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muccamukkTitle: A Question of Balance (1/?) [het/slash]
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
muccamukk
Fandom: Doctor Who
Spoilers: New Who: Series One.
Number of Words: 680
Notes: Written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
tamingthemuse Prompt 122 - Thirst. So after I asked for prompts, I remembered that seascribe had asked for Rose/Nine/Jack ages. This is the start of it, from notes written at the time. I will hopefully continue it over the following weeks. No beta on this one either.
“Run!” the Doctor said, and they did, the three of them pelting up the dunes as best they could.
The lemon-yellow sand shifted with every step, and Rose didn't feel like she was moving at all. The Doctor grabbed her hand, trying to pull her forward and up the slope, but he didn't have much better traction. Jack was right behind her, acting as rear guard – and hadn't she heard just about a thousand puns about that one already – though she knew he could make far better time in his heavy boots.
Her hair blew in her mouth as she glanced back; she spat it out, and decided not to do that again. She didn't really want to know how fast the florescent-orange Whatever-They-Weres were gaining on them. Having that many legs seemed to have quite a few advantages.
Rose felt the cold air tear at her throat, and her lungs started to burn.
“We're almost there!” the Doctor said.
Jack added, “Come on, Rose, just a little but further,” and emphasised the point by placing a hand firmly on her butt and shoving her over the top of the dune.
The Doctor's hand slipped from hers. With nothing else grab or slow her decent, she tumbled freely down the far side. She tried to bring her arms up to protect her face, but sand still got into her eye and mouth.
Suddenly, she fetched up against something solid, something familiar. Scrambling blindly, she jambed the key into the lock and fell into the TARDIS, gasping.
The Doctor tripped over her, slamming into the consul, and she head what sounded like a steel-clad toe connecting with something hard and brittle, followed by a whining hiss, and the sound of the doors slamming shut.
“What the hell were they?” Jack demanded.
“I'm not sure,” said the Doctor. “I think I might have got the jump a bit wrong,” and Rose couldn't help but laugh.
That night, Rose sighed, burrowed deeper under the covers, and tried to relax. She tried closing her eyes, but inevitably ended up lying on her back, staring at the ceiling. Wide awake.
Usually, she didn't have a problem with falling asleep, especially after a several hours of running for her life to escape whatever they encountered that day. Usually, once the adrenalin wore off, she crashed pretty fast. Once or twice, she had even fallen fast asleep while sitting on the cold grating of the control room floor, watching the Doctor tinker with the TARDIS controls.
She had no idea what was wrong tonight. None whatsoever.
Actually, that was a complete lie.
The problem was definitely Jack, or, to be more specific, Jack's hands, and what he wasn't doing with them.
Oh sure, he touched her all the time in the course of everyday events, even at times in intimate locations, but never with any apparent carnal intent. In fact, he hadn't made a serious move on her since 1941.
Rose had a definite feeling that the Doctor had taken the former conman aside and Had Words with him. She was strongly considering killing the Time Lord.
The whole point of Captain Jack was, as she had said before, that he was as close to the Doctor as she was going to get, only with the possibility of actually getting laid. Which she hadn't been since a very quick tumble with Mickey last time she'd been home over a month ago, and now she was stuck in an infinitely spacious wooden box with two incredibly sexy men that she couldn't have sex with. It was driving her absolutely mental.
She'd tried giving herself a hand, but it wasn't getting her vary far any more. It certainly hadn't helped her sleep tonight.
Rose had half a mind to stomp over to Jack's room, strip naked and jump the man. See if he could turn that down. Actually, now that she thought of it...
She slid out of bed, tossed her pyjamas on the rumpled covers, and shrugged into her robe.
TBC... probably.
Reviews Warm the Heart. Flames Warm the Hearth.
Author:
muccamukkFandom: Doctor Who
Spoilers: New Who: Series One.
Number of Words: 680
Notes: Written for the
tamingthemuse Prompt 122 - Thirst. So after I asked for prompts, I remembered that seascribe had asked for Rose/Nine/Jack ages. This is the start of it, from notes written at the time. I will hopefully continue it over the following weeks. No beta on this one either.“Run!” the Doctor said, and they did, the three of them pelting up the dunes as best they could.
The lemon-yellow sand shifted with every step, and Rose didn't feel like she was moving at all. The Doctor grabbed her hand, trying to pull her forward and up the slope, but he didn't have much better traction. Jack was right behind her, acting as rear guard – and hadn't she heard just about a thousand puns about that one already – though she knew he could make far better time in his heavy boots.
Her hair blew in her mouth as she glanced back; she spat it out, and decided not to do that again. She didn't really want to know how fast the florescent-orange Whatever-They-Weres were gaining on them. Having that many legs seemed to have quite a few advantages.
Rose felt the cold air tear at her throat, and her lungs started to burn.
“We're almost there!” the Doctor said.
Jack added, “Come on, Rose, just a little but further,” and emphasised the point by placing a hand firmly on her butt and shoving her over the top of the dune.
The Doctor's hand slipped from hers. With nothing else grab or slow her decent, she tumbled freely down the far side. She tried to bring her arms up to protect her face, but sand still got into her eye and mouth.
Suddenly, she fetched up against something solid, something familiar. Scrambling blindly, she jambed the key into the lock and fell into the TARDIS, gasping.
The Doctor tripped over her, slamming into the consul, and she head what sounded like a steel-clad toe connecting with something hard and brittle, followed by a whining hiss, and the sound of the doors slamming shut.
“What the hell were they?” Jack demanded.
“I'm not sure,” said the Doctor. “I think I might have got the jump a bit wrong,” and Rose couldn't help but laugh.
That night, Rose sighed, burrowed deeper under the covers, and tried to relax. She tried closing her eyes, but inevitably ended up lying on her back, staring at the ceiling. Wide awake.
Usually, she didn't have a problem with falling asleep, especially after a several hours of running for her life to escape whatever they encountered that day. Usually, once the adrenalin wore off, she crashed pretty fast. Once or twice, she had even fallen fast asleep while sitting on the cold grating of the control room floor, watching the Doctor tinker with the TARDIS controls.
She had no idea what was wrong tonight. None whatsoever.
Actually, that was a complete lie.
The problem was definitely Jack, or, to be more specific, Jack's hands, and what he wasn't doing with them.
Oh sure, he touched her all the time in the course of everyday events, even at times in intimate locations, but never with any apparent carnal intent. In fact, he hadn't made a serious move on her since 1941.
Rose had a definite feeling that the Doctor had taken the former conman aside and Had Words with him. She was strongly considering killing the Time Lord.
The whole point of Captain Jack was, as she had said before, that he was as close to the Doctor as she was going to get, only with the possibility of actually getting laid. Which she hadn't been since a very quick tumble with Mickey last time she'd been home over a month ago, and now she was stuck in an infinitely spacious wooden box with two incredibly sexy men that she couldn't have sex with. It was driving her absolutely mental.
She'd tried giving herself a hand, but it wasn't getting her vary far any more. It certainly hadn't helped her sleep tonight.
Rose had half a mind to stomp over to Jack's room, strip naked and jump the man. See if he could turn that down. Actually, now that she thought of it...
She slid out of bed, tossed her pyjamas on the rumpled covers, and shrugged into her robe.
TBC... probably.
Reviews Warm the Heart. Flames Warm the Hearth.
![[identity profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 21 Nov 2008 07:17 (UTC)On a side note, I tried coming here from Taming the Muse but the link was broken. Just thought I’d give you a heads up there.
Thanks for sharing!
~ Alex
(no subject)
Date: 22 Nov 2008 21:33 (UTC)Ah, apparently I misplaced a ". Stupid html.
(no subject)
Date: 21 Nov 2008 20:06 (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 22 Nov 2008 21:34 (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 22 Nov 2008 01:42 (UTC)I do love a happy ending! (So to speak)
(no subject)
Date: 22 Nov 2008 21:35 (UTC)I love that icon.