Happy 2-Year Anniversary, Bete Noire!

[magistrated]

Today, November 7, the tropical island comes to life.

Five springs across the island start spouting water. The sun dawns on several new types of berries and fruits that weren't there before.

Feel free to snack away, but be warned: these foods have consequences.

SPRINGS: All effects from the springs can last anywhere from fifteen minutes

Comments

For TOS!Jim and AU!Charles - aphro-tastic

[fallsoutofbox]

Never accept drinks from strangers. Unless etiquette demands it. Or unless you're really thirsty.

To the Doctor's credit, he'd been reasonably suspicious of the person selling water on the beach. He'd poured just a little into his palm to taste-test, figuring if there was anything fishy going on, he'd be able to detect it and shrug it off. He'd been right on the first point - very wrong on the second.

He's retreated into the trees in an attempt to get away from people, especially Romana, until the effects wear off - but as luck would have it, he's headed toward the source of that same water. He can hear what's going on over there long before he's able to see it.

But he's not going to see it. Not going to hear it, either. The Doctor presses his back against a tree, shuts his eyes and tries to shut his ears, but only gets as far as clapping a hand over one ear before he hesitates. He's been in situations like this before; knows it's only going to get more painful if he tries to ignore it. But what else can he do?

[goldn_boy]

Jim knew better than to try the food and water on untested planets. Or islands. Whatever. But there was a healing spring, and one that, as far as anyone could tell, was just really good waterTrust Jim to get them mixed up

[fallsoutofbox]

At first, he's grateful. Something to focus on aside from what's going on... oh, about twenty feet in that-ish direction? The Doctor opens his eyes, though the hand stays on his ear.

"Oh. Hello, Jim." Going for casual. When that fails, he shakes his head. "No. Not terribly."

[xprofessor]

Charles follows the taste of familiarity blindly. At this point, he doesn't care who it leads to, only that it leads to someone he trusts, and when he steps out of the thicket of trees, stumbling from a vine grasping at his ankle, he breathes out in relief.

Jim. And the Doctor. Two people that he trusts with his life.

"Oh, good," he says, "good. I was afraid I'd gone completely crazy."

Though, knowing what had happened, they probably couldn't understand him any more than anyone else could.

Jim is the closer, and Charles gives in to the urge low in him, the urge to be close, to communicate. He steps up and hugs Jim close. Expressing relief and closeness through skin and bone, because he can't express it any other way.

[goldn_boy]

Jim's brow furrows in concern at the Doctor's words, and he's just about to ask what's wrong when he hears a noise and turns to see Charles stumbling towards them. Suddenly incomprehensible--Jim glances at the Doctor, to see if he has any better idea than Jim--and a bit the worse for wear. He steps towards him instinctively, concern overriding desire though the latter is swirling just below consciousness.

The hug is even more unexpected, and he shoots another glance of his shoulder, registering confusion and concern. But the feeling is clear, it's washing through Charles and into Jim, the need for their trust and connection.

"Charles?" he says. He doesn't push him away. "Charles, what's happened? What's wrong?"

He's conscious, a little too conscious, of the body in his arms, and thinks maybe their talk has altered the shape of the pull he'd always felt.

[fallsoutofbox]

He was about to use the sudden distraction to slip away, but then - the hand comes off his ear. Hearing an unintelligible language almost never happens. Not to him. Not, in fact, to anyone here.

"He's talking nonsense," he says, and pushes himself away from the tree, taking a tense step forward - his current trouble isn't forgotten, but it can be temporarily ignored in favour of curiosity. "Why's he doing that? Charles?"

[xprofessor]

He lingers in Jim's arms just a hint too long, inhaling in the crook of Jim's neck. The sweat from the hike, he thinks, and it reminds him of sparring. The way they fought. Hearts beating quick, bodies visceral-close.

He twitches back, out of Jim's grasp. Casts his mind at the Doctor's, but it's a din of vastness and puzzles. His hand moves to his temple.

"Don't talk," he says, softly. "Talking doesn't work. No one understands."

[goldn_boy]

"He's not," Jim says, letting Charles go when he starts back. There's a buzzing beneath his skin, familiar. Ignorable, he thinks. He looks at the Doctor again. "I've seen this once before. Not here--not exactly. Babel. I went with some others, to try to set things right, I suppose. Whatever keeps us understanding each other didn't work there. Those of us who spoke English could still understand the words. But we mostly garbled up the meaning."

He looks back at Charles, the hand to his head in a familiar gesture. And tries thinking at him. Not words. Just attempting to get across the sense of the words being meaningless but that it'd be okay. They were there.

[fallsoutofbox]

The Doctor only lets Charles' mind brush against his. He's been reluctant to open his mind up to Charles - or anyone - lately and hasn't thought about why (there's a new corridor in his mind, locked up tight and full of shadows, that refuses to acknowledge itself, refuses to let itself be acknowledged).

But inquisitiveness trumps everything in this moment, especially with the need for a distraction. He puts a subtle pressure on Charles' mind, an inquiry. Looking for the changes.

"'Course it would be Babel," he says out loud to Jim. "Everything in Bete Noire's gotta be something Bible-y."

[xprofessor]

Pressure. Their minds, from both sides of his, though Jim's is open and willing and the Doctor's is actively seeking. Charles shudders, and a bolt of arousal flickers through him, reflects from one to the other.

He reaches out, hooking fingers in the Doctor's jacket, and pulls. Pulls him closer.

It could have been you, he thinks, it could have-- And his eyes on the Doctor are pleading, though he doesn't know for what.

[goldn_boy]

"Bible-y" is pretty much right, since none of it is ever what Jim might have expected. He turns to watch Charles cling to the Doctor, now, wondering what is going on. Wondering how he can help.

"Do you... can you hear anything?" he asks the Doctor. "What's wrong with him?" Absurdly, he wants Charles to be touching him, and he pushes it away. At least there is some distraction from the thought of what state he'd been in when last he saw the Doctor--he doesn't remember all of it, but he's pretty sure he should be embarrassed.

[fallsoutofbox]

He doesn't understand the thought itself, but he catches the intention behind it, the potential. He feels a push-pull that's all too familiar (Jack flashes over the surface of his mind). Perhaps counterintuitively, it makes him want to stay. To show that he can tough it out.

At least that's what he tells himself. It's also true that he can feel the tension in Charles' fingers with such acuteness, even through his jacket, that it's proving difficult to tear away.

"His thoughts are - simple." He's reaching toward Charles' temple; resting fingertips there. "Without the ability to communicate, all he's left with are impressions."

[xprofessor]

They're talking to each other. Charles stiffens, feeling patronized, oddly. It's illogical -- they can't speak to him, so why wouldn't they talk to each other? -- but it rankles at him, nonetheless.

Communication isn't just what he can do. It's who he is.

He buries his face in the Doctor's neck, body pulsing with conflicting emotions, sensations, knowing only that he wants the both of them close, that he wants to know that they're there in a way that speech and mind cannot prove.

He wants to belong to someone, if only for a few brief minutes.

[goldn_boy]

Oddly, though Jim has no access to Charles' thoughts or feelings, he's instinctively aware of what having words taken away from him must mean. Charles is always connected, always communicating. It's like Jim unable to touch--those weeks had been torturous for him. He'd felt as though he'd lost half of his ability to speak, to listen. How much worse would this be for someone like Charles, who hears so much more intensely?

"Then we shouldn't flaunt our own," he says sadly, putting a hand on Charles' back. But what can they do?

[fallsoutofbox]

Charles is so close to him; he can feel his blood pulsing under his touch, skin heating up at the points of contact. It could have been me. The Doctor's eyes close; a very feeble voice at the back of his mind protests, Not like this.

It could still be me. That's the thought that's allowed to float to the surface. He's forgotten about Jim momentarily, even though the man just spoke. Out of sight, out of mind, and everything else is impulse and sensation.

[xprofessor]

Charles half-turns, his hand catching Jim's and holding tight. And he looks back to the Doctor, eyes wide, and dark, and he knows what the Doctor is thinking, without hearing it, without feeling it. He knows.

Could he know even more? Could he channel this heat into understanding?

He doesn't let go of Jim's hand. But his other touches the Doctor's cheek, and nudges him towards Charles. Towards a kiss that twists heat into inferno -- even the brush of his lips against the Doctor's is enough to make him need, his palm sweaty against Jim's.