DW Fic - Simmer Dim (9/18)
Title - Simmer Dim (9/18)
Author - joely_jo
Characters - Ten/Rose, Mickey, OCs
Rating - R (for language and adult content)
Summary - With the events of Doomsday just a distant memory, Rose Tyler and Mickey Smith make a discovery that they cannot leave alone. But what they find will take Rose on a journey she never expected. Will she come to terms with what she’s faced with, or will the carefully constructed life she’s built for herself come crashing down?
Author’s Notes - I confess to a little recycling with this fic. The idea for this story actually began with the fic I wrote for the OSK Summer Lovin’ Ficathon, The Storm Inside, which in turn was inspired by watching the episodes Human Nature and Family of Blood. I thought it would be interesting to look at what happened to Rose post-Doomsday, but also to try to portray what I perceive to be the unconditional attraction between the Doctor and Rose. I swore I was going to scale down my DW writing after Myths and Legends, but here we are again… It’s another long one, so I hope you enjoy it!
Many thanks to my betas sensiblecat and most especially aibhinn without whose reassurance I may never have worked up the guts to post this.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
After she’d dried her eyes, Rose Tyler had crept down the narrow staircase and, pausing only a moment to listen to the sounds of him in the kitchen, had left the house and returned to her hotel room. She sat on the bed, staring out of the window at the slate-coloured sky and wondered what she was to do now. Part of her could hardly believe that she’d walked away from him; if she really believed it was the Doctor she’d found, why had she left him again? And yet, equally, she knew that she’d reached an impasse. He didn’t know her, didn’t remember a thing about who he was, and she didn’t know which was more frightening.
She took a deep breath and stepped back into the bathroom. She switched on the shower in a daze, shed her clothes and climbed in, using the hot water to pummel some of the confusion from her body. She dressed in fresh clothes and stood staring at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. Just three days ago, she’d been filled with hope, certain she was about to find the Doctor and put her life back on the track she’d always wanted it to be on, and now here she was, alone and hopeless once again. It felt exactly like it had in the wake of Darlig Ulv Stranden. Lying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, she let the tears fall freely again, until mercifully, she fell asleep.
It was after one when she finally woke, rolling onto her side and letting her eyes adjust to the daylight. The tears had just started to well up again when her mobile rang and forced her to calm herself. She fumbled it out of her handbag and answered it. “Hi, Mum!”
It was Jonny. She smiled, despite herself. “Hi, sweetheart, are you okay?”
There was a chuckle in the background that she recognised as Mickey’s and the sound of some high-pitched cartoon. “I’ve been sailing again, Mum. It’s great! Mickey’s been brilliant, and tonight we’re watching another DVD and having pizza and garlic bread. We’re gonna go see Jack tomorrow and I’m gonna take him sailing. He says he’s really excited!” Jonny’s excited voice trailed away and there was another chuckle from Mickey.
Rose felt herself sigh. At that moment she wanted nothing more than to sweep her son up into her arms and hold him tightly against her. “That’s great, Jonny. I’m really pleased.”
There was a bit more laughter, then Jonny refocused on the conversation. “Have you found Dad?” he asked after a moment.
She paused. What did she say to him? The truth? That she’d found him but he hadn’t got the faintest idea who she was, or for that matter, who he was himself? She heard her son’s breathing down the phone and almost felt his anticipation. She swallowed hard and replied, “I thought I had, but it turned out to be someone else. They think he’s out at sea still.”
Jonny grunted and added, “That’s okay, Mum. It’s gonna be a big surprise for him anyway.” Sometimes he shocked her to the core with his intuition and she found herself wondering whether there was more of the Time Lord in him than their tests had revealed. Mickey’s shouting voice jolted her from her thoughts, asking if Jonny wanted ice cream. “I’ve got to go, Mum,” he said. “Mickey’s got Phish Food. Love you!”
“Mm hm,” she managed in reply. “See you soon, sweetheart.”
The phone hung up and she was left in silence. She stood and went to the mirror again, running her fingers through her hair and wiping the sleep from her eyes. Maybe Jonny was right. If she gave him some time, it might seem less of a surprise.
And it was then that there was a knock at the door. Expecting the cleaners, Rose called out, “Come in!” and was annoyed when there was a pause, then another, more tentative knock.
She sighed and went to the door, swinging it open, mouth open to snap to the knocker about having cotton wool in their ears, and stopped dead.
It was the Doctor, standing in the doorway, looking beleaguered and tired, dressed in what looked to be a pair of work jeans, a thick Fair-Isle patterned jumper and heavy brown boots. His eyes met hers, sincere, and he nodded wordlessly. His hair was falling in front of his eyes and he offered her a meek smile that made him look so endearingly uncertain.
She stood staring at him for a long moment, not quite believing what her eyes were telling her, and then she dared to step forward. Her hand reached out to him and he took it hesitantly, turning it over in his own. “I’ve been to every hotel in town,” he said in a quiet voice. “I asked for you by name, begged on one or two occasions.” His smile widened slightly. “I hope you don’t mind…”
Mind, she thought, how could I mind? “I couldn’t leave yet,” she admitted.
A couple of maids walked past in the corridor, affording them both curious glances, and she ducked her head and pulled him gently into the room. She shut the door behind them, but he just stood, barely inside the room, and looked at his boots. “I not quite sure what I’m doing here, Rose. I don’t know who the man is you’re looking for, but I…” He paused. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Rose found herself speechless. She stared at him, frowning. “I don’t understand,” she murmured finally.
He smiled wryly. “You’re not the only one.”
And suddenly she realised that it didn’t really matter. It was enough that he was here, in this room, breathing the same air that she was. She reached out and touched his arm, rubbing it through the material of his jumper. They gazed at each for a long moment, and then slowly, he took her hand from his arm and squeezed it. “Let me show you my life,” he said.
Nodding, Rose allowed him to take his hand in hers, ignoring the wild beating of her heart and the familiarity of the gesture, and followed him out of the door.
****
It was only natural that he should take her to his home, though when he had told her that was what he was doing, she had anticipated a return to the little cottage she’d spent the night in. He seemed pleased, though, to watch her expression change when he led her down to the harbour and the smile filter onto her face when he showed her his boat. “This is my boat,” he murmured. “I spent all my money on it, every penny I owned to buy it, and it’s my life now. I spend more time on board it than I do in the cottage.”
Using a rope and considerable muscle strength, he swung himself on board then reached over the edge for her. “Put your foot on the landing board, then lift your arms up and I’ll do the rest.”
She did as he told her, and the next thing she knew, he’d lifted her clean over the edge and set her down on the deck. She wobbled a little into him at the feel of the unsteady floor beneath her and he grabbed her and held her upright with a smile. “Steady, now,” he said.
Her eyes shifted around the boat. It was a reasonable size, certainly much bigger than the dinghies Jonny sailed around Cardiff Bay, and though it was not new it was well-cared for. New paint shone from all the boards and the metal was bright and oiled. She saw the smile on his face as she looked and understood that this little ship was his pride and joy. “I haven’t let anyone else on board this boat except the harbour safety inspector,” he admitted, turning and releasing the mooring ropes one by one. “So, you could say that you’re the first, Rose Tyler.”
The sparkle in his eye was achingly familiar, but instead of feeling sorry for herself, Rose actually found a smile forming on her lips. “That’s quite a claim, Do… John…” she said.
He blinked at her slight slip, pausing for a tiny moment, then continued with his tasks. He took a Yale key out of his jeans pocket and used it to open the cabin door. Stepping inside, he flopped onto the chair and wheeled it backwards until it hit the wall with a hollow thump. “Seems to be in the air at the moment… claims, that is…” He grinned boyishly at her.
She studied him carefully, wondering just what his meaning was, but then he blew a breath out and beckoned her into the cabin with him. There was just the tiniest note of flirtation in his manner, an ease that there hadn’t been the night before; Rose found she liked it. She stepped towards him and looked at the expanse of dials and controls on the console, reminded of the loving but proprietary way the Doctor had always looked upon the ragbag nature of the TARDIS. “So,” he rolled the word around his mouth playfully. “How do you feel about being the first?”
Rose dragged her eyes up from the console and looked at him questioningly, smiling. “I don’t know… Kind of flattering, I suppose.”
He leaned forward and pulled a couple of switches down and the engine gunned beneath them, a low, throaty rumble. Rose jumped. “What? What are you doing?”
He flashed her a warm smile. “We’re going for a trip.”
The boat lurched beneath her and began to move, sliding out of the berth and out into the harbour. Rose felt a slight edge of fear at the thought that they were moving away from land, her old distaste for water rearing its ugly head. Smith turned the boat and pretty soon they were heading out towards open water, moving steadily.
Slowly, the horizon became the only thing within sight, a grey and unmoving line where sky met water in the far distance. After a while, Smith dropped the engines to a low thrum and leaned back in his seat. “There,” he said. “This is what I love.” He shifted past her and stepped onto the deck. Rose followed him, wanting to watch him.
He walked around to the bow of the ship, the wind whipping his hair, and stared out across the grey water, quiet once again. She joined him. His breathing was slow and soft and his eyes searched the depths, like he was reading the leaves of a book he knew well. He cleared his throat. “I’ve never really felt comfortable anywhere except here,” he said. “Land is stable, dull… uninteresting… Being out on the sea is unpredictable. The sea can be your friend, but it can also be your enemy. You trust it at your peril, but always respect it.”
“I’ve never liked the water,” she admitted.
He smiled. “I could tell.” Reaching down, he grasped her hand in his. “It’s something you either love or hate. If you love it, it will end up being a part of your soul. If you hate it, you will always struggle to understand its appeal.”
Rose found her thoughts turning to Jonny and his love of the ocean. She wondered if, somehow, he’d locked onto his father’s thoughts across all this distance and, unwittingly, they’d influenced each other. She was tempted to mention her son, but then decided against it. Things were just beginning to settle between them and a connection of sorts had been established. She didn’t want to destroy all that by reminding him of what he’d perceive as a responsibility.
She heard him sigh and felt his thumb rub in a small circle over hers. He lifted her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss that lasted a moment longer than it should have done onto her knuckles. “How about some lunch?” he asked as he released her.
She nodded dumbly, her eyes searching his. After a moment, he broke away from her and slipped into the cabin, reappearing a second later with the paper bag of goods he’d bought from the little café they’d stopped at on the way here. “Here,” he said. “I got her to wrap them in tin foil to keep them warm.”
“What are they?”
“Have a look,” he said and handed her the paper bag. She peered inside and found two small parcels of tin foil. Picking one up gingerly because of its heat, she peeled it open and laughed out loud.
Chips.
“I got them with lots of salt and a splash of vinegar. I hope you don’t mind?”
She shook her head incredulously. How was this happening? This man who claimed not to know who she was had bought her chips and even added salt and vinegar with apparently no knowledge of her preferences. She dug in and pulled out a long, perfectly cooked chip and bit into it, grinning. “It’s perfect,” she told him. “Absolutely perfect.”
He grinned back at her. He watched her eating for a moment, and then took some himself, looking back out to sea and falling silent again. They ate quietly, until the chips were nearly all gone, Rose’s mind turning over and over. It felt so odd to be in his company again; he had always been something of an enigma, who never revealed his whole self to anyone, but now she felt it more keenly than ever.
A glance at her watch told her it was nearing three o’clock. He caught her looking and smiled nervously. “You don’t have anywhere to be, do you?” he asked.
“No, no… I was just… You always had a way of making me forget the time, that’s all.”
The smile broadened. “That’s good,” he said, “because I was enjoying your company.”
She decided to change the subject. “It stays light here for a long while,” she observed after a moment’s silence.
“It does. It’s called the Simmer Dim… You see, we’re much nearer the North Pole here, so the hours of daylight during summer are longer. In June and July it never really gets completely dark. You can sit out on the ocean and watch the sun track along the horizon through the night. I do that sometimes… head out to sea just to watch that. It lets me think.”
Rose nodded. “If you want, I’ll take you out again at night and we can watch it. It’s truly beautiful on a clear night when you can see the stars and the sun in the same sky.”
His offer made her turn and look at him, surprised, and she smiled at the tentativeness in his eyes. He seemed suddenly like a little boy, daring himself to ask a girl to walk home with him. “Yeah,” she said. “That’d be nice.” And she reached for his hand again.
To be continued...
(and I also got Photoshop-happy this weekend and made some cover art for this fic, you can see it here, if you're interested!)
Author - joely_jo
Characters - Ten/Rose, Mickey, OCs
Rating - R (for language and adult content)
Summary - With the events of Doomsday just a distant memory, Rose Tyler and Mickey Smith make a discovery that they cannot leave alone. But what they find will take Rose on a journey she never expected. Will she come to terms with what she’s faced with, or will the carefully constructed life she’s built for herself come crashing down?
Author’s Notes - I confess to a little recycling with this fic. The idea for this story actually began with the fic I wrote for the OSK Summer Lovin’ Ficathon, The Storm Inside, which in turn was inspired by watching the episodes Human Nature and Family of Blood. I thought it would be interesting to look at what happened to Rose post-Doomsday, but also to try to portray what I perceive to be the unconditional attraction between the Doctor and Rose. I swore I was going to scale down my DW writing after Myths and Legends, but here we are again… It’s another long one, so I hope you enjoy it!
Many thanks to my betas sensiblecat and most especially aibhinn without whose reassurance I may never have worked up the guts to post this.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
After she’d dried her eyes, Rose Tyler had crept down the narrow staircase and, pausing only a moment to listen to the sounds of him in the kitchen, had left the house and returned to her hotel room. She sat on the bed, staring out of the window at the slate-coloured sky and wondered what she was to do now. Part of her could hardly believe that she’d walked away from him; if she really believed it was the Doctor she’d found, why had she left him again? And yet, equally, she knew that she’d reached an impasse. He didn’t know her, didn’t remember a thing about who he was, and she didn’t know which was more frightening.
She took a deep breath and stepped back into the bathroom. She switched on the shower in a daze, shed her clothes and climbed in, using the hot water to pummel some of the confusion from her body. She dressed in fresh clothes and stood staring at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. Just three days ago, she’d been filled with hope, certain she was about to find the Doctor and put her life back on the track she’d always wanted it to be on, and now here she was, alone and hopeless once again. It felt exactly like it had in the wake of Darlig Ulv Stranden. Lying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, she let the tears fall freely again, until mercifully, she fell asleep.
It was after one when she finally woke, rolling onto her side and letting her eyes adjust to the daylight. The tears had just started to well up again when her mobile rang and forced her to calm herself. She fumbled it out of her handbag and answered it. “Hi, Mum!”
It was Jonny. She smiled, despite herself. “Hi, sweetheart, are you okay?”
There was a chuckle in the background that she recognised as Mickey’s and the sound of some high-pitched cartoon. “I’ve been sailing again, Mum. It’s great! Mickey’s been brilliant, and tonight we’re watching another DVD and having pizza and garlic bread. We’re gonna go see Jack tomorrow and I’m gonna take him sailing. He says he’s really excited!” Jonny’s excited voice trailed away and there was another chuckle from Mickey.
Rose felt herself sigh. At that moment she wanted nothing more than to sweep her son up into her arms and hold him tightly against her. “That’s great, Jonny. I’m really pleased.”
There was a bit more laughter, then Jonny refocused on the conversation. “Have you found Dad?” he asked after a moment.
She paused. What did she say to him? The truth? That she’d found him but he hadn’t got the faintest idea who she was, or for that matter, who he was himself? She heard her son’s breathing down the phone and almost felt his anticipation. She swallowed hard and replied, “I thought I had, but it turned out to be someone else. They think he’s out at sea still.”
Jonny grunted and added, “That’s okay, Mum. It’s gonna be a big surprise for him anyway.” Sometimes he shocked her to the core with his intuition and she found herself wondering whether there was more of the Time Lord in him than their tests had revealed. Mickey’s shouting voice jolted her from her thoughts, asking if Jonny wanted ice cream. “I’ve got to go, Mum,” he said. “Mickey’s got Phish Food. Love you!”
“Mm hm,” she managed in reply. “See you soon, sweetheart.”
The phone hung up and she was left in silence. She stood and went to the mirror again, running her fingers through her hair and wiping the sleep from her eyes. Maybe Jonny was right. If she gave him some time, it might seem less of a surprise.
And it was then that there was a knock at the door. Expecting the cleaners, Rose called out, “Come in!” and was annoyed when there was a pause, then another, more tentative knock.
She sighed and went to the door, swinging it open, mouth open to snap to the knocker about having cotton wool in their ears, and stopped dead.
It was the Doctor, standing in the doorway, looking beleaguered and tired, dressed in what looked to be a pair of work jeans, a thick Fair-Isle patterned jumper and heavy brown boots. His eyes met hers, sincere, and he nodded wordlessly. His hair was falling in front of his eyes and he offered her a meek smile that made him look so endearingly uncertain.
She stood staring at him for a long moment, not quite believing what her eyes were telling her, and then she dared to step forward. Her hand reached out to him and he took it hesitantly, turning it over in his own. “I’ve been to every hotel in town,” he said in a quiet voice. “I asked for you by name, begged on one or two occasions.” His smile widened slightly. “I hope you don’t mind…”
Mind, she thought, how could I mind? “I couldn’t leave yet,” she admitted.
A couple of maids walked past in the corridor, affording them both curious glances, and she ducked her head and pulled him gently into the room. She shut the door behind them, but he just stood, barely inside the room, and looked at his boots. “I not quite sure what I’m doing here, Rose. I don’t know who the man is you’re looking for, but I…” He paused. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Rose found herself speechless. She stared at him, frowning. “I don’t understand,” she murmured finally.
He smiled wryly. “You’re not the only one.”
And suddenly she realised that it didn’t really matter. It was enough that he was here, in this room, breathing the same air that she was. She reached out and touched his arm, rubbing it through the material of his jumper. They gazed at each for a long moment, and then slowly, he took her hand from his arm and squeezed it. “Let me show you my life,” he said.
Nodding, Rose allowed him to take his hand in hers, ignoring the wild beating of her heart and the familiarity of the gesture, and followed him out of the door.
****
It was only natural that he should take her to his home, though when he had told her that was what he was doing, she had anticipated a return to the little cottage she’d spent the night in. He seemed pleased, though, to watch her expression change when he led her down to the harbour and the smile filter onto her face when he showed her his boat. “This is my boat,” he murmured. “I spent all my money on it, every penny I owned to buy it, and it’s my life now. I spend more time on board it than I do in the cottage.”
Using a rope and considerable muscle strength, he swung himself on board then reached over the edge for her. “Put your foot on the landing board, then lift your arms up and I’ll do the rest.”
She did as he told her, and the next thing she knew, he’d lifted her clean over the edge and set her down on the deck. She wobbled a little into him at the feel of the unsteady floor beneath her and he grabbed her and held her upright with a smile. “Steady, now,” he said.
Her eyes shifted around the boat. It was a reasonable size, certainly much bigger than the dinghies Jonny sailed around Cardiff Bay, and though it was not new it was well-cared for. New paint shone from all the boards and the metal was bright and oiled. She saw the smile on his face as she looked and understood that this little ship was his pride and joy. “I haven’t let anyone else on board this boat except the harbour safety inspector,” he admitted, turning and releasing the mooring ropes one by one. “So, you could say that you’re the first, Rose Tyler.”
The sparkle in his eye was achingly familiar, but instead of feeling sorry for herself, Rose actually found a smile forming on her lips. “That’s quite a claim, Do… John…” she said.
He blinked at her slight slip, pausing for a tiny moment, then continued with his tasks. He took a Yale key out of his jeans pocket and used it to open the cabin door. Stepping inside, he flopped onto the chair and wheeled it backwards until it hit the wall with a hollow thump. “Seems to be in the air at the moment… claims, that is…” He grinned boyishly at her.
She studied him carefully, wondering just what his meaning was, but then he blew a breath out and beckoned her into the cabin with him. There was just the tiniest note of flirtation in his manner, an ease that there hadn’t been the night before; Rose found she liked it. She stepped towards him and looked at the expanse of dials and controls on the console, reminded of the loving but proprietary way the Doctor had always looked upon the ragbag nature of the TARDIS. “So,” he rolled the word around his mouth playfully. “How do you feel about being the first?”
Rose dragged her eyes up from the console and looked at him questioningly, smiling. “I don’t know… Kind of flattering, I suppose.”
He leaned forward and pulled a couple of switches down and the engine gunned beneath them, a low, throaty rumble. Rose jumped. “What? What are you doing?”
He flashed her a warm smile. “We’re going for a trip.”
The boat lurched beneath her and began to move, sliding out of the berth and out into the harbour. Rose felt a slight edge of fear at the thought that they were moving away from land, her old distaste for water rearing its ugly head. Smith turned the boat and pretty soon they were heading out towards open water, moving steadily.
Slowly, the horizon became the only thing within sight, a grey and unmoving line where sky met water in the far distance. After a while, Smith dropped the engines to a low thrum and leaned back in his seat. “There,” he said. “This is what I love.” He shifted past her and stepped onto the deck. Rose followed him, wanting to watch him.
He walked around to the bow of the ship, the wind whipping his hair, and stared out across the grey water, quiet once again. She joined him. His breathing was slow and soft and his eyes searched the depths, like he was reading the leaves of a book he knew well. He cleared his throat. “I’ve never really felt comfortable anywhere except here,” he said. “Land is stable, dull… uninteresting… Being out on the sea is unpredictable. The sea can be your friend, but it can also be your enemy. You trust it at your peril, but always respect it.”
“I’ve never liked the water,” she admitted.
He smiled. “I could tell.” Reaching down, he grasped her hand in his. “It’s something you either love or hate. If you love it, it will end up being a part of your soul. If you hate it, you will always struggle to understand its appeal.”
Rose found her thoughts turning to Jonny and his love of the ocean. She wondered if, somehow, he’d locked onto his father’s thoughts across all this distance and, unwittingly, they’d influenced each other. She was tempted to mention her son, but then decided against it. Things were just beginning to settle between them and a connection of sorts had been established. She didn’t want to destroy all that by reminding him of what he’d perceive as a responsibility.
She heard him sigh and felt his thumb rub in a small circle over hers. He lifted her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss that lasted a moment longer than it should have done onto her knuckles. “How about some lunch?” he asked as he released her.
She nodded dumbly, her eyes searching his. After a moment, he broke away from her and slipped into the cabin, reappearing a second later with the paper bag of goods he’d bought from the little café they’d stopped at on the way here. “Here,” he said. “I got her to wrap them in tin foil to keep them warm.”
“What are they?”
“Have a look,” he said and handed her the paper bag. She peered inside and found two small parcels of tin foil. Picking one up gingerly because of its heat, she peeled it open and laughed out loud.
Chips.
“I got them with lots of salt and a splash of vinegar. I hope you don’t mind?”
She shook her head incredulously. How was this happening? This man who claimed not to know who she was had bought her chips and even added salt and vinegar with apparently no knowledge of her preferences. She dug in and pulled out a long, perfectly cooked chip and bit into it, grinning. “It’s perfect,” she told him. “Absolutely perfect.”
He grinned back at her. He watched her eating for a moment, and then took some himself, looking back out to sea and falling silent again. They ate quietly, until the chips were nearly all gone, Rose’s mind turning over and over. It felt so odd to be in his company again; he had always been something of an enigma, who never revealed his whole self to anyone, but now she felt it more keenly than ever.
A glance at her watch told her it was nearing three o’clock. He caught her looking and smiled nervously. “You don’t have anywhere to be, do you?” he asked.
“No, no… I was just… You always had a way of making me forget the time, that’s all.”
The smile broadened. “That’s good,” he said, “because I was enjoying your company.”
She decided to change the subject. “It stays light here for a long while,” she observed after a moment’s silence.
“It does. It’s called the Simmer Dim… You see, we’re much nearer the North Pole here, so the hours of daylight during summer are longer. In June and July it never really gets completely dark. You can sit out on the ocean and watch the sun track along the horizon through the night. I do that sometimes… head out to sea just to watch that. It lets me think.”
Rose nodded. “If you want, I’ll take you out again at night and we can watch it. It’s truly beautiful on a clear night when you can see the stars and the sun in the same sky.”
His offer made her turn and look at him, surprised, and she smiled at the tentativeness in his eyes. He seemed suddenly like a little boy, daring himself to ask a girl to walk home with him. “Yeah,” she said. “That’d be nice.” And she reached for his hand again.
To be continued...
(and I also got Photoshop-happy this weekend and made some cover art for this fic, you can see it here, if you're interested!)
