It's a meme!
Last night, I was sitting here, feeling bored and wanting a meme, (yeah, sad, I know, sorry, I'm saner this morning) and probably a few minutes after I switched off my computer, jjpor came up with one from someone. So, in the interests of silliness and and all that, I must pass it on:
Name three fics you think I will never, ever, ever write. In return ( Read more... )
Name three fics you think I will never, ever, ever write. In return ( Read more... )
But Ten/Martha? I've not really had the occasion or been bitten by a plot bunny, but I can write that. That's canon. Happened on screen and everything. Just don't expect much romance or details.
***
“Martha.”
She turned, about to head back to her notes. “What now?”
The Doctor coughed and played with the back of his shirt collar. “Well, Miss Jones -.”
“That’s Dr Jones now, you know.”
“Yeah.”
“Well?”
“What?”
She shook her head. “You were trying to say things. You don’t normally have problems talking.”
“Yeah, well. I was only meaning to say that there might be some things I might… regret. You know, just possibly.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Okay, Doctor. Care to narrow that down?”
“You remember when we first met?”
Martha rolled her eyes. “Nah. Slipped my memory, ‘cos Judoon on the moon and upside rain - happens every day.”
“No, not that.”
She folded her arms. “Doctor, can we not play twenty questions?”
“Okay, well, I just suddenly thought maybe it was a bit of a waste not to have - well - done this a bit more often.”
She was about to ask what, her impatience growing, when he demonstrated with a repeat of a kiss that was indeed one of the things she had never quite forgotten about that day. That was nothing? She thrilled inwardly, this being another small victory. Apparently, it wasn’t nothing.
He released her and patted her on her arm. “Well, yes, that. You didn’t mind, did you?”
“No,” she told him. “It was pretty good as kisses go, Doctor. But this is typical of you!”
“How?”
“You wait until I’m engaged!”
***
Happy now? ;-D
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And, yes, your oppression knows no bounds.
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Anyone would think I'd cornered the market!
And, yes, your oppression knows no bounds.
It's true - there are no bounds... :P
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... And soooo Ten/ Martha it's exasperating.
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(Ahem, please don't ever write Harry/Ruth porn. Ever. Thanks.)
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And, don't worry - Harry/Ruth porn is only holding hands on the bus and longing gazes, isn't it?
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