The lips that lie
Title: The lips that lie.
Characters/Pairings: Nine/Rose Ten/Rose Ten/Jack (sort of) Ten/others
Spoilers: Very mild for Smith and Jones and Family of Blood.
Rating: er PG-13 I think
Disclaimer: Property of the BBC.
If a kiss means nothing to the Doctor. What means everything?
Very very Unbeta’d so please forgive. A small snip that I wanted to get out before the next episode, that may or may not be part of a follow up to Gift of Words. So please as always tell me what you think.
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“He kissed me as well, you know.” It’s a statement, a declaration to what she has just witnessed rather than a question, and Jack says nothing. His eyes tack her movement accessing her body language as he watches Martha move away from the shelter of the struts where she must have been hiding; where she must have seen what had just happened between the Doctor and himself.
His lips still tingle, echoing a violent numbness from the path that the Doctor’s lips had forged against his own only seconds before. The roof of his mouth still itching from the cool slide of the other mans’ tongue.
“I’ve seen him kiss other women as well. But you’re the first man.” She steps further into the control room, the light of the TARDIS flattering against the darkness of her skin. But the hurt that she is feeling is leaking through now, the confusing, and the desolation translated to body language; rippling through her voices’ pitch and tone. And somehow she seems even more naïve than Rose ever was.
Jack doesn’t want to deal with early twenty-first century concepts of sexuality. Just as he doesn’t want to explain to himself how he’s let go of his anger so quickly after one violent kiss, the bitterness leaching from him as he tasted the Doctor’s lips.
He wants to hide in the depth of the TARDIS, just as he knows the Doctor is doing. He aches to weep, to grieve again for the girl who both saved and destroyed their lives. The girl who is the reason why the Doctor had kissed him with such violent despair; the girl who is the reason why Jack refused the offer that the Doctor was so obviously making.
“He kissed me and he said it didn’t mean anything.” Jack wants to laugh at the truth of the Doctor’s words, but Martha sounds so lost and her statement is full of questions that he knows that she doesn’t dare to bring to the Doctor. And all Jack can think is; this child has no idea of the two creatures that she is traveling with; she’s no concept that she’s forcing her hand into wounds that can never really be healed, reaching for something that just isn’t there.
But maybe he can heal her wounds before they get too deep, maybe he can still her hand before all she finds is an empty space. So he tells her a facet of the truth, hoping that will ease her pain, and stem the questions that he knows that neither he nor the Doctor will ever be willing to answer.
He rests his hand on her shoulder and dips his head to meet her eyes. “And what you just saw didn’t mean anything either, Martha.” Jack almost sags with relief as he sees hope bloom in her eyes as he holds her gaze, a misguided understanding. Jack knows that this is the point that he should close his mouth. She just told him that the Doctor had already warned her but somehow the words, his own warning still leaks out “He’s not human, Martha. For all that he looks like he’s not human. Don’t forget that.”
Jack knows that again the warning has been useless as she roles her eyes. So he squeezes her shoulder when he really wants to shake her and slowly moves past her wanting to wrap himself in the depth of the TARDIS.
He’s stand at the threshold when her voice causes him to pause.
“Jack, how did he kiss Rose?” Her voice sure and strong as if she’s been repeating this question to herself for the longest of times. Jack turns and looks at her. But instead he sees this very room ringing with the sound of Glen Miller and their laughter as they danced around the consol He sees, blue and brown eyes twinkling, and full of smiles that held entire conversation across a crowded room. He sees two hands, one large rough and male, nails just a bit grimy from the oil of the TARDIS, the other smaller and female, with chipped nail varnish. These hands touching, reaching for each other palms sliding, fingers weaving, locking in a way more intimate than any sexual act he had ever partaken in.
And Jack knows that if he licks his lips he’ll taste the echo of Rose there. The taste that he now knows lives on the Doctor’s lips; telling him that she and Doctor fulfilled ever promise that he had seen in them so long ago. That they had become that and so much more. That was reason, the knowledge that drove him, that cause him to push the Doctor away. The secret of that fulfilment between the Doctor and Rose, and in his love for the both of them he’ll keep it.
So he tells Martha what everyone saw. What both of them let everyone see. His throat so tight in grief for what has been lost telling her the raw truth even thought he knows that she won’t understand it.
“He didn’t have to.”
And in his minds eye Jack watches Rose and the Doctor again and again hold each others hand.
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Well what do you think? And if anyone can think of a better title let me know
Characters/Pairings: Nine/Rose Ten/Rose Ten/Jack (sort of) Ten/others
Spoilers: Very mild for Smith and Jones and Family of Blood.
Rating: er PG-13 I think
Disclaimer: Property of the BBC.
If a kiss means nothing to the Doctor. What means everything?
Very very Unbeta’d so please forgive. A small snip that I wanted to get out before the next episode, that may or may not be part of a follow up to Gift of Words. So please as always tell me what you think.
QqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQq
“He kissed me as well, you know.” It’s a statement, a declaration to what she has just witnessed rather than a question, and Jack says nothing. His eyes tack her movement accessing her body language as he watches Martha move away from the shelter of the struts where she must have been hiding; where she must have seen what had just happened between the Doctor and himself.
His lips still tingle, echoing a violent numbness from the path that the Doctor’s lips had forged against his own only seconds before. The roof of his mouth still itching from the cool slide of the other mans’ tongue.
“I’ve seen him kiss other women as well. But you’re the first man.” She steps further into the control room, the light of the TARDIS flattering against the darkness of her skin. But the hurt that she is feeling is leaking through now, the confusing, and the desolation translated to body language; rippling through her voices’ pitch and tone. And somehow she seems even more naïve than Rose ever was.
Jack doesn’t want to deal with early twenty-first century concepts of sexuality. Just as he doesn’t want to explain to himself how he’s let go of his anger so quickly after one violent kiss, the bitterness leaching from him as he tasted the Doctor’s lips.
He wants to hide in the depth of the TARDIS, just as he knows the Doctor is doing. He aches to weep, to grieve again for the girl who both saved and destroyed their lives. The girl who is the reason why the Doctor had kissed him with such violent despair; the girl who is the reason why Jack refused the offer that the Doctor was so obviously making.
“He kissed me and he said it didn’t mean anything.” Jack wants to laugh at the truth of the Doctor’s words, but Martha sounds so lost and her statement is full of questions that he knows that she doesn’t dare to bring to the Doctor. And all Jack can think is; this child has no idea of the two creatures that she is traveling with; she’s no concept that she’s forcing her hand into wounds that can never really be healed, reaching for something that just isn’t there.
But maybe he can heal her wounds before they get too deep, maybe he can still her hand before all she finds is an empty space. So he tells her a facet of the truth, hoping that will ease her pain, and stem the questions that he knows that neither he nor the Doctor will ever be willing to answer.
He rests his hand on her shoulder and dips his head to meet her eyes. “And what you just saw didn’t mean anything either, Martha.” Jack almost sags with relief as he sees hope bloom in her eyes as he holds her gaze, a misguided understanding. Jack knows that this is the point that he should close his mouth. She just told him that the Doctor had already warned her but somehow the words, his own warning still leaks out “He’s not human, Martha. For all that he looks like he’s not human. Don’t forget that.”
Jack knows that again the warning has been useless as she roles her eyes. So he squeezes her shoulder when he really wants to shake her and slowly moves past her wanting to wrap himself in the depth of the TARDIS.
He’s stand at the threshold when her voice causes him to pause.
“Jack, how did he kiss Rose?” Her voice sure and strong as if she’s been repeating this question to herself for the longest of times. Jack turns and looks at her. But instead he sees this very room ringing with the sound of Glen Miller and their laughter as they danced around the consol He sees, blue and brown eyes twinkling, and full of smiles that held entire conversation across a crowded room. He sees two hands, one large rough and male, nails just a bit grimy from the oil of the TARDIS, the other smaller and female, with chipped nail varnish. These hands touching, reaching for each other palms sliding, fingers weaving, locking in a way more intimate than any sexual act he had ever partaken in.
And Jack knows that if he licks his lips he’ll taste the echo of Rose there. The taste that he now knows lives on the Doctor’s lips; telling him that she and Doctor fulfilled ever promise that he had seen in them so long ago. That they had become that and so much more. That was reason, the knowledge that drove him, that cause him to push the Doctor away. The secret of that fulfilment between the Doctor and Rose, and in his love for the both of them he’ll keep it.
So he tells Martha what everyone saw. What both of them let everyone see. His throat so tight in grief for what has been lost telling her the raw truth even thought he knows that she won’t understand it.
“He didn’t have to.”
And in his minds eye Jack watches Rose and the Doctor again and again hold each others hand.
QqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQqQq
Well what do you think? And if anyone can think of a better title let me know