Malleable: A Word of the Day Fic - PG Rated (for double entendres only) Jack/Rose
malleable \MAL-ee-uh-buhl\, adjective:
1. Capable of being extended or shaped by beating with a hammer, or by the pressure of rollers; -- applied to metals.
2. Capable of being altered or controlled by outside forces; easily influenced.
3. Capable of adjusting to changing circumstances; adaptable.
Author’s Note: PLEASE don’t ask me where this lunacy came from…
“So Jack, how flexible is ‘flexible?”
They were sitting in one of Jack’s favourite Tardis rooms: at least of the rooms he had discovered so far. A perfect reproduction of a late Twentieth Century video arcade. He knew it was horribly old fashioned of him, but as he often noted, he could be an old fashioned guy. It really was authentic: down to the dim lighting, black painted walls and slightly mucky carpet. And to think, if it hadn’t been for that lovely group of cyberpunks he had met in the 1980’s he would never have discovered how much fun those dark corners could be…
He sat back in the moulded plastic chair of the space-simulator he had just been playing and looked over at Rose; all fake innocence as she knelt over the competitor’s seat, chin resting on her hands and eyebrows quirked in mischief. He smiled as he considered the question, idly thumbing the firing control on the joystick between his legs which had absolutely no symbolism whatsoever…
“Well,” he began slowly, looking at Rose with mischief in his eye as he let his American accent drawl the syllables out lazily and luxuriously, “flexible can mean many things. It could mean that I’m easily lead astray, or that I don’t let any good opportunity pass me by, or,” he suddenly swung his leg over the joystick and leant forward so he and Rose were just a breath apart, “it could mean that I’m just very adaptable.”
Rose was enjoying the game. She leant forward a little more. “Adaptable to what?” She couldn’t resist it. She loved this game far better than the blocky, bleepy videogames that had been mostly redundant before she had been born.
Jack winked and Rose saw his pupils contract, just slightly. “Adaptable to whatever pleasures come my way.”
Rose couldn’t help but roll her eyes. She leant forward yet closer until they were only separated by the length of their lips. “Then let me introduce you to the absolute, decadent pleasure of …” She ducked her head around and whispered in his ear. As she leaned back she couldn’t resist adding: “the Doctor said he wasn’t interested, and you know, you can dress up for this.”
She couldn’t be sure in the dim, flashing lights of the arcade, but she would have wagered the Doctor an entire month of washing-up duty that Jack actually blushed. She was proud that he quickly recovered, but was still secretly delighted that she’d actually managed to shake him.
Jack smiled and leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. “Why not, sweetheart? After all, I was obviously born for it, and you only live once.” He stood and held out his hand which she gladly took. He indicated the exit, thoughtfully labelled with a neon ‘exit’ sign, with a theatrical gesture.
They left the room, clasped hands swinging as Jack’s voice announced in a booming voice:
”Bring on the Captain Jack…Sparrow movie marathon!”
1. Capable of being extended or shaped by beating with a hammer, or by the pressure of rollers; -- applied to metals.
2. Capable of being altered or controlled by outside forces; easily influenced.
3. Capable of adjusting to changing circumstances; adaptable.
Author’s Note: PLEASE don’t ask me where this lunacy came from…
“So Jack, how flexible is ‘flexible?”
They were sitting in one of Jack’s favourite Tardis rooms: at least of the rooms he had discovered so far. A perfect reproduction of a late Twentieth Century video arcade. He knew it was horribly old fashioned of him, but as he often noted, he could be an old fashioned guy. It really was authentic: down to the dim lighting, black painted walls and slightly mucky carpet. And to think, if it hadn’t been for that lovely group of cyberpunks he had met in the 1980’s he would never have discovered how much fun those dark corners could be…
He sat back in the moulded plastic chair of the space-simulator he had just been playing and looked over at Rose; all fake innocence as she knelt over the competitor’s seat, chin resting on her hands and eyebrows quirked in mischief. He smiled as he considered the question, idly thumbing the firing control on the joystick between his legs which had absolutely no symbolism whatsoever…
“Well,” he began slowly, looking at Rose with mischief in his eye as he let his American accent drawl the syllables out lazily and luxuriously, “flexible can mean many things. It could mean that I’m easily lead astray, or that I don’t let any good opportunity pass me by, or,” he suddenly swung his leg over the joystick and leant forward so he and Rose were just a breath apart, “it could mean that I’m just very adaptable.”
Rose was enjoying the game. She leant forward a little more. “Adaptable to what?” She couldn’t resist it. She loved this game far better than the blocky, bleepy videogames that had been mostly redundant before she had been born.
Jack winked and Rose saw his pupils contract, just slightly. “Adaptable to whatever pleasures come my way.”
Rose couldn’t help but roll her eyes. She leant forward yet closer until they were only separated by the length of their lips. “Then let me introduce you to the absolute, decadent pleasure of …” She ducked her head around and whispered in his ear. As she leaned back she couldn’t resist adding: “the Doctor said he wasn’t interested, and you know, you can dress up for this.”
She couldn’t be sure in the dim, flashing lights of the arcade, but she would have wagered the Doctor an entire month of washing-up duty that Jack actually blushed. She was proud that he quickly recovered, but was still secretly delighted that she’d actually managed to shake him.
Jack smiled and leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. “Why not, sweetheart? After all, I was obviously born for it, and you only live once.” He stood and held out his hand which she gladly took. He indicated the exit, thoughtfully labelled with a neon ‘exit’ sign, with a theatrical gesture.
They left the room, clasped hands swinging as Jack’s voice announced in a booming voice:
”Bring on the Captain Jack…Sparrow movie marathon!”