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aislynnTitle: "Balancing Act" (7/8)
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: 2,466
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: We're in the home-stretch, wooo! On the off-chance you don't know the song referenced in the seventh paragraph in, you can hear it here. ;) The final chapter should be following in the next few days, barring RL disasters, disturbances in the Force (oops, wrong fandom ;) ), temporal breakdowns and that sort of thing. ;) Thanks for your patience for all this time and while I took November off to do NaNo (and I won, yay! :D ). ♥!
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
Three steps down the corridor from the console room, there was an open door Donna knew had never been there before.
"Expediency," the Doctor said by way of explanation when she shot him a questioning glance.
She ended up going backwards through the doorway, being rather involved with some quite serious snogging at the time, and so her first look at the room was a few moments after they had entered. She turned and the sight she beheld made the words dry up on her tongue.
Shades of red exploded at her from all directions, from the crimson velvet on the walls, to the plush scarlet carpet, to the cherry nightstands on either side of the large, heart-shaped bed on a pedestal which dominated the rest of the room. White rose petals were the only counterpoint, strewn across the carpet and up onto the ruby-red duvet.
"Oh…my…" she finally said slowly.
"What?" he said. "Nothing wrong with setting the mood—"
A mirror ball descended from the ceiling just as the silky tones of Barry White's "Can't Get Enough Of Your Love, Babe" began.
"Maybe, ummmm, a little too much mood?" he quickly said and, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him covertly slashing two fingers across his neck. The music screeched to a halt and the mirror ball withdrew rather sullenly.
"You have a bachelor pad," she crowed, whacking him carelessly in the chest. "A swingin' Time Lord bachelor pad!"
He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, but couldn't seem to find the words he wanted. It occurred to her that perhaps he hadn't chosen the décor but, rather, the TARDIS had. And while she had no problem ribbing the bloody daylights out of him, she definitely didn't want to offend the TARDIS.
"Well, come on then," she said with a lascivious grin. "Let's put all of this mood to good use, hm? Unzip me." She turned, sweeping her hair aside, and he eased the zipper of her royal purple dress down, taking advantage of the moment to kiss her neck.
Then he shrugged out of his jacket, stripped away his bow tie and was reaching for his trouser zip as she turned to face him. She held the bodice across her breasts, waiting for him to look up. When he did, she let the dress drop to a pool at her feet, stepping out of it and striking a bit of a sultry pose in her dark purple bra, knickers and high heels.
Sensation prickled inside of her skull, down her spine and all the way to her core where it immediately snapped, causing her knees to nearly give way beneath her. She staggered over to the bed and quickly sat down before she ended up on the floor next to her dress. The Doctor stumbled over and dropped heavily next to her.
"Seriously?" she said, trying not to sound amazed. "Just from looking?"
"Wellll, you're quite a sight," he said sincerely, unzipping his trousers and discarding the extremely used super-absorbent paper towel. "And the closer we get to completing the bond, the more – shall we say? – hair-trigger things may get."
"So, what do we do now? Play Canasta for a while?" she asked, toeing off her shoes. "Maybe some Bridge? Do you have a deck of cards in here?"
"Oh," he said, grinning as he yanked off his Converse and socks, then started on the buttons on his shirt. "I'd wager we can find some way to pass the time…"
She grinned back. "You do the cuffs, I'll do the rest of the buttons."
They got their arms tangled several times but, in short order, they divested him of his white dress shirt. He stood, unzipping his trousers the rest of the way. "You know," he said, letting them slide over his skinny hips, "I've composed an ode to your lady-bits yet you still haven't spared a single kind word in my direction…"
"Is that so?" Donna said, pretending to mull it over as he tossed the trousers aside and stood naked before her. "Well, I'd hate to think that I've offended your…" she thought quickly "…mighty man-wand."
He did a rather incredulous double-take. "'Man-wand?'"
"Mighty man-wand," she corrected. "I gave you a good adjective, you'll notice."
"First of all, I'm male but I'm not a man—"
"Oh, sweetheart, you are such a man sometimes," she interrupted with a roll of her eyes.
"And secondly," he went on, speaking over her, "'wand' rather sounds like something that lacks…girth, doesn't it?"
"But has length," she pointed out helpfully.
"So you're saying I lack girth, then?"
"That's not what I said."
"Well, it certainly sounds like that's what you're saying to me!" And he put both hands protectively over his groin.
What? He doesn't want it to overhear? she thought, biting her lip to keep from laughing. Since she didn't want this encounter to end with him flouncing off, mortally wounded, she reached over and drew her fingertip lightly along the back of his hand.
"What I was trying to say is that wands make the magic happen," she said in a throaty purr.
He clearly wanted to stay insulted but as she continued to trace circles over his hands, then lightly dragged her fingernails up his forearms and back again, insult gave way to goofy pleasure.
"So," she said, "do you want to unhook me or do you want me to do it?"
"I'll do it!" he volunteered eagerly, kneeling between her feet at the side of the bed and reaching around to undo her bra. Then he flung it over his shoulder in the general vicinity of the rest of their discarded clothing and gave her a rather predatory smile. Hooking his fingers into the band of her knickers, he said, "Hips up."
She hesitated. "You remembered to get rid of the post-hypnotic suggestion, right? No more 'beasts off their leashes' or flopping about like a fish?"
"No more fish on leashes," he promised with a wink, tugging at her knickers until she obliged and raised her hips so that he could slip them down the length of her legs. Then they, too, went sailing over his shoulder.
She sat, then immediately exclaimed, "Ooo!" and jumped back to her feet, nearly bowling him over in the process. "I think I've got rose petals stuck to my— I do!" She twisted, knocking the petals off her bare bottom.
"Very decorative," the Doctor said, rubbing his mouth as he tried to hide his smile.
"Oh, get up here, you," she said, tugging him to his feet. "Let's take these off the bed, hm? There's no telling where they might end up, otherwise."
They swept the rest of the white rose petals to the thick red carpet, then the Doctor gave her a mischievous look.
"You know what would be fun?" He gestured her over to the nightstand and opened the top drawer. It was full of bottles of all shapes and sizes.
Donna leaned in to read the labels. "Flavored massage oil? You have an entire drawer of massage oils? What do you have in the other drawer, then?"
"Er, let's save the other drawer for another time, what say?" he said, then tutted at her. "Come on, now. Pick a flavor."
She picked up the closest. "Ah, here we go. Banana. You should enjoy that one."
"Well, that would be good on you, of course, but if you used it on me, it would just make me want to try and lick myself. Wait, no," he said quickly. "What I mean is—"
"Oh, I know what you mean, you naughty boy," she said, arching an eyebrow at him. "And you're bendy enough I bet you'd try it."
To her surprise, he blushed. "Moving right along," he said, clearing his throat and taking the bottle from her. "Oh, look what we have here. Raspberry, just like your shampoo!"
She picked up the bottle and rolled it briskly between her palms to warm it. "On your face, spaceman," she said, indicating the bed.
"Yes, ma'am," he said with a sketchy salute and bounded onto the bed, flopping onto his stomach. She crawled up next to him and the scent of raspberry soon permeated the air as she pulled the stopper and poured some of the oil into her hand.
She smoothed her palms against his shoulder blades, following the cool curves of bone and muscle. He made appreciative growly noises as she worked out the knots she found there. So, so skinny, she thought but even still, he was a pleasure to touch. She found herself warming to her task in more ways than one and he was soon shifting as if it wasn't entirely comfortable to continue lying on his belly.
His skin glistened from the oil and she couldn't resist pressing herself against him and kissing his neck. "You're sure you won't get me pregnant?" she said abruptly.
"Like this?" he quipped. "Donna, do I need to explain the birds and the bees to you?"
She smacked his arm, though not very hard because she hadn't meant to blurt it out like that. "I already know about the bees," she said. "They come from Melissa Majoria. I'm not sure what planet the birds are from."
"We've had this talk before," he reminded her. "Back at the very start when I told you what all to expect from a mating bond."
"Yes, I know, the TARDIS verified us both as completely healthy and you said Time Lords have control over the whole impregnating thing." She straightened up and began kneading his back rather like a lump of unrisen dough. "I just wanted to make sure that you hadn't, you know, developed alien super sperm or something in the time between then and now."
"Well," he said, rolling over onto his back and catching hold of her hands. "I'm sure they appreciate you calling them 'super' but I promise, I have complete control of them. And they're not alien to me, thank you very much."
Suddenly, a phone rang and Donna looked up, startled to find a red telephone sitting on the bed next to them.
"Must be an emergency," the Doctor said apologetically and reached over to pick up the receiver. "Hello? Jack, what's wrong?"
There was a long pause. Donna went from concerned to increasingly bored as his demeanor didn't seem to indicate he was hearing "end of the known universe" news. She sat back and toyed with the bottle of massage oil.
"Of course, we'll be there then," he said at last. "Tell Martha we wouldn't miss her wedding for the world. Not even for a few of them. Unless they were very important or in grave danger. You know, the usual. No, tell her sorry her call went to voicemail. How did you convince the TARDIS to ring—? Jack! I'd thank you not to try and seduce my ship with your— You did too mean it and don't think I don't know it."
He spared a glance up at the ceiling and a rather sheepish note of whale song drifted down.
"So everything's good then?" he continued. "Nothing's come through the Rift that you can't…? Calophaunts, seriously? Big or little?"
Oh come now, Donna thought. I'm not sitting here cooling my heels while he has a nice chat and… deflates! She put the bottle down then leaned over and walked her fingers across his chest.
He gave her a "just a minute" gesture. "I've never heard of them existing in a… a… temporal… um…" he trailed off as she caught his hand and licked his upraised finger.
"Doctor?" she heard Jack's voice say from far away through the receiver. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, I'm… oh," he said as she slipped his finger into her mouth. "Good," he gasped out. "I'm very… ah… good."
She glanced down, pleased to see that the ground they had lost was quickly being regained.
"What am I doing?" he said, struggling to keep his voice normal. "Oh, just, um, watching a movie. What? Of course a Time Lord can have a movie day if he wants. I love… nnng!" Donna started sucking on his finger, in and out, in and out, in a gentle rhythm.
"I love movie days," he said in a higher tone. "No, Jack, you wouldn't be interested in this movie, not at all."
She gave him a dirty look and he quickly said, "Rather, you'd definitely be interested. In fact, I'm certain you'd enjoy it a lot but I, um, simply couldn't, uh, let you borrow it. Though you'd want it, believe me, you'd absolutely… want… it. Oh my…"
She sucked harder, increasing the speed of the push-pull motion.
"I've got to come," he said desperately. "I mean, go! I've come to the best part of the movie and I've got to go, Jack. Talktoyoulaterbye!"
He reached out blindly, trying to find the cradle with the receiver. Donna could hear Jack laughing hysterically before the Doctor managed to hang up.
"I'm never going to live that down, you know," he said, accusingly. She let his finger slip free of her mouth with a soft pop. "Not that I mind," he amended in a conciliatory tone, then his eyes brightened. "Flip over and let me take a turn, hm? I'd really like to do you… Uh, you know what I mean."
She did a fair imitation of his eyebrow waggling. "Oh, yes, I definitely know what you mean." But she was grinning as she stretched out on her stomach and pulled her hair to the side.
He rolled to his knees and flexed his fingers. "Oil," he directed like a surgeon requesting an instrument and she slapped it into his palm. In a few seconds, the scent of raspberry filled the room and his cool hands were working her over. She relaxed into his ministrations, feeling both pleasantly aroused yet soothed at the same time. Her eyes drifted closed.
He leaned over and murmured, "You're not going to go to sleep, are you?" While he was there, he licked the very edge of her ear as his fingers brushed tiny circles along the small of her back. And she had the most spectacular, out-of-the-blue orgasm of her life.
She gasped for breath, feeling that the back of her thighs, her bottom and part of her back were absolutely drenched. She twisted to look incredulously at him.
"That," he said, in flustered, wide-eyed innocence, "was not my fault."
She blew a lock of hair out of her eyes as he sat heavily and they both watched his "man-wand" become decidedly less mighty. "Well," she said practically. "Do you have a deck of cards in here?"
Chapter 8
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: 2,466
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: We're in the home-stretch, wooo! On the off-chance you don't know the song referenced in the seventh paragraph in, you can hear it here. ;) The final chapter should be following in the next few days, barring RL disasters, disturbances in the Force (oops, wrong fandom ;) ), temporal breakdowns and that sort of thing. ;) Thanks for your patience for all this time and while I took November off to do NaNo (and I won, yay! :D ). ♥!
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
Three steps down the corridor from the console room, there was an open door Donna knew had never been there before.
"Expediency," the Doctor said by way of explanation when she shot him a questioning glance.
She ended up going backwards through the doorway, being rather involved with some quite serious snogging at the time, and so her first look at the room was a few moments after they had entered. She turned and the sight she beheld made the words dry up on her tongue.
Shades of red exploded at her from all directions, from the crimson velvet on the walls, to the plush scarlet carpet, to the cherry nightstands on either side of the large, heart-shaped bed on a pedestal which dominated the rest of the room. White rose petals were the only counterpoint, strewn across the carpet and up onto the ruby-red duvet.
"Oh…my…" she finally said slowly.
"What?" he said. "Nothing wrong with setting the mood—"
A mirror ball descended from the ceiling just as the silky tones of Barry White's "Can't Get Enough Of Your Love, Babe" began.
"Maybe, ummmm, a little too much mood?" he quickly said and, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him covertly slashing two fingers across his neck. The music screeched to a halt and the mirror ball withdrew rather sullenly.
"You have a bachelor pad," she crowed, whacking him carelessly in the chest. "A swingin' Time Lord bachelor pad!"
He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, but couldn't seem to find the words he wanted. It occurred to her that perhaps he hadn't chosen the décor but, rather, the TARDIS had. And while she had no problem ribbing the bloody daylights out of him, she definitely didn't want to offend the TARDIS.
"Well, come on then," she said with a lascivious grin. "Let's put all of this mood to good use, hm? Unzip me." She turned, sweeping her hair aside, and he eased the zipper of her royal purple dress down, taking advantage of the moment to kiss her neck.
Then he shrugged out of his jacket, stripped away his bow tie and was reaching for his trouser zip as she turned to face him. She held the bodice across her breasts, waiting for him to look up. When he did, she let the dress drop to a pool at her feet, stepping out of it and striking a bit of a sultry pose in her dark purple bra, knickers and high heels.
Sensation prickled inside of her skull, down her spine and all the way to her core where it immediately snapped, causing her knees to nearly give way beneath her. She staggered over to the bed and quickly sat down before she ended up on the floor next to her dress. The Doctor stumbled over and dropped heavily next to her.
"Seriously?" she said, trying not to sound amazed. "Just from looking?"
"Wellll, you're quite a sight," he said sincerely, unzipping his trousers and discarding the extremely used super-absorbent paper towel. "And the closer we get to completing the bond, the more – shall we say? – hair-trigger things may get."
"So, what do we do now? Play Canasta for a while?" she asked, toeing off her shoes. "Maybe some Bridge? Do you have a deck of cards in here?"
"Oh," he said, grinning as he yanked off his Converse and socks, then started on the buttons on his shirt. "I'd wager we can find some way to pass the time…"
She grinned back. "You do the cuffs, I'll do the rest of the buttons."
They got their arms tangled several times but, in short order, they divested him of his white dress shirt. He stood, unzipping his trousers the rest of the way. "You know," he said, letting them slide over his skinny hips, "I've composed an ode to your lady-bits yet you still haven't spared a single kind word in my direction…"
"Is that so?" Donna said, pretending to mull it over as he tossed the trousers aside and stood naked before her. "Well, I'd hate to think that I've offended your…" she thought quickly "…mighty man-wand."
He did a rather incredulous double-take. "'Man-wand?'"
"Mighty man-wand," she corrected. "I gave you a good adjective, you'll notice."
"First of all, I'm male but I'm not a man—"
"Oh, sweetheart, you are such a man sometimes," she interrupted with a roll of her eyes.
"And secondly," he went on, speaking over her, "'wand' rather sounds like something that lacks…girth, doesn't it?"
"But has length," she pointed out helpfully.
"So you're saying I lack girth, then?"
"That's not what I said."
"Well, it certainly sounds like that's what you're saying to me!" And he put both hands protectively over his groin.
What? He doesn't want it to overhear? she thought, biting her lip to keep from laughing. Since she didn't want this encounter to end with him flouncing off, mortally wounded, she reached over and drew her fingertip lightly along the back of his hand.
"What I was trying to say is that wands make the magic happen," she said in a throaty purr.
He clearly wanted to stay insulted but as she continued to trace circles over his hands, then lightly dragged her fingernails up his forearms and back again, insult gave way to goofy pleasure.
"So," she said, "do you want to unhook me or do you want me to do it?"
"I'll do it!" he volunteered eagerly, kneeling between her feet at the side of the bed and reaching around to undo her bra. Then he flung it over his shoulder in the general vicinity of the rest of their discarded clothing and gave her a rather predatory smile. Hooking his fingers into the band of her knickers, he said, "Hips up."
She hesitated. "You remembered to get rid of the post-hypnotic suggestion, right? No more 'beasts off their leashes' or flopping about like a fish?"
"No more fish on leashes," he promised with a wink, tugging at her knickers until she obliged and raised her hips so that he could slip them down the length of her legs. Then they, too, went sailing over his shoulder.
She sat, then immediately exclaimed, "Ooo!" and jumped back to her feet, nearly bowling him over in the process. "I think I've got rose petals stuck to my— I do!" She twisted, knocking the petals off her bare bottom.
"Very decorative," the Doctor said, rubbing his mouth as he tried to hide his smile.
"Oh, get up here, you," she said, tugging him to his feet. "Let's take these off the bed, hm? There's no telling where they might end up, otherwise."
They swept the rest of the white rose petals to the thick red carpet, then the Doctor gave her a mischievous look.
"You know what would be fun?" He gestured her over to the nightstand and opened the top drawer. It was full of bottles of all shapes and sizes.
Donna leaned in to read the labels. "Flavored massage oil? You have an entire drawer of massage oils? What do you have in the other drawer, then?"
"Er, let's save the other drawer for another time, what say?" he said, then tutted at her. "Come on, now. Pick a flavor."
She picked up the closest. "Ah, here we go. Banana. You should enjoy that one."
"Well, that would be good on you, of course, but if you used it on me, it would just make me want to try and lick myself. Wait, no," he said quickly. "What I mean is—"
"Oh, I know what you mean, you naughty boy," she said, arching an eyebrow at him. "And you're bendy enough I bet you'd try it."
To her surprise, he blushed. "Moving right along," he said, clearing his throat and taking the bottle from her. "Oh, look what we have here. Raspberry, just like your shampoo!"
She picked up the bottle and rolled it briskly between her palms to warm it. "On your face, spaceman," she said, indicating the bed.
"Yes, ma'am," he said with a sketchy salute and bounded onto the bed, flopping onto his stomach. She crawled up next to him and the scent of raspberry soon permeated the air as she pulled the stopper and poured some of the oil into her hand.
She smoothed her palms against his shoulder blades, following the cool curves of bone and muscle. He made appreciative growly noises as she worked out the knots she found there. So, so skinny, she thought but even still, he was a pleasure to touch. She found herself warming to her task in more ways than one and he was soon shifting as if it wasn't entirely comfortable to continue lying on his belly.
His skin glistened from the oil and she couldn't resist pressing herself against him and kissing his neck. "You're sure you won't get me pregnant?" she said abruptly.
"Like this?" he quipped. "Donna, do I need to explain the birds and the bees to you?"
She smacked his arm, though not very hard because she hadn't meant to blurt it out like that. "I already know about the bees," she said. "They come from Melissa Majoria. I'm not sure what planet the birds are from."
"We've had this talk before," he reminded her. "Back at the very start when I told you what all to expect from a mating bond."
"Yes, I know, the TARDIS verified us both as completely healthy and you said Time Lords have control over the whole impregnating thing." She straightened up and began kneading his back rather like a lump of unrisen dough. "I just wanted to make sure that you hadn't, you know, developed alien super sperm or something in the time between then and now."
"Well," he said, rolling over onto his back and catching hold of her hands. "I'm sure they appreciate you calling them 'super' but I promise, I have complete control of them. And they're not alien to me, thank you very much."
Suddenly, a phone rang and Donna looked up, startled to find a red telephone sitting on the bed next to them.
"Must be an emergency," the Doctor said apologetically and reached over to pick up the receiver. "Hello? Jack, what's wrong?"
There was a long pause. Donna went from concerned to increasingly bored as his demeanor didn't seem to indicate he was hearing "end of the known universe" news. She sat back and toyed with the bottle of massage oil.
"Of course, we'll be there then," he said at last. "Tell Martha we wouldn't miss her wedding for the world. Not even for a few of them. Unless they were very important or in grave danger. You know, the usual. No, tell her sorry her call went to voicemail. How did you convince the TARDIS to ring—? Jack! I'd thank you not to try and seduce my ship with your— You did too mean it and don't think I don't know it."
He spared a glance up at the ceiling and a rather sheepish note of whale song drifted down.
"So everything's good then?" he continued. "Nothing's come through the Rift that you can't…? Calophaunts, seriously? Big or little?"
Oh come now, Donna thought. I'm not sitting here cooling my heels while he has a nice chat and… deflates! She put the bottle down then leaned over and walked her fingers across his chest.
He gave her a "just a minute" gesture. "I've never heard of them existing in a… a… temporal… um…" he trailed off as she caught his hand and licked his upraised finger.
"Doctor?" she heard Jack's voice say from far away through the receiver. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, I'm… oh," he said as she slipped his finger into her mouth. "Good," he gasped out. "I'm very… ah… good."
She glanced down, pleased to see that the ground they had lost was quickly being regained.
"What am I doing?" he said, struggling to keep his voice normal. "Oh, just, um, watching a movie. What? Of course a Time Lord can have a movie day if he wants. I love… nnng!" Donna started sucking on his finger, in and out, in and out, in a gentle rhythm.
"I love movie days," he said in a higher tone. "No, Jack, you wouldn't be interested in this movie, not at all."
She gave him a dirty look and he quickly said, "Rather, you'd definitely be interested. In fact, I'm certain you'd enjoy it a lot but I, um, simply couldn't, uh, let you borrow it. Though you'd want it, believe me, you'd absolutely… want… it. Oh my…"
She sucked harder, increasing the speed of the push-pull motion.
"I've got to come," he said desperately. "I mean, go! I've come to the best part of the movie and I've got to go, Jack. Talktoyoulaterbye!"
He reached out blindly, trying to find the cradle with the receiver. Donna could hear Jack laughing hysterically before the Doctor managed to hang up.
"I'm never going to live that down, you know," he said, accusingly. She let his finger slip free of her mouth with a soft pop. "Not that I mind," he amended in a conciliatory tone, then his eyes brightened. "Flip over and let me take a turn, hm? I'd really like to do you… Uh, you know what I mean."
She did a fair imitation of his eyebrow waggling. "Oh, yes, I definitely know what you mean." But she was grinning as she stretched out on her stomach and pulled her hair to the side.
He rolled to his knees and flexed his fingers. "Oil," he directed like a surgeon requesting an instrument and she slapped it into his palm. In a few seconds, the scent of raspberry filled the room and his cool hands were working her over. She relaxed into his ministrations, feeling both pleasantly aroused yet soothed at the same time. Her eyes drifted closed.
He leaned over and murmured, "You're not going to go to sleep, are you?" While he was there, he licked the very edge of her ear as his fingers brushed tiny circles along the small of her back. And she had the most spectacular, out-of-the-blue orgasm of her life.
She gasped for breath, feeling that the back of her thighs, her bottom and part of her back were absolutely drenched. She twisted to look incredulously at him.
"That," he said, in flustered, wide-eyed innocence, "was not my fault."
She blew a lock of hair out of her eyes as he sat heavily and they both watched his "man-wand" become decidedly less mighty. "Well," she said practically. "Do you have a deck of cards in here?"
Chapter 8
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Date: 2008-12-07 11:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-10 08:33 pm (UTC)