--"
She leaned back and started on the first cuff. As soon as that hand was free, he reached around and started working the clasp on her bra. It came loose just as she undid the last button on his other cuff.
"One-handed," she said with a grin. "I'm impressed."
"Well," he said, in a superior tone as he tossed her bra haphazardly over his shoulder. "I am a Time Lord, you know. We have all sorts of impressive skills."
"Oh, I'd say I'll be the judge of that," she said and hauled his mouth back to hers. Then she gasped as something cold pressed against her chest. She looked down and found she now had a perfect ice cream handprint on her left breast. He wore a proud "look at what I did!" grin.
She reached over and stuck her hand in the carton, drawing out a fistful of the confection.
"Oh, you wouldn't--" he said as she smacked him square in the sternum with it then smeared a sloppy X from one side of his chest down to his stomach and back again.
"Yeah, I think I would," she said then squeaked as he mischievously pulled her against him and rubbed back and forth, coating them both. Then he ran the pad of his thumb across her lower lip, leaving a streak of ice cream that he then took his time licking thoroughly away.
While his mouth was thusly occupied, his hand crept down along her torso, questing cleverly under the waistband of her trousers and slipping into her knickers. His fingers, even colder than usual, brushed her hot flesh and she bowed her back in delighted shock.
And whacked her head against the cabinet door.
While she cursed, the Doctor made concerned noises, feeling the curve of her skull for injuries. She had the opportunity to notice a stripe of ice cream along his cheek and leaned forward to drag her tongue over it. He shuddered, forgetting his altruistic motives and pulled her forward, hooking her legs over his hips. She realized his intention a moment before he picked her up off the counter.
"You're going to throw your back out, you nutter," she complained, slinging her arms around his shoulders. He only grinned and kissed her, holding her with surprising ease.
The skinny boy is a lot stronger than he looks, she thought admiringly, as he carried her over to the table and sat her down. "Gismo!" she yelped as one of the sharp metal pieces stabbed her rear end.
"Sorry," he muttered, lifting her again and blindly sweeping with one hand, scattering pieces everywhere while he struggled to keep hold of her and not break away from their mad frenzy of kisses in the process. He stumbled and she caught glimpse of his jacket wrapped around his foot; he turned and leaned back against the table, trying to shake loose, then bucked up in surprise. "Those are sharp!"
She laughed at his indignant expression. "Here, put me down," she said and dropped her feet to the ground again. While he untangled his jacket then kicked it across the galley, she finished clearing away the metal bits and bobs then wiggled her trousers past her hips and hopped up onto the table, yanking off one shoe.
He started to pull his zip then suddenly straightened up. "Warning, the beasts are off their leashes," he intoned.
She paused, her trousers now dangling from one leg. "Pardon?" she said. He's finally lost his mind, she thought. Couldn't he have waited 10 more bloody minutes? Eh, make it 20 minutes. Yeah, I like the idea of 20 minutes. 20, 30, maybe 45 depending on what kind of Time Lord stamina he really has...
He shook himself like a wet dog. "The new post-hypnotic suggestion for when we're in danger of crossing the line," he told her, grinning. "I changed it since you didn't like the flopping about version. And that line seems to be little fluid, by the way. I suppose what constitutes danger all depends on the circumstances and the--"
"'The beasts are off their leashes?'" she interrupted. "Seriously? You're saying we've got beasts in our pants?"
"Rawr," he said with a playful thrust of his hips.
"You are so bonkers, spaceman," she said, swatting his sticky, ice cream-smeared chest. "So how are we going to finish this without either of our 'beasts' getting out of control and blowing up my brain, then, eh?"
"I'll just fuse--" he paused and they both looked at his jacket across the room, with his screwdriver in the pocket. "We'll just be very careful," he concluded, tipping her back onto the table and half-sprawling next to her.
"Well, we'd better be, sunshine, 'cause I'm all for mind-blowing sex, just not literally, you understand? I--Ohhhhh, that's... that's not half bad," she said as he slid his hand back into her knickers again.
"Balance for me," he urged, shifting around so that he could dart kisses along her jaw while his fingers worked their magic. "Like we've practiced."
They had finally realized that she needed to be able to find her balance when they weren't in the process of cautiously but enthusiastically screwing each other six ways to Tuesday. She'd found that, in addition to the trigger phrase about him spelunking her with her feet in the air, she needed to imagine standing in a dark room on top of three chairs stacked upon each other.
It was much harder to accomplish when her senses were being flooded with the hot, desperate pleasure of his fingers pumping and swirling steadily inside her. Struggling to gather her wits, she mentally bounded onto the three chairs in the dark room.
But... the room was no longer dark. There was a pinpoint of gold on the "wall" before her, like a tiny hole radiating brilliance from another room.
The bond, the Doctor said silently.
She reached out and circled it a few times with a mental finger, then slipped into it with a cautious stroke. He made a strangled noise, grinding against her hip.
Interesting, she thought impishly and began matching the thrusts of his fingers with those of her own into that warm, golden light.
He rattled a stream of guttural Gallifreyan in her ear and she discovered that, though she couldn't understand the individual words, their close mental proximity must've been allowing her to get the gist of what he was saying.
Oh my, she thought in amazement. No wonder the TARDIS won't translate! That's...creative! And that one... I'm not even sure I'm flexible enough for that one but I'd sure love to give it a try! Yes, I'd really like to... Oh, I want to... I want... Oh!
An orgasm -- his, hers, theirs together, she couldn't tell -- crashed through her like a massive bolt of lightning.
She drifted back to herself, blinking up at the galley ceiling. Is that ice cream? she thought, taking a covert look at the Doctor as he rolled over onto his back, confirming that his trousers were still zipped. Yep, must be ice cream. Though how it got up there, I have no idea!
He took her hand in his and held it for a long while as they got their breath back. "Donna," he said softly, "I just have to say...you forgot to tell me you were blonde. Again."
She yanked her hand away and smacked his arm in a careless backhand. "Everybody's a critic," she mock-grumbled, sitting up as he chuckled. Now that the endorphins were wearing off, she felt every bit of the sticky, half-dried ice cream on her skin. "We're complete disasters, you and I. I'd say we better drag our 'beasts' off to separate showers, hm?"
"Yes," he agreed, rolling lithely from the table and onto his feet. "And the TARDIS would like to sterilize the galley as soon as we're gone."
Donna blushed. "Oh, the poor dear," she said, rising as well. "What must she think of us?"
Whale song drifted down in several curlicue notes.
He smiled. "She said she's learned to accept what thorough messes we humanoids tend to be."
"Can't argue with that," she said, realizing that it was going to be impossible to walk with one shoe on and her trousers around one leg. She quickly stripped them both off, then started collecting the rest of her hastily discarded clothing, clutching them to her chest.
He gathered up the parts of his gismo as well as his shirt, tie and jacket, and gestured for her to precede him. She paused, noticing that the freezer door was no longer gaping as it had been.
"Come on, Donna," he said quickly, "we need to get out of here now. She really wants to sterilize..."
Whale song floated down in a remarkably chiding tone and the freezer door popped open, revealing that the many cartons of ice cream were now tidily stacked with plenty of room to spare, no longer in danger of overflowing.
He edged by her. "Will you look at that," he said, "the contents must have shifted. Excellent, isn't it? Wellllll, we really need to get cleaned up, don't we?"
"Doctor," she said slowly. "Why am I feeling like this was all some sort of nefarious plan of yours?"
"Nefarious? Don't be silly, Donna! Since when do I have nefarious plans? I mean, there was that one time, but it was hardly nefarious now, was it? If you look in the dictionary under nefarious plans, you will not see my picture, no way! It's hardly like I could've anticipated that you'd feel the need to use up the extra ice cream by smearing it all over your luscious body, thus giving me the chance to lick it off your-- Oh my, look at the time; got to run!"
He practically sprinted out of the galley. She gave an indignant squawk and stalked after him.
"Doc-TOR!" she bellowed down the hallway. "I was not the one who started that! You come back here, you sneaky Martian, you!"
Chapter 6
Author:
ageless_aislynnFandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Ten/Donna
Summary: Donna has managed to save both herself and her memories but in doing so, has she bitten off more than she...and the Doctor...can chew? An alternate end to "Journey's End."
Rating: NC-17
Length: 2,816
Spoilers: Up to 4x13 "Journey's End"
Disclaimer: Not mine or you can bet there would've been happy endings for everybody!
Beta: The fantabulous
mistojen ♥! *mwah!* ♥!A/N: My apologies for the extra time between chapters. It was a combination of RL and a team of plot bunnies who couldn't make up their minds on what they wanted to do with this chapter. o_O ;) After a few major rounds of Plot Bunnies' Smackdowns, we finally all got on the same page. ;)
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4
"I can't believe they gave us ice cream to thank us," Donna said as she struggled to close the freezer door. "I mean, they really gave us ice cream! It's never going to all fit in here."
The Doctor was stationed behind her, with one of his gizmos strewn in a million pieces across the table. He held up a shiny yellow jewel to the light, peering at it through his self-proclaimed "brainy specs."
"Doctor," she said as the door popped open again, "what are we going to do with all this?"
"I don't understand why this didn't work," he said, scanning the jewel with his screwdriver. "It's resonating correctly so why didn't it stun that Fendenarian?"
"Doesn't matter," she said, studying the small, white cartons stuffed onto every available surface in the freezer until it looked ready to burst. "We knocked him out and saved the day like always. And got rewarded with enormous amounts of ice cream. Seriously, massive amounts!"
"He must've had a sonic dampener built into his helmet," he said, swapping the jewel for a circuit board with a rat's nest of wires and poking it at with his screwdriver.
"Well, luckily he didn't have a shovel-dampener in his helmet," she said. "You know, the TARDIS's fridge has always seemed bigger on the inside than this--"
Whale song drifted down.
"See?" Donna said. "The fridge is plenty big; we just have a huge amount of ice cream! I think it might be multiplying in here. We're about to be overrun by alien ice cream!"
"Maybe if I adjust the oscillation so that I can--"
"Eat it."
He glanced over at her. "Pardon?"
She rummaged in a nearby drawer, pulled out a spoon and held it out to him. "We have to eat some of this."
"Not right now, thanks," he said. "I'm on the verge of a breakthrough here, I can feel it."
She yanked a carton out at random and plonked it down in front of him. "Breakthroughs go better with ice cream."
"Donna! You can't just set ice cream on delicate machinery like this!" he complained. "Do you want me to be able to stun the next angry Fendenarian we come across or not?"
"I'll just club that one with a shovel, too, if I have to," she said dismissively, opening the carton and taking up a spoonful of the white confection.
"Mindless violence never solves anything-mph." He was cut off as she stuck the spoon in his mouth. "Blargh, pear. I hate pears!"
She looked at the carton marked only with swirly black lines, then carefully tasted it. "Are you joking? This isn't pear, it's... banana?" Another spoonful and she confirmed, "Yep, banana."
He put down the circuit board, stuck his screwdriver in his jacket pocket, then started trying to pry apart two triangular pieces of metal. "It's mood ice cream," he said, grimacing with effort. "Tastes like whatever mood you're in. I'm frustrated so it tastes like pears to me."
"And what? You're saying I'm in the mood for a banana?"
He looked up at that and she couldn't resist giving the spoon a long, deliberate lick. He dropped the triangles with a noisy clatter, then slowly removed his glasses, folding them and tucking them away into his inner jacket pocket, his eyes never leaving her.
"Banannnnnnnnnna," she drawled, taking up another spoonful and swirling her tongue around and around it. He was suddenly on his feet, pressing her back against the counter and snogging her like it was going out of style.
She lost hold of the spoon and yelped as cold wetness splattered against her collarbone. He pulled back enough that they could watch the ice cream sliding along her skin before disappearing into the deep valley between her breasts.
"Hand me a towel--oh!" she was saying as he put his hands at her waist and lifted her up onto the counter. Then he dove nigh-on head-first into her cleavage, chasing the sweetness with his tongue.
He was soon forcing the neckline of her blouse down farther, trying to gain better access. She fisted her hands into his blue suit jacket and pulled him up.
"You're going to stretch it," she said.
"What?" he said, looking at her with ice cream smeared all over his face and with the gobsmacked expression of someone who had just gotten an unexpected glimpse of nirvana.
"You're going to stretch my blouse, you git. Let me take it off." She crossed arms over her stomach, pulling up the hem. As the garment went over her head, she bumped back against the cabinet and somehow ended up with her elbows bound in the taut material, unable to pull it the rest of the way off.
She struggled, hopelessly trapped with her arms over her head, completely blinded. Just as she was about to complain So would it kill you to help me? he put his cool hands on her bare stomach and his mouth eagerly began making the acquaintance of all of the exposed flesh he couldn't reach until now. Then he pulled the soft cup of her bra down, baring her left breast, and something very cold was slicked across her delicate flesh.
"Did you just smear ice cream on me?" she asked, intending sternness but instead sounding breathlessly eager.
"Yep," he said, popping the 'p' and then he was licking and sucking away the sticky coldness. A moment later, her other breast received the same ministration.
"If I smother here," she said, gasping for breath, "don't tell people how I died. Make up something heroic, hm?"
He chuckled and pulled her forward, bumping her knees apart and stepping in so that she was braced against him and didn't slide off the counter as he helped her wiggle out of the blouse.
She barely had time to register the fact she was free before he was snogging her again. "You have too many clothes," she mumbled, trying to undo his tie with clumsy fingers.
"Urk!" he said as she accidentally tightened it. "Let me."
They switched so that he was trying to loosen the tie while Donna was unbuttoning his shirt, never breaking their kiss. He tossed the tie away just as she got his shirt undone. She shoved both his jacket and shirt over his shoulders and down his arms in one motion.
"Cuffs, cuffs," he suddenly exclaimed against her mouth. She realized she'd forgotten to undo the buttons on his shirt cuffs so his jacket was discarded on the floor but his shirt ended up bunched around his waist, acting like wrist manacles.
"I got 'em," she muttered but when she pulled his left hand up, it forced the other to go behind his back and he yelped. "For the love of--"
She leaned back and started on the first cuff. As soon as that hand was free, he reached around and started working the clasp on her bra. It came loose just as she undid the last button on his other cuff.
"One-handed," she said with a grin. "I'm impressed."
"Well," he said, in a superior tone as he tossed her bra haphazardly over his shoulder. "I am a Time Lord, you know. We have all sorts of impressive skills."
"Oh, I'd say I'll be the judge of that," she said and hauled his mouth back to hers. Then she gasped as something cold pressed against her chest. She looked down and found she now had a perfect ice cream handprint on her left breast. He wore a proud "look at what I did!" grin.
She reached over and stuck her hand in the carton, drawing out a fistful of the confection.
"Oh, you wouldn't--" he said as she smacked him square in the sternum with it then smeared a sloppy X from one side of his chest down to his stomach and back again.
"Yeah, I think I would," she said then squeaked as he mischievously pulled her against him and rubbed back and forth, coating them both. Then he ran the pad of his thumb across her lower lip, leaving a streak of ice cream that he then took his time licking thoroughly away.
While his mouth was thusly occupied, his hand crept down along her torso, questing cleverly under the waistband of her trousers and slipping into her knickers. His fingers, even colder than usual, brushed her hot flesh and she bowed her back in delighted shock.
And whacked her head against the cabinet door.
While she cursed, the Doctor made concerned noises, feeling the curve of her skull for injuries. She had the opportunity to notice a stripe of ice cream along his cheek and leaned forward to drag her tongue over it. He shuddered, forgetting his altruistic motives and pulled her forward, hooking her legs over his hips. She realized his intention a moment before he picked her up off the counter.
"You're going to throw your back out, you nutter," she complained, slinging her arms around his shoulders. He only grinned and kissed her, holding her with surprising ease.
The skinny boy is a lot stronger than he looks, she thought admiringly, as he carried her over to the table and sat her down. "Gismo!" she yelped as one of the sharp metal pieces stabbed her rear end.
"Sorry," he muttered, lifting her again and blindly sweeping with one hand, scattering pieces everywhere while he struggled to keep hold of her and not break away from their mad frenzy of kisses in the process. He stumbled and she caught glimpse of his jacket wrapped around his foot; he turned and leaned back against the table, trying to shake loose, then bucked up in surprise. "Those are sharp!"
She laughed at his indignant expression. "Here, put me down," she said and dropped her feet to the ground again. While he untangled his jacket then kicked it across the galley, she finished clearing away the metal bits and bobs then wiggled her trousers past her hips and hopped up onto the table, yanking off one shoe.
He started to pull his zip then suddenly straightened up. "Warning, the beasts are off their leashes," he intoned.
She paused, her trousers now dangling from one leg. "Pardon?" she said. He's finally lost his mind, she thought. Couldn't he have waited 10 more bloody minutes? Eh, make it 20 minutes. Yeah, I like the idea of 20 minutes. 20, 30, maybe 45 depending on what kind of Time Lord stamina he really has...
He shook himself like a wet dog. "The new post-hypnotic suggestion for when we're in danger of crossing the line," he told her, grinning. "I changed it since you didn't like the flopping about version. And that line seems to be little fluid, by the way. I suppose what constitutes danger all depends on the circumstances and the--"
"'The beasts are off their leashes?'" she interrupted. "Seriously? You're saying we've got beasts in our pants?"
"Rawr," he said with a playful thrust of his hips.
"You are so bonkers, spaceman," she said, swatting his sticky, ice cream-smeared chest. "So how are we going to finish this without either of our 'beasts' getting out of control and blowing up my brain, then, eh?"
"I'll just fuse--" he paused and they both looked at his jacket across the room, with his screwdriver in the pocket. "We'll just be very careful," he concluded, tipping her back onto the table and half-sprawling next to her.
"Well, we'd better be, sunshine, 'cause I'm all for mind-blowing sex, just not literally, you understand? I--Ohhhhh, that's... that's not half bad," she said as he slid his hand back into her knickers again.
"Balance for me," he urged, shifting around so that he could dart kisses along her jaw while his fingers worked their magic. "Like we've practiced."
They had finally realized that she needed to be able to find her balance when they weren't in the process of cautiously but enthusiastically screwing each other six ways to Tuesday. She'd found that, in addition to the trigger phrase about him spelunking her with her feet in the air, she needed to imagine standing in a dark room on top of three chairs stacked upon each other.
It was much harder to accomplish when her senses were being flooded with the hot, desperate pleasure of his fingers pumping and swirling steadily inside her. Struggling to gather her wits, she mentally bounded onto the three chairs in the dark room.
But... the room was no longer dark. There was a pinpoint of gold on the "wall" before her, like a tiny hole radiating brilliance from another room.
The bond, the Doctor said silently.
She reached out and circled it a few times with a mental finger, then slipped into it with a cautious stroke. He made a strangled noise, grinding against her hip.
Interesting, she thought impishly and began matching the thrusts of his fingers with those of her own into that warm, golden light.
He rattled a stream of guttural Gallifreyan in her ear and she discovered that, though she couldn't understand the individual words, their close mental proximity must've been allowing her to get the gist of what he was saying.
Oh my, she thought in amazement. No wonder the TARDIS won't translate! That's...creative! And that one... I'm not even sure I'm flexible enough for that one but I'd sure love to give it a try! Yes, I'd really like to... Oh, I want to... I want... Oh!
An orgasm -- his, hers, theirs together, she couldn't tell -- crashed through her like a massive bolt of lightning.
She drifted back to herself, blinking up at the galley ceiling. Is that ice cream? she thought, taking a covert look at the Doctor as he rolled over onto his back, confirming that his trousers were still zipped. Yep, must be ice cream. Though how it got up there, I have no idea!
He took her hand in his and held it for a long while as they got their breath back. "Donna," he said softly, "I just have to say...you forgot to tell me you were blonde. Again."
She yanked her hand away and smacked his arm in a careless backhand. "Everybody's a critic," she mock-grumbled, sitting up as he chuckled. Now that the endorphins were wearing off, she felt every bit of the sticky, half-dried ice cream on her skin. "We're complete disasters, you and I. I'd say we better drag our 'beasts' off to separate showers, hm?"
"Yes," he agreed, rolling lithely from the table and onto his feet. "And the TARDIS would like to sterilize the galley as soon as we're gone."
Donna blushed. "Oh, the poor dear," she said, rising as well. "What must she think of us?"
Whale song drifted down in several curlicue notes.
He smiled. "She said she's learned to accept what thorough messes we humanoids tend to be."
"Can't argue with that," she said, realizing that it was going to be impossible to walk with one shoe on and her trousers around one leg. She quickly stripped them both off, then started collecting the rest of her hastily discarded clothing, clutching them to her chest.
He gathered up the parts of his gismo as well as his shirt, tie and jacket, and gestured for her to precede him. She paused, noticing that the freezer door was no longer gaping as it had been.
"Come on, Donna," he said quickly, "we need to get out of here now. She really wants to sterilize..."
Whale song floated down in a remarkably chiding tone and the freezer door popped open, revealing that the many cartons of ice cream were now tidily stacked with plenty of room to spare, no longer in danger of overflowing.
He edged by her. "Will you look at that," he said, "the contents must have shifted. Excellent, isn't it? Wellllll, we really need to get cleaned up, don't we?"
"Doctor," she said slowly. "Why am I feeling like this was all some sort of nefarious plan of yours?"
"Nefarious? Don't be silly, Donna! Since when do I have nefarious plans? I mean, there was that one time, but it was hardly nefarious now, was it? If you look in the dictionary under nefarious plans, you will not see my picture, no way! It's hardly like I could've anticipated that you'd feel the need to use up the extra ice cream by smearing it all over your luscious body, thus giving me the chance to lick it off your-- Oh my, look at the time; got to run!"
He practically sprinted out of the galley. She gave an indignant squawk and stalked after him.
"Doc-TOR!" she bellowed down the hallway. "I was not the one who started that! You come back here, you sneaky Martian, you!"
Chapter 6
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Re: *brain kersplodes from Teh Hawt*
Date: 2008-09-23 12:08 am (UTC)*brain ssplodes at the thought*
I wasn't thinking about Nine. Or Ten, I promise!
Me either, I swares! *has fingers crossed behind back* ;)
There should be a medal for Super Hawt Doctor/Donna Secksins With Ice Cream and you should have to wear it all the time to prod the plot bunny to write more of this. For like, forever.
*gasp* I want that medal, I do! ♥! *does a vaguely Gollum-like happy dance* Heeeeee!
Seriously, though, I'm so glad you enjoyed it! This was a huge problem child of a chapter (it kept wanting to get all SRS BIZNES for some reason :S ) but it was the addition of the Magical Mood Detecting Ice Cream that made the difference at last! ;) Thanks so much for continuing to read and comment! *squishes you* ♥!
Re: *brain kersplodes from Teh Hawt*
Date: 2008-09-23 01:46 am (UTC)Your problem child is my favorite chapter so far. Wear this with pride!
Re: *brain kersplodes from Teh Hawt*
Date: 2008-09-25 05:30 am (UTC)