"She's like a rainbow" - Eleven/Amy one-shot
Fandom: Dr Who
Title: She's like a rainbow
Pairing: Eleven/Amy
Rating: PG
Summary: Exploring the fascination the Doctor has with ginger hair.
A.N: So...this fic kind of just wrote itself. It seems I am as much obsessed with Amy's hair as the Doctor is XD First Dr Who fic ever, so comments would be appreciated :) Enjoy!
She shoots colours all around,
Like a sunset going down.
---
After the horrendous journey, the fall through the TARDIS (and the climb back up), the first thing he notices as he clambers over the side is that the little girl staring at him is ginger. It’s like the cosmos is mocking him. Eleven regenerations - eleven - and not once has he gotten ginger hair.
Some people have all the luck.
---
Five minutes (or, as it turns out, twelve years) later, the first thing he notices isn’t ginger hair, but the legs that seem to go on for miles before - oh, that’s an angry face. He also suspects this girl is ginger too, she’s definitely got the temper for it; he’s handcuffed for Rasillon’s sake, to a radiator. It’s only later, when he realises that this woman with the long legs and the feisty temper (and the ginger hair) is also Amelia Pond that he realises just how much trouble she’s going to be.
She’s ginger, of course she’s going to be trouble.
---
He gets the feeling that Amy doesn’t quite believe what’s going on around them - he blames it on the TARDIS and her wicked sense of timing that caused him to be so very late in returning for her - so he flings open the doors and lets her float just outside.
Her hair is spread around her, the starlight gleaming off the auburn strands, and he’s transfixed, holding onto her ankle tightly because he doesn’t want to let her go, he can’t let her go. Something new and foreign but not altogether unfamiliar is settling inside of him as he pulls her back onto solid ground, pulls her into his arms, and he swallows it down. He knows where this feeling leads; to bad, bad places and dangerous territories, places he simply won’t allow himself to go.
But that doesn’t stop both his hearts from beating double-time and his mouth from whispering curses to the heavens every time he watches her auburn locks fall around her face, her eyes light up, a smile tug on the corner of her lips.
It’s only a matter of time before he decides to hang everything and let his feelings lead him wherever they choose.
---
Thankfully, it’s Amy that finally takes the initiative. He finds himself pushed back against a wall of the TARDIS with force he’d only once glimpsed when she hit him with a cricket bat. Her lips are soft but demanding; her whole body is demanding as she grabs his shirt and pulls him closer. He winds an arm around her, holding onto her waist through the fabric of her jumper and tangles a hand in those treacherous auburn tresses.
After all, it’s entirely their fault he’s ended up in this situation, or perhaps it’s the TARDIS’ for crash-landing him into Amy’s back garden in the first place.
Or perhaps it’s his fault for having such a damn fascination with ginger hair.
Title: She's like a rainbow
Pairing: Eleven/Amy
Rating: PG
Summary: Exploring the fascination the Doctor has with ginger hair.
A.N: So...this fic kind of just wrote itself. It seems I am as much obsessed with Amy's hair as the Doctor is XD First Dr Who fic ever, so comments would be appreciated :) Enjoy!
She shoots colours all around,
Like a sunset going down.
---
After the horrendous journey, the fall through the TARDIS (and the climb back up), the first thing he notices as he clambers over the side is that the little girl staring at him is ginger. It’s like the cosmos is mocking him. Eleven regenerations - eleven - and not once has he gotten ginger hair.
Some people have all the luck.
---
Five minutes (or, as it turns out, twelve years) later, the first thing he notices isn’t ginger hair, but the legs that seem to go on for miles before - oh, that’s an angry face. He also suspects this girl is ginger too, she’s definitely got the temper for it; he’s handcuffed for Rasillon’s sake, to a radiator. It’s only later, when he realises that this woman with the long legs and the feisty temper (and the ginger hair) is also Amelia Pond that he realises just how much trouble she’s going to be.
She’s ginger, of course she’s going to be trouble.
---
He gets the feeling that Amy doesn’t quite believe what’s going on around them - he blames it on the TARDIS and her wicked sense of timing that caused him to be so very late in returning for her - so he flings open the doors and lets her float just outside.
Her hair is spread around her, the starlight gleaming off the auburn strands, and he’s transfixed, holding onto her ankle tightly because he doesn’t want to let her go, he can’t let her go. Something new and foreign but not altogether unfamiliar is settling inside of him as he pulls her back onto solid ground, pulls her into his arms, and he swallows it down. He knows where this feeling leads; to bad, bad places and dangerous territories, places he simply won’t allow himself to go.
But that doesn’t stop both his hearts from beating double-time and his mouth from whispering curses to the heavens every time he watches her auburn locks fall around her face, her eyes light up, a smile tug on the corner of her lips.
It’s only a matter of time before he decides to hang everything and let his feelings lead him wherever they choose.
---
Thankfully, it’s Amy that finally takes the initiative. He finds himself pushed back against a wall of the TARDIS with force he’d only once glimpsed when she hit him with a cricket bat. Her lips are soft but demanding; her whole body is demanding as she grabs his shirt and pulls him closer. He winds an arm around her, holding onto her waist through the fabric of her jumper and tangles a hand in those treacherous auburn tresses.
After all, it’s entirely their fault he’s ended up in this situation, or perhaps it’s the TARDIS’ for crash-landing him into Amy’s back garden in the first place.
Or perhaps it’s his fault for having such a damn fascination with ginger hair.