Fic: Times Fool, 1/?
Title: Times Fool
Author: doves_wing
Beta: The awesometastic czarina_kitty
Pairing: Nine/Jack/Rose
Rating: PG-15
Genre: Suspense, slight Horror
Warnings: If you had a bad medical experience, this might not be for you. Nothing too explicit, but better safe than sorry...
Summary: When Rose, Jack, and the Doctor make their way back to the TARDIS after a long day, they find their adventure isn't quite over, and not all is what it seems.
A/N: Written for the OT3 H/C Bingo at betterwiththree , for the prompt Haunted.
Even the couch seemed weary, creaking under the weight of three people. One arm shifted in the dog pile, and Rose moaned.
“Don’t want to move,” she mumbled. Jack groaned, and the Doctor shifted.
“Should. Going to hurt later,” murmured the Doctor, somewhere in Jacks shoulder.
“I’m warm. Don’t want to move,” Rose stated in such a manner that made it clear that she was not budging an inch out from underneath half of Jack, and half of a blanket.
It had been a long, cold, trek back to the TARDIS. London in January was miserable, and they were not dressed for the weather. After fending off an invasion of something that looked vaguely like a tribble, with more teeth and a penchant for wool socks, they were mentally and physically exhausted. The large shopping complex was saved, the tribble-esque creatures were sent swiftly back to their home planet, and now all Rose wanted to do was sleep for three days.
Jack groaned, and pushed himself up off the couch, dislodging Rose.
“Oi!” She grumbled, flailing an arm in a half-hearted attempt to punch Jack’s shoulder. “Stop!”
“Sorry,” he said, sounding not at all apologetic, “But I’m freezing. I have a Time Lord-shaped ice block on me. I vote- no, insist- shower.”
The TARDIS water system had been on the fritz for about a week now, so that left the three of them piled into a shower that was average-sized for one person. Which normally, they all would have been completely in favour of, but when they were this tired? Not a chance.
“Got to get that system fixed, Doctor,” mumbled Rose, pulling on a worn tank top. There was a silence in the room. Jack was passed out on the bed, not bothering with clothing.
The Doctor frowned. “You try it. Not like you do anything useful anyways,” he snarled. He swiftly pulled on loose trousers, and slammed the door on the way out. Rose was left standing there, mouth wide open. She shut her mouth, pursing her lips in an indignant frown. She ran to the door, pulling it open,
“Why don’t you take some time to teach me something then, yeah? I’m not as stupid as you say, you know. Get off your lazy arse and try!” She slammed the door in punctuation to her parting remark, and collapsed face-first on the bed next to Jack, resting her cheek on folded arms. Ridiculously angry, she fell into dreams that were about as peaceful as the rest of her life.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
White halls and white coats dominated her vision, voices a hazy, blurred, wall of sound that was penetrated by a shout.
“Rose!” A Manchester accent, the Doctor’s voice penetrating the fog surrounding her.
“Doctor!”
White joined with grey and a flash of blue, a buzzing sound, more voices surrounded her.
“Jack…” she moaned, arms holding her own down, hands on her neck, she couldn’t move, couldn’t see couldn’t hear… there was nothing.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Get away!” Jack shouted, waving his sonic pistol in front of his assailants. They had no face, a grey blur with a bright, blue, halo surrounding where there face ought to be, blinding white coats that came toward him with hands outstretched.
“Back!” he yelled. The hands advanced.
“I’m warning you…” There were hands on his arms, on his neck, cold pressure on his jugular and suddenly his arms dropped, his gun hit the floor, everything took on a suddenly sharp quality, fluorescent, hospital light above him and then… nothing.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Next Chapter
Author: doves_wing
Beta: The awesometastic czarina_kitty
Pairing: Nine/Jack/Rose
Rating: PG-15
Genre: Suspense, slight Horror
Warnings: If you had a bad medical experience, this might not be for you. Nothing too explicit, but better safe than sorry...
Summary: When Rose, Jack, and the Doctor make their way back to the TARDIS after a long day, they find their adventure isn't quite over, and not all is what it seems.
A/N: Written for the OT3 H/C Bingo at betterwiththree , for the prompt Haunted.
Even the couch seemed weary, creaking under the weight of three people. One arm shifted in the dog pile, and Rose moaned.
“Don’t want to move,” she mumbled. Jack groaned, and the Doctor shifted.
“Should. Going to hurt later,” murmured the Doctor, somewhere in Jacks shoulder.
“I’m warm. Don’t want to move,” Rose stated in such a manner that made it clear that she was not budging an inch out from underneath half of Jack, and half of a blanket.
It had been a long, cold, trek back to the TARDIS. London in January was miserable, and they were not dressed for the weather. After fending off an invasion of something that looked vaguely like a tribble, with more teeth and a penchant for wool socks, they were mentally and physically exhausted. The large shopping complex was saved, the tribble-esque creatures were sent swiftly back to their home planet, and now all Rose wanted to do was sleep for three days.
Jack groaned, and pushed himself up off the couch, dislodging Rose.
“Oi!” She grumbled, flailing an arm in a half-hearted attempt to punch Jack’s shoulder. “Stop!”
“Sorry,” he said, sounding not at all apologetic, “But I’m freezing. I have a Time Lord-shaped ice block on me. I vote- no, insist- shower.”
The TARDIS water system had been on the fritz for about a week now, so that left the three of them piled into a shower that was average-sized for one person. Which normally, they all would have been completely in favour of, but when they were this tired? Not a chance.
“Got to get that system fixed, Doctor,” mumbled Rose, pulling on a worn tank top. There was a silence in the room. Jack was passed out on the bed, not bothering with clothing.
The Doctor frowned. “You try it. Not like you do anything useful anyways,” he snarled. He swiftly pulled on loose trousers, and slammed the door on the way out. Rose was left standing there, mouth wide open. She shut her mouth, pursing her lips in an indignant frown. She ran to the door, pulling it open,
“Why don’t you take some time to teach me something then, yeah? I’m not as stupid as you say, you know. Get off your lazy arse and try!” She slammed the door in punctuation to her parting remark, and collapsed face-first on the bed next to Jack, resting her cheek on folded arms. Ridiculously angry, she fell into dreams that were about as peaceful as the rest of her life.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
White halls and white coats dominated her vision, voices a hazy, blurred, wall of sound that was penetrated by a shout.
“Rose!” A Manchester accent, the Doctor’s voice penetrating the fog surrounding her.
“Doctor!”
White joined with grey and a flash of blue, a buzzing sound, more voices surrounded her.
“Jack…” she moaned, arms holding her own down, hands on her neck, she couldn’t move, couldn’t see couldn’t hear… there was nothing.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Get away!” Jack shouted, waving his sonic pistol in front of his assailants. They had no face, a grey blur with a bright, blue, halo surrounding where there face ought to be, blinding white coats that came toward him with hands outstretched.
“Back!” he yelled. The hands advanced.
“I’m warning you…” There were hands on his arms, on his neck, cold pressure on his jugular and suddenly his arms dropped, his gun hit the floor, everything took on a suddenly sharp quality, fluorescent, hospital light above him and then… nothing.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Next Chapter