Gift for monanotlisa
To: monanotlisa
From: cysfics
Title: Treasured Stranger
Characters and/or Pairings: Amy/Rory/11
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mentions of human/alien hybrids, which may make some folk uncomfortable. Vaguely fluffy.
Summary: The Doctor expounds on one of the many futures of the human race.
Notes: The Oankali (ooloi included) are the creation of Octavia E Butler. I’m just borrowing them.
Word Count: 2,128
Amy could feel the Doctor’s eyes on the back of her head. When she glanced sideways at Rory, he was looking back at her, and she had to smile - they were sharing that weird pseudo-psychic powers that couples shared. Or maybe the Doctor was just that obvious, and even Rory noticed it. Not that there was much of an “even” when it came to Rory - he was much more than people tended to give him credit for. More observant, more intelligent, more good looking. It was one of the first reasons that Amy had fallen in love with him.
“Doctor?” Amy turned around, her finger still twined with Rory’s, a little piece of her marveling, as it always did, at the way they fit together so well. As always, her other hand was stuffed into the pocket of her vest.
“Hm?” The Doctor was ambling a little bit behind them, his hands shoved into his own pockets, possibly an attempt at nonchalance. It was failing miserably. The Doctor couldn’t bluff to save his life (except when he could, and maybe he was only pretending to be attempting, but just thinking about that would give Amy a headache).
“Why did you take us here?” “Here” being a place that seemed to be nothing but a big meadow, with trees in the distance, so far away they were nothing but a vague haze in the distance. The purple grass was dotted with flowers like something out of a child’s coloring book in bright, primary colors. The whole of the place looked something like a kid’s coloring book. All simple lines, simpler colors. It looked like a world in progress.
“It’s a nice place,” the Doctor said somewhat defensively. “And there’s going to be something happening here that is very pretty that I thought you might like. That’s all.”
“What kind of pretty thing?” Rory looked over his shoulder at the Doctor, raising an eyebrow.
“An interesting thing that has potential to be very dangerous but is nonetheless very beautiful and I believe it is your right as human beings to see,” the Doctor said, and stopped, indicating a rock.
“Our right as human beings?” Amy sounded slightly incredulous, even as she sat on the rock, pressing her knees together for modesty’s sake.
“Well… sort of. It’s complicated.” The Doctor sat on the grass next to the rock, folding his ridiculously long legs and resting his chin on his knees. “Something… rather unpleasant happens on Earth, and a group of Save the Whales type aliens come ‘round to rescue you lot, only it’s less “save the whales” and more “shag the whales to create whale/human hybrids.” The Doctor took a breath and caught the human’s incredulous looks. “Just… look at the sky, will you?”
Rory sat down next to Amy, hip to hip and leg to leg. “We’re looking at the sky. What are we seeing?”
“Dunno,” Amy said, staring up at the light green sky. Then there was movement, and she gasped, her eyes going wide. “What is that?” She pointed upwards at a huge grey… structure, it seemed to be, almost like a living thing.
“That… is a ship.” The Doctor leaned back, his hands behind his head and his long legs crossed. “An Oankali ship.”
“Who’re the Oankali?” Amy’s eyes roamed across the Doctor’s legs, pausing at his big feet.
“They’re… well, they’re one of your futures. “Your” being the human race, or at least what they’re going to be eventually.”
“We won’t always be human beings?” Rory sounded moderately alarmed, although it wasn’t exactly news to him. Still, hearing it straight from the horse’s mouth (as it were) was a bit… disconcerting. It was strange to think of human beings not looking… well, human, as he thought of it.
“Well, you will be, and Amy will be. But your great-great-great grandchildren’s descendents won’t be… exactly like you two, as such.”
“Really?” Amy rested her head on Rory’s shoulder, and she could feel the Doctor’s eyes on them, almost like a physical pressure. His eyes were greedy, but she wasn’t sure what it was for - her body? Rory’s? Both? Or was it something more? Their linked hands, their easy intimacy?
“For one thing, that hair of yours won’t be around in another seven generations,” the Doctor said, gesturing vaguely at Amy’s head with one booted foot.
“What, really?” Amy shot Rory a look, then unlinked their hands. “But what are strange folks in the giant grey ships going to do to change humanity?”
“Yes, really. The original gingers were Neanderthals, so there you go. Nice enough folks, mind you, if a bit too happy to have a taste of their comrades brains.” The Doctor glanced at Amy and Rory, seeing the looks of “when will he get on with his original point?” good humor. “Well, you’ll get tentacles. Sort of.” The Doctor looked at their hands, then went back to staring up at the sky, the huge grey ship sedately moving across the sky, like corporeal clouds.
“Really? Like in those pictures Jeff has on his computer?”
“What pictures Jeff has on his computer?” Rory looked over at Amy. The two of them got up together, almost in unison, and sat next to the Doctor, Amy on his left and Rory on his right.
“The ones with the scantily clad girls and things out of an H.P. Lovecraft novel.”
“Since when do you read H.P. Lovecraft?”
“I’m not allowed to have layers?” Amy stuck her tongue out at Rory. “Or are you calling me stupid? Doctor, he’s calling me stupid.”
“I’m not calling you stupid,” Rory protested.
“He’s not calling you stupid,” the Doctor echoed, his eyes closed. He was trembling, ever so slightly. Probably from his proximity to the two humans.
“At any rate… what kind of tentacles are we talking about?” Amy lay back, staring up at the sky.
“Sensory tentacles. Think mobile eyes and ears and noses.” The Doctor kept his eyes shut tightly.
“How can you have mobile eyes and ears and noses?” Rory’s voice was so casual it wasn’t.
“Like an elephants trunk, maybe?” Amy was a better actress; maybe all those years of Kiss-O-Gram-ing had been good for something she could bring up in polite company after all.
“No, Oankali don’t use their tentacles for grasping anything,” the Doctor said, and he seemed more assured now. He was back in his teacher mode, and the Doctor loved doing nothing so much as teaching. After all, it gave him a chance to show off! “Although the ooloi have an extra set of arms. Sort of.”
“Ooloi?” Amy lay back, staring up at the great grey ships. “I thought we were talking about the Oankali.”
“We are talking about the Oankali,” the Doctor said. “The ooloi are… sort of like a third gender. Although they don’t exactly participate in reproduction. As such. Well, they‘re responsible for reproduction, but they don‘t contribute to it the way… well, you lot do.” He seemed rather uncomfortable.
“What’s the point of a third gender if it doesn’t participate in reproduction? How does it contribute, then?” Rory lay back on the grass as well, his hands behind his head. The ships didn’t seem to be landing, just floating up there. They were huge, and the slightly organic look of them was simultaneously appealing and grotesque. It was like watching a living car.
“Oh, it’s good for loads of thing!” The Doctor’s eyes popped open, and he rolled onto his side to look Rory in the face. His face was a bit unnerving, this close - he looked human, at first glance. Then something would catch the eye, and it would be obvious exactly how alien he was. “Raising children, gathering food, providing for the group as a whole, emotional bonding….” He lay back on his back, careful not to touch the humans on either side of him. “And it contributes by building the children. Sort of.”
“Well, yes, that’s all well and good, but how do they contribute to reproduction?” Rory stretched, his shirt riding up ever so slightly. Then the words caught up with his brain. “… how do you build children?”
“Biological genetic engineers,” the Doctor said cheerfully.
“Well, it does make sense,” Amy said. “Much neater.” She paused. “How does it work? Isn’t all genetic engineering biological, technically?”
“It’s rather complicated,” the Doctor said. “Quite frankly, I’m not entirely sure how they do it. They’ve got special organs for it, and it’s generally considered rude to walk up to someone and say “Hello, do you think you would be so kind as to allow me to see your internal organs?”.”
“Since when do you care about rudeness?” Amy grinned, then yawned, stretching. The weather here was warm, comfortable, and she was very tempted to close her eyes, take a nap. But some little part of her mind was telling her that something important was happening. Something that would determine… something. She wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but it scared her and made her feel some kind of warmth at the base of her stomach at the same time.
“Rory, she’s being mean to me,” the Doctor said. “Make her stop.”
Rory rolled his eyes. “She’s being honest,” he said. “Tell us more about these ooloi.”
The Doctor huffed, but as always, his urge to show off (or teach, depending on your perspective) always overcame his urge to sulk. “Well, an Oankali relationship has three people in it. The male and female - contributors of the genetic material… contribute their genetic material.” The Doctor sounded uneasy. “They’re usually related. Brother and sister, sometimes cousins.”
“Aren’t they worried about, y’know, the whole three thumbs problem?”
“Three thumbs would be pretty handy, actually. Anyway, when the Oankali meet you lot, they’ve got proper daisy hands. Fingers all ‘round.” The Doctor shifted his hands, moving them from behind his head to his belly, long, slender fingers laced together. Maybe they had fallen asleep. Could they fall asleep, what with the two hearts?
“Well, it’s not desirable with humans,” Amy said, stating the obvious. “How do the Oankali prevent it, if they’re all marrying their brothers and sisters?”
“That’s what the ooloi is for,” the Doctor said in that infuriating know-it-all voice of his. “They’re not related at all.”
“So… the ooloi person is a complete outsider who brings the other two together?” Amy’s hand was on the ground, right next to the Doctor’s side.
“Well, it’s a bit more complicated than that,” the Doctor said. His voice was still, and it was possible that he was shaking ever so slightly. Something delicate and warm was blooming - something that was young and wobbly, and it was terrifying and beautiful.
“A dashing and beautiful stranger swoops into the lives of two people and changes them forever,” Amy said, and her hand slid up, until it was resting on the Doctor’s.
The Doctor froze, about to snatch his hand away. Then Rory put his hand on top of Amy’s, his bigger fingers overlapping and stroking the Doctor’s fingers gently.
“Sounds familiar,” Rory said, his tone dry.
“Well, it’s a bit more complicated than that,” the Doctor said, and there was something vaguely… gabbling about his tone. He sounded terrified.
“We don’t need you to reproduce,” Amy said, squeezing the Doctor’s fingers and rolling onto her side, until her head was resting on his shoulder.
“Amy… this isn’t… that is… Rory….” The Doctor trailed off as Rory copied Amy, wrapping an arm around the Doctor’s middle and squeezing him gently.
“Keep telling us about the Oankali,” Rory said, lacing his fingers together with Amy’s on the Doctor’s belly and squeezing them.
The Doctor swallowed - they would have to talk about this seriously, and soon. But… maybe, at this very moment, it was alright to lie here and enjoy the warmth of the two humans on either side of him. “Well… there are many translations of “ooloi”. The most common one… that is, the default… is “treasured stranger”.”
“So you’re our ooloi,” Amy said, her voice tickling the Doctor’s skin.
“No, I’m male, and the ooloi are a gender unto themselves,” the Doctor pointed out.
Rory put the hand not holding Amy’s over the Doctor’s mouth. “Don’t ruin the metaphor,” he said, then went back to cuddling him.
“Alright, alright,” the Doctor said, and sighed. He’d deal with the insult to his masculinity later. Possibly after they had that talk. But… in the meantime…. He sighed again, untangling his hands from his belly and wrapping an arm around each human, pulling them closer to him. Judging by the way they both relaxed against him, they approved, and he was reminded once again of how much they cared for him. “Treasured stranger” indeed.
From: cysfics
Title: Treasured Stranger
Characters and/or Pairings: Amy/Rory/11
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mentions of human/alien hybrids, which may make some folk uncomfortable. Vaguely fluffy.
Summary: The Doctor expounds on one of the many futures of the human race.
Notes: The Oankali (ooloi included) are the creation of Octavia E Butler. I’m just borrowing them.
Word Count: 2,128
Amy could feel the Doctor’s eyes on the back of her head. When she glanced sideways at Rory, he was looking back at her, and she had to smile - they were sharing that weird pseudo-psychic powers that couples shared. Or maybe the Doctor was just that obvious, and even Rory noticed it. Not that there was much of an “even” when it came to Rory - he was much more than people tended to give him credit for. More observant, more intelligent, more good looking. It was one of the first reasons that Amy had fallen in love with him.
“Doctor?” Amy turned around, her finger still twined with Rory’s, a little piece of her marveling, as it always did, at the way they fit together so well. As always, her other hand was stuffed into the pocket of her vest.
“Hm?” The Doctor was ambling a little bit behind them, his hands shoved into his own pockets, possibly an attempt at nonchalance. It was failing miserably. The Doctor couldn’t bluff to save his life (except when he could, and maybe he was only pretending to be attempting, but just thinking about that would give Amy a headache).
“Why did you take us here?” “Here” being a place that seemed to be nothing but a big meadow, with trees in the distance, so far away they were nothing but a vague haze in the distance. The purple grass was dotted with flowers like something out of a child’s coloring book in bright, primary colors. The whole of the place looked something like a kid’s coloring book. All simple lines, simpler colors. It looked like a world in progress.
“It’s a nice place,” the Doctor said somewhat defensively. “And there’s going to be something happening here that is very pretty that I thought you might like. That’s all.”
“What kind of pretty thing?” Rory looked over his shoulder at the Doctor, raising an eyebrow.
“An interesting thing that has potential to be very dangerous but is nonetheless very beautiful and I believe it is your right as human beings to see,” the Doctor said, and stopped, indicating a rock.
“Our right as human beings?” Amy sounded slightly incredulous, even as she sat on the rock, pressing her knees together for modesty’s sake.
“Well… sort of. It’s complicated.” The Doctor sat on the grass next to the rock, folding his ridiculously long legs and resting his chin on his knees. “Something… rather unpleasant happens on Earth, and a group of Save the Whales type aliens come ‘round to rescue you lot, only it’s less “save the whales” and more “shag the whales to create whale/human hybrids.” The Doctor took a breath and caught the human’s incredulous looks. “Just… look at the sky, will you?”
Rory sat down next to Amy, hip to hip and leg to leg. “We’re looking at the sky. What are we seeing?”
“Dunno,” Amy said, staring up at the light green sky. Then there was movement, and she gasped, her eyes going wide. “What is that?” She pointed upwards at a huge grey… structure, it seemed to be, almost like a living thing.
“That… is a ship.” The Doctor leaned back, his hands behind his head and his long legs crossed. “An Oankali ship.”
“Who’re the Oankali?” Amy’s eyes roamed across the Doctor’s legs, pausing at his big feet.
“They’re… well, they’re one of your futures. “Your” being the human race, or at least what they’re going to be eventually.”
“We won’t always be human beings?” Rory sounded moderately alarmed, although it wasn’t exactly news to him. Still, hearing it straight from the horse’s mouth (as it were) was a bit… disconcerting. It was strange to think of human beings not looking… well, human, as he thought of it.
“Well, you will be, and Amy will be. But your great-great-great grandchildren’s descendents won’t be… exactly like you two, as such.”
“Really?” Amy rested her head on Rory’s shoulder, and she could feel the Doctor’s eyes on them, almost like a physical pressure. His eyes were greedy, but she wasn’t sure what it was for - her body? Rory’s? Both? Or was it something more? Their linked hands, their easy intimacy?
“For one thing, that hair of yours won’t be around in another seven generations,” the Doctor said, gesturing vaguely at Amy’s head with one booted foot.
“What, really?” Amy shot Rory a look, then unlinked their hands. “But what are strange folks in the giant grey ships going to do to change humanity?”
“Yes, really. The original gingers were Neanderthals, so there you go. Nice enough folks, mind you, if a bit too happy to have a taste of their comrades brains.” The Doctor glanced at Amy and Rory, seeing the looks of “when will he get on with his original point?” good humor. “Well, you’ll get tentacles. Sort of.” The Doctor looked at their hands, then went back to staring up at the sky, the huge grey ship sedately moving across the sky, like corporeal clouds.
“Really? Like in those pictures Jeff has on his computer?”
“What pictures Jeff has on his computer?” Rory looked over at Amy. The two of them got up together, almost in unison, and sat next to the Doctor, Amy on his left and Rory on his right.
“The ones with the scantily clad girls and things out of an H.P. Lovecraft novel.”
“Since when do you read H.P. Lovecraft?”
“I’m not allowed to have layers?” Amy stuck her tongue out at Rory. “Or are you calling me stupid? Doctor, he’s calling me stupid.”
“I’m not calling you stupid,” Rory protested.
“He’s not calling you stupid,” the Doctor echoed, his eyes closed. He was trembling, ever so slightly. Probably from his proximity to the two humans.
“At any rate… what kind of tentacles are we talking about?” Amy lay back, staring up at the sky.
“Sensory tentacles. Think mobile eyes and ears and noses.” The Doctor kept his eyes shut tightly.
“How can you have mobile eyes and ears and noses?” Rory’s voice was so casual it wasn’t.
“Like an elephants trunk, maybe?” Amy was a better actress; maybe all those years of Kiss-O-Gram-ing had been good for something she could bring up in polite company after all.
“No, Oankali don’t use their tentacles for grasping anything,” the Doctor said, and he seemed more assured now. He was back in his teacher mode, and the Doctor loved doing nothing so much as teaching. After all, it gave him a chance to show off! “Although the ooloi have an extra set of arms. Sort of.”
“Ooloi?” Amy lay back, staring up at the great grey ships. “I thought we were talking about the Oankali.”
“We are talking about the Oankali,” the Doctor said. “The ooloi are… sort of like a third gender. Although they don’t exactly participate in reproduction. As such. Well, they‘re responsible for reproduction, but they don‘t contribute to it the way… well, you lot do.” He seemed rather uncomfortable.
“What’s the point of a third gender if it doesn’t participate in reproduction? How does it contribute, then?” Rory lay back on the grass as well, his hands behind his head. The ships didn’t seem to be landing, just floating up there. They were huge, and the slightly organic look of them was simultaneously appealing and grotesque. It was like watching a living car.
“Oh, it’s good for loads of thing!” The Doctor’s eyes popped open, and he rolled onto his side to look Rory in the face. His face was a bit unnerving, this close - he looked human, at first glance. Then something would catch the eye, and it would be obvious exactly how alien he was. “Raising children, gathering food, providing for the group as a whole, emotional bonding….” He lay back on his back, careful not to touch the humans on either side of him. “And it contributes by building the children. Sort of.”
“Well, yes, that’s all well and good, but how do they contribute to reproduction?” Rory stretched, his shirt riding up ever so slightly. Then the words caught up with his brain. “… how do you build children?”
“Biological genetic engineers,” the Doctor said cheerfully.
“Well, it does make sense,” Amy said. “Much neater.” She paused. “How does it work? Isn’t all genetic engineering biological, technically?”
“It’s rather complicated,” the Doctor said. “Quite frankly, I’m not entirely sure how they do it. They’ve got special organs for it, and it’s generally considered rude to walk up to someone and say “Hello, do you think you would be so kind as to allow me to see your internal organs?”.”
“Since when do you care about rudeness?” Amy grinned, then yawned, stretching. The weather here was warm, comfortable, and she was very tempted to close her eyes, take a nap. But some little part of her mind was telling her that something important was happening. Something that would determine… something. She wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but it scared her and made her feel some kind of warmth at the base of her stomach at the same time.
“Rory, she’s being mean to me,” the Doctor said. “Make her stop.”
Rory rolled his eyes. “She’s being honest,” he said. “Tell us more about these ooloi.”
The Doctor huffed, but as always, his urge to show off (or teach, depending on your perspective) always overcame his urge to sulk. “Well, an Oankali relationship has three people in it. The male and female - contributors of the genetic material… contribute their genetic material.” The Doctor sounded uneasy. “They’re usually related. Brother and sister, sometimes cousins.”
“Aren’t they worried about, y’know, the whole three thumbs problem?”
“Three thumbs would be pretty handy, actually. Anyway, when the Oankali meet you lot, they’ve got proper daisy hands. Fingers all ‘round.” The Doctor shifted his hands, moving them from behind his head to his belly, long, slender fingers laced together. Maybe they had fallen asleep. Could they fall asleep, what with the two hearts?
“Well, it’s not desirable with humans,” Amy said, stating the obvious. “How do the Oankali prevent it, if they’re all marrying their brothers and sisters?”
“That’s what the ooloi is for,” the Doctor said in that infuriating know-it-all voice of his. “They’re not related at all.”
“So… the ooloi person is a complete outsider who brings the other two together?” Amy’s hand was on the ground, right next to the Doctor’s side.
“Well, it’s a bit more complicated than that,” the Doctor said. His voice was still, and it was possible that he was shaking ever so slightly. Something delicate and warm was blooming - something that was young and wobbly, and it was terrifying and beautiful.
“A dashing and beautiful stranger swoops into the lives of two people and changes them forever,” Amy said, and her hand slid up, until it was resting on the Doctor’s.
The Doctor froze, about to snatch his hand away. Then Rory put his hand on top of Amy’s, his bigger fingers overlapping and stroking the Doctor’s fingers gently.
“Sounds familiar,” Rory said, his tone dry.
“Well, it’s a bit more complicated than that,” the Doctor said, and there was something vaguely… gabbling about his tone. He sounded terrified.
“We don’t need you to reproduce,” Amy said, squeezing the Doctor’s fingers and rolling onto her side, until her head was resting on his shoulder.
“Amy… this isn’t… that is… Rory….” The Doctor trailed off as Rory copied Amy, wrapping an arm around the Doctor’s middle and squeezing him gently.
“Keep telling us about the Oankali,” Rory said, lacing his fingers together with Amy’s on the Doctor’s belly and squeezing them.
The Doctor swallowed - they would have to talk about this seriously, and soon. But… maybe, at this very moment, it was alright to lie here and enjoy the warmth of the two humans on either side of him. “Well… there are many translations of “ooloi”. The most common one… that is, the default… is “treasured stranger”.”
“So you’re our ooloi,” Amy said, her voice tickling the Doctor’s skin.
“No, I’m male, and the ooloi are a gender unto themselves,” the Doctor pointed out.
Rory put the hand not holding Amy’s over the Doctor’s mouth. “Don’t ruin the metaphor,” he said, then went back to cuddling him.
“Alright, alright,” the Doctor said, and sighed. He’d deal with the insult to his masculinity later. Possibly after they had that talk. But… in the meantime…. He sighed again, untangling his hands from his belly and wrapping an arm around each human, pulling them closer to him. Judging by the way they both relaxed against him, they approved, and he was reminded once again of how much they cared for him. “Treasured stranger” indeed.