Fic: Beautiful Girl 1/1 [Doctor Who, R, D/D]
Title: Beautiful Girl 1/1
Author: GylzGirl
Rating: R
Author's Note: Sequel to Pretty Boy. This one manages to get curve in there too but has given up any pretense of drabbledom
“Donna?” The Doctor called softly as he peeked his head into the kitchen. It was empty as had been the library. He scratched behind his ear and headed down the corridor toward her room.
It was the most logical place for her to have gone niggled a little voice in the back of his mind that belonged to the TARDIS.
The Doctor rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. “Alright, I'm stalling. I admit it,” he said quietly as he inched his way forward.
He had waited for Donna to return to the console room, at first because he was still rather too stunned to move. When it became clear she wasn't coming back, the Doctor set off looking for her. The TARDIS wasn't telling him Donna's location as she usually would. This meant either that she was mad at him or she wanted him to be surprised. Neither one usually boded well.
Currently, the Doctor was more worried about Donna being mad at him. The TARDIS always forgave him, humans however could sometimes prove more immune to his charm and apologies. He had only meant to tease her a bit so they could have a good laugh and set a better mood then it would be off to somewhere nice to cheer themselves up properly. He wasn't expecting her to try to seduce him, if that's what that had been. She could have just been having him on. The Doctor ran his hand back through his hair. He honestly didn't know what the hell had happened back there. Had he insulted her by refusing? Not that he'd really refused, just sort of gobbed wordlessly like a trout washed up on the beach. If his brain had been working he'd have.. he'd have...
Kissed her
He stopped dead in his tracks and threw a murderous glare at the walls of his time machine.
You know you wanted to this said in the same sing-song way he'd taunted Donna earlier.
The Doctor wiped a hand across his mouth. No matter how much he hated to admit it, the TARDIS was right. He had wanted to kiss Donna so badly. That mouth, that beautiful vicious mouth of hers. It was the first thing he really noticed about her even if it wasn't in the most pleasant context when they met. But oh, it was pleasing now. She'd used it to sooth him, to scold him and even to save his life. Sometimes all he wanted to do was still it with his own. His hand in her fiery hair, holding her to him, hoping she would never let him let her go.
The Doctor nodded silently to himself and turned away from Donna's room, headed back for the console room. He stopped when he heard a door creak open behind him. He turned. “Donna?” he asked. She wasn't there but the door to her room was suddenly standing open halfway; white light from behind it spilling out in a triangle that ended at the tip of the Doctor's trainer.
He inhaled deeply. “Subtle,” he said to the TARDIS as his feet bore him forward.
He knocked on the door lightly. “Donna?” He carefully peeked around the door, entering when he didn't see her. The Doctor sighed in concurrent relief and disappointment. “Wonder where she's wandered off to,” he muttered, a little concerned that he really might have upset her. He knelt down on the floor and picked up a handful of clothing. The Doctor's brow furrowed. Donna had been wearing those earlier.
The very instant he thought it, the door to the bathroom swung quickly and silently open. A buildup of steamy mist rolled into the bedroom, clearing the view behind it. The Doctor rose dropping the clothes as his mouth returned to trout mode.
Under the water of the open shower, Donna stood with her back to him. Both of the Doctor's hearts started to hammer. He knew he should go. If she turned, if she saw him, she would kill him. He couldn't help himself though. Her long red hair, darkened and lengthened by the weight of the water. The curve of her hips accentuating the full round bottom that she always sought to conceal. Droplets beaded along the ivory of her shapely legs.
Eyes wide, the Doctor exhaled. “Beautiful.”
Donna turned his direction as soon as the word left his mouth. The thrill of impending death coursed through his body. Then he realized that her hands were in her hair and her eyes were closed against the sting of the shampoo. Never one to walk away from danger, the Doctor stayed where he was, transfixed.
Her breasts were everything that her clothes had hinted at and more; the shape and weight of them begging to be held. Pale pink nipples contracting in the cool air, simulating what they would look like excited by his touch. Her belly, another source of anguish for Donna, was a luscious curve that urged the eye down to the soft red curls at the apex of her legs.
Against all sanity and survival instinct, the Doctor found himself walking forward.
The touch of a warm thumb on her cheek was apparently the first indication Donna had that she wasn't alone. She gasped, eyes snapping open in fear. Her eyes focused in on the Doctor's face. His normally ruffled hair plastered down with water, his clothes near to being drenched and clinging to his body. Her mouth gaped open but no sound would come out.
The Doctor watched the emotions tumble behind Donna's shocked blue eyes; fear, embarrassment, anger. He took her face between his hands and gently touched his nose to hers. “Beautiful, beautiful girl,” he said.
In the next breath, his mouth was on hers; his hands caressing her cheeks. Her eyes fluttered shut, pushing out warm tears as her hands found their way into his hair.
No sound could be heard except the beating of hearts, the splash of water on tile and the contented humming of the TARDIS.
Author: GylzGirl
Rating: R
Author's Note: Sequel to Pretty Boy. This one manages to get curve in there too but has given up any pretense of drabbledom
“Donna?” The Doctor called softly as he peeked his head into the kitchen. It was empty as had been the library. He scratched behind his ear and headed down the corridor toward her room.
It was the most logical place for her to have gone niggled a little voice in the back of his mind that belonged to the TARDIS.
The Doctor rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. “Alright, I'm stalling. I admit it,” he said quietly as he inched his way forward.
He had waited for Donna to return to the console room, at first because he was still rather too stunned to move. When it became clear she wasn't coming back, the Doctor set off looking for her. The TARDIS wasn't telling him Donna's location as she usually would. This meant either that she was mad at him or she wanted him to be surprised. Neither one usually boded well.
Currently, the Doctor was more worried about Donna being mad at him. The TARDIS always forgave him, humans however could sometimes prove more immune to his charm and apologies. He had only meant to tease her a bit so they could have a good laugh and set a better mood then it would be off to somewhere nice to cheer themselves up properly. He wasn't expecting her to try to seduce him, if that's what that had been. She could have just been having him on. The Doctor ran his hand back through his hair. He honestly didn't know what the hell had happened back there. Had he insulted her by refusing? Not that he'd really refused, just sort of gobbed wordlessly like a trout washed up on the beach. If his brain had been working he'd have.. he'd have...
Kissed her
He stopped dead in his tracks and threw a murderous glare at the walls of his time machine.
You know you wanted to this said in the same sing-song way he'd taunted Donna earlier.
The Doctor wiped a hand across his mouth. No matter how much he hated to admit it, the TARDIS was right. He had wanted to kiss Donna so badly. That mouth, that beautiful vicious mouth of hers. It was the first thing he really noticed about her even if it wasn't in the most pleasant context when they met. But oh, it was pleasing now. She'd used it to sooth him, to scold him and even to save his life. Sometimes all he wanted to do was still it with his own. His hand in her fiery hair, holding her to him, hoping she would never let him let her go.
The Doctor nodded silently to himself and turned away from Donna's room, headed back for the console room. He stopped when he heard a door creak open behind him. He turned. “Donna?” he asked. She wasn't there but the door to her room was suddenly standing open halfway; white light from behind it spilling out in a triangle that ended at the tip of the Doctor's trainer.
He inhaled deeply. “Subtle,” he said to the TARDIS as his feet bore him forward.
He knocked on the door lightly. “Donna?” He carefully peeked around the door, entering when he didn't see her. The Doctor sighed in concurrent relief and disappointment. “Wonder where she's wandered off to,” he muttered, a little concerned that he really might have upset her. He knelt down on the floor and picked up a handful of clothing. The Doctor's brow furrowed. Donna had been wearing those earlier.
The very instant he thought it, the door to the bathroom swung quickly and silently open. A buildup of steamy mist rolled into the bedroom, clearing the view behind it. The Doctor rose dropping the clothes as his mouth returned to trout mode.
Under the water of the open shower, Donna stood with her back to him. Both of the Doctor's hearts started to hammer. He knew he should go. If she turned, if she saw him, she would kill him. He couldn't help himself though. Her long red hair, darkened and lengthened by the weight of the water. The curve of her hips accentuating the full round bottom that she always sought to conceal. Droplets beaded along the ivory of her shapely legs.
Eyes wide, the Doctor exhaled. “Beautiful.”
Donna turned his direction as soon as the word left his mouth. The thrill of impending death coursed through his body. Then he realized that her hands were in her hair and her eyes were closed against the sting of the shampoo. Never one to walk away from danger, the Doctor stayed where he was, transfixed.
Her breasts were everything that her clothes had hinted at and more; the shape and weight of them begging to be held. Pale pink nipples contracting in the cool air, simulating what they would look like excited by his touch. Her belly, another source of anguish for Donna, was a luscious curve that urged the eye down to the soft red curls at the apex of her legs.
Against all sanity and survival instinct, the Doctor found himself walking forward.
The touch of a warm thumb on her cheek was apparently the first indication Donna had that she wasn't alone. She gasped, eyes snapping open in fear. Her eyes focused in on the Doctor's face. His normally ruffled hair plastered down with water, his clothes near to being drenched and clinging to his body. Her mouth gaped open but no sound would come out.
The Doctor watched the emotions tumble behind Donna's shocked blue eyes; fear, embarrassment, anger. He took her face between his hands and gently touched his nose to hers. “Beautiful, beautiful girl,” he said.
In the next breath, his mouth was on hers; his hands caressing her cheeks. Her eyes fluttered shut, pushing out warm tears as her hands found their way into his hair.
No sound could be heard except the beating of hearts, the splash of water on tile and the contented humming of the TARDIS.