FIC - Somewhere Out There Is Somebody - Jack/TARDIS - 1/3
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: At this point, PG-13? For language and suggested situations.
Characters/Pairings: Captain Jack Harkness/TARDIS, mentions of Jack/Nine, Jack/Ten, Jack/Ianto
Spoilers: DW Season 1, DW Season 3, Torchwood Season 1
Warnings: M/M and M/um…Sentient Being?
Length: 2800 words (so far!) 1/3
Disclaimer: Torchwood and Doctor Who belong to RTD and the BBC, unfortunately. This is a work of fiction and lest we forget Fiction = False, Fake, Not Real (and any of those other handy dandy synonyms found in Webster’s big book.)
Beta: Thanks to
luvinthe88and20 and shayasar for their help with this story! :)
A/N: This is an unusual foray for me, but the idea just jumped in my head and wouldn't leave. The more I write of it, the more it becomes something better than I ever imagined. LOL. Feedback is much appreciated as is con-crit. Thanks for reading!
Prologue:
I had felt pain, flowing over me in waves, pummeling my senses when I stumbled inside the doors. However, it was not my ache even though I had just been shot. Every ounce of my will had been mustered to fire that gun, but I knew I would only be destroying the vessel causing all that misery. I gladly did it.
Before I left, I promised we would be back. To take care of everything. I didn’t expect a ‘we’ to turn into a ‘me’ but it had. And as much as I would have enjoyed another certain immortal at my side, I kind of liked the fact that it was me that was able to do it, put things back on the mend.
Rose had harnessed her heart, but it had been the TARDIS who ultimately restored me. She, I never thought of her as anything but a female existence, had brought me life after I had given it up for the Doctor on the Game Station.
I guess it was only fitting that I give my friend hers back, now. I owed her that much.
What I didn’t expect was that I would find myself falling slowly in love. Again. I had been down this road before after all.
Before it had all been ripped away from me. Before I had been left behind.
Why now, after all this time, when my heart was slowly beginning to belong to another? When I had a team of my own counting on me, awaiting my return?
This isn’t fair. I wasn’t prepared for this.
Chapter One:
Warm water cascades down my back, turning the bottom of the large shower I am in dark with grime.
Fuck, does that feel good. My first shower in…well, in a year. Time has been reset for almost everyone, save the few of us at the heart of the storm aboard the Valiant. And after a year chained up in the bowels of the ship, my body is not a pretty sight. Well, it still is a pretty sight, just a rather dirt, sweat, grease, and filth covered one. Not to mention all of the blood trails littering my chest, neck and back.
But I don’t want to think about the reason for those. Even though the Master is dead, I am more than sure my nightmares will find me soon enough.
A warm presence fills my mind at the distressing thoughts starting to circulate, and I cling to it like a lifeline. I am not worried. I know I am safe.
With her. In her walls. Protected.
UNIT personnel had offered us quarters aboard the Valiant after all of the debriefing over the death of President Winters and the demise of the man calling himself Harold Saxon, the former Prime Minister of Britain, but both Martha and I didn’t hesitate to run straight for the TARDIS instead. Neither of us had seen the Doctor for quite some time, especially after the look on his face that told us both that he needed to be left alone for a while. I fully expected him to be in his TARDIS. Nevertheless, when we opened her doors, all we saw were the remnants of the Paradox Machine and her cannibalization at the hands of the Master.
I had promised her we would be back and I was greeted with a soft, gentle echo, barely a whisper, in my mind. A feeling of thanks for returning. She knew I was there to help.
“Hey there, girl. I told you I would be back,” I say tenderly stroking the railing leading up to the control console. It hurts so much to see the TARDIS in pain. The cage encompassing her center, still hangs raggedly in place. Sparks fly from where my bullets pierced the parts of her used to bring about the Master’s plan.
As bone tired and ragged as I am, wanting nothing more than a shower and some clean sheets, I can’t leave her like this.
Finding the spot in the floor grate that I know houses the tools I will need, I pull it up and set to work.
With the more I remove, the louder the feeling of contentment in my mind becomes. She is getting stronger. Her telepathic link to me is slowly re-growing. Not that I will ever hear words from her, mostly just feelings that are as verbal as any words could ever be.
And while I like the feel of her in my mind, it actually scares me as well. The last time I got this close to the Doctor and his TARDIS, I had my heart broken. First by a beautiful man in a black leather jacket who showed me how to be a better person--- that I was a better person. Then also by his wonderful spaceship that wound its way into every fiber of my being without me even realizing she had done so until she was gone.
Sure, I had spent years looking for the right kind of doctor. But I also spent those years looking for his ship too. Knowing someday I would find them. Knowing they had the answers I so desperately needed.
Never expecting that it was really the TARDIS who had saved me.
Wondering now if she did it through Rose out of love? An obligation of some kind? Maybe as a favor to the Doctor? A feeling of guilt for what she knew was to come?
Hopefully I will get my answers. More so than the ones the Doctor gave me on Malcassairo…when he told me I was wrong. That the TARDIS thought I was wrong.
None of this is my fault, damn it. I didn’t ask to be brought back. Never able to die.
The pulse in my senses is faint, feeling slightly like an apology but at the same time, I knew it wasn't one. She isn't sorry for what she did to me. I already know that. What I don't know is the 'why'?
Sighing, I stop the work I am doing to the TARDIS’s vector tracker and just sink to the floor resting my head and arms on my knees.
So many people came and went in my life after I was abandoned, some that I even loved, one that I might even be starting to fall in love with now, and it is those people who have helped me forget.
It is some of those people that my heart longs for right now. But I can’t force myself to go to them just yet. Even though I have forgiven them for what they did to bring me and Toshiko back from 1941 and their betrayal that brought about Abaddon, I still need answers here before I return to Torchwood. To my team.
Blasted emotions.
Knowing that I need to keep myself busy, or lose myself totally, I pick the spanner back up and return to work.
“Toshiko would be in awe of you,” I tell the TARDIS while tweaking her gravitic anomalyser. “She’d be right here beside me, wondering what every nook and cranny of you was for. You’d love her, even if she did take you apart piece by piece before she put you back together, probably better than before…but I am not sure I’d ever be able to get her to leave.”
And I need her. Gwen, Ianto, and yes, even Owen. I chuckle at the thought before I feel a questioning pulse.
“I was thinking of the rest of my team. Would you like me to tell you about them?”
A slight flicker of the lights to a brighter glow gives me the go ahead.
“I’m not too sure the Doctor would appreciate me telling you tales of Torchwood, since I don’t think he truly understands the organization that I have molded in his honor. We are nothing like what happened at Canary Wharf, I won’t…”
A wounded response reverberated through me at the mention of Torchwood One.
“I miss her too. She was something else,” I say as recollections of the amazing blonde-headed woman known as Rose Tyler flash across my brain. Oh, Rose. If only I had known. At least she is with her mum and Mickey. I’d hate to think of her all alone…
I can feel a slight nudge to my brain, encouraging me to continue my story, almost as if the TARDIS knows I need to keep talking lest lose myself to raw memories.
“Gwen is my newest recruit. Dear, sweet Gwen. She’s like my conscience, my moral compass. Sort of like you are his, even though he’ll never admit it.”
If the TARDIS could smile, I knew she would be doing so at my comment, as well as nodding her head in agreement.
“Then there’s Owen. He is such a brilliant doctor, but I seem to forget that at times because he has this hard, snarky exterior, pretending to be something he’s not. I’ve seen the real Owen Harper, and that man is amazing.”
Sliding under the console, I connected a few loose wires while thinking of my English medic and whether he really does understand how much I appreciate him and value his opinions and expertise.
In point of fact, lying on my back makes me think of…
“And lastly, is Ianto. Looks good in a suit. Looks good out of a suit, for that matter. Handles our Archives better than I ever could as paperwork is definitely not my forte, gets us where we need to go, and he makes the best damn cup of coffee I’ve had on any planet.”
Thoughts of Ianto give me pause, the feel of the young man’s lips against my own are one of the last positive memories I have of Torchwood. His beautiful smile and gorgeous Welsh vowels were images and sounds I clung to every day I spent chained as the Master’s ‘freak.’ When Saxon had bragged about the torture he had inflicted on my team, it damn near broke me. Actually, It would have broken me had I not pissed him off and he stabbed a busted broom handle into an already gaping wound to my chest, killing me yet again in his company.
I died more times than I could count. I had tried keeping track, but when it felt like I was spending more time dead than alive, I just gave up. It didn’t seem to matter after a while. Even though I knew the Doctor was still living, I wished I wasn’t on so many days. A brave façade plastered on my face each time Tish or another one of the Master’s appointed servants came to attend to me. Sort of like the galactic conman was back, fooling people into thinking I was this strong survivor, going to make it to the end and come out better on the other side.
But you did make it, Jack. You are alive. Torchwood is alive. The Doctor is alive.
The Master is dead.
And the Doctor who had finally found another of his kind, another Time Lord, is now alone again. Miserable. In complete and utter anguish. You saw him in those last moments on the bridge of the Valiant.
Yeah, don’t think I will be forgetting that image for a while.
“Jack?”
Looking up, I am drawn to the red-rimmed eyes of a man I still really don’t recognize even though deep inside I know it is the same man who saved me. I hold back a shudder at how he looks, even though I had just been thinking about it.
So lost. Broken. Defeated.
“She says thank you, Captain.”
My face fills with puzzlement.
“The TARDIS says she is grateful for all the work you have done, but she thinks you need to go rest now. And shower. Yes, definitely shower.”
“But I am not finished…”
“She’ll still be here after you have slept.”
Sleep is the last thing I want or need at this moment. Hell if I am going to sleep. Exactly. Hell. In my sleep. Demons dancing across my dreams, tangoing through the flames of the last year.
“She’ll watch over you. You need sleep; your body needs to heal.”
“My body is fine.”
“Yes, yes, I know. This is not the time for flirting though, Jack.”
Wait. I wasn’t flirting! Well, at least not intentionally. A soft hum just behind my ear, like a giggle, wafted over me. The TARDIS just laughed at me. Well, that cheeky girl.
“It’s your mind that needs to heal,” he continued, growing serious. “I know what you went through and well…I am sorry, Jack. I wish I could have prevented what he did to you.”
As scary as it is, I would do it again in a heartbeat. Anything to keep the people I love safe. Even those that consider me a fixed point.
“If you won’t do it for me, do it for her. You know how stubborn she can be.”
“He was right; you really are a stubborn ol’ gal.”
“Shit!” I scream, jumping back from the suddenly cold shower. “What did I say?”
Hurt emotions filter into my mind.
Think Jack. Think. Think. Think.
It is starting to get real damn cold in here. Think harder. Oops.
Stroking the cool surface of the shower wall, I purr, “I’m sorry. What I meant to say was: You really are a beautiful, smart gal.”
All seems to be forgiven as the water temperature returns to normal and I resume my former position, letting it run in rivulets down my back and chest.
“Thank you. I don’t much care for the shriveled look,” I say, letting my cheek fall against the tile in an embrace of sorts.
Lords, I could use a good massage right now.
No sooner has the thought crossed my mind and the water starts coming in small beats around me, pulsing against my skin.
When I feel that I am thoroughly clean, the water having turned clear a long time ago, I turn off the taps and step out into the bathroom proper. Lush navy blue towels, that had not been there when I entered the room, were lying on a bar on the wall.
“Reading my mind, like always,” I tease.
Swiping a towel off the bar, I run it quickly over my damp body and hair before dropping it unceremoniously on the floor and striding naked out into my quarters.
They haven’t changed since I was last onboard. My large four-poster bed still fills up most of the space along with various trinkets from planets and galaxies near and far. Books line a whole wall, and even though I told myself back then I was going to read all of them, I only made it through about a dozen. Maybe I can take a few with me this time when I leave.
A wave of impatience curls all over me.
“Alright, I get the hint. I’m beginning to think that you are just dying to get me into bed.”
Cool, clean sheets, with a thread count like soft butter greet my sore, tired frame. I need to get a set of these for the Hub, Ianto would love…
Irritation courses through my senses.
“Darlin’, I’m good, but I am not that good. Just can’t lie down, close my eyes and bam! In dreamland.”
You wouldn’t want to sleep if you were me anyways.
Comfort pulses surround me, closing themselves over me like a cocoon.
Okay, if I am going to be forced to sleep, I’m going to have to think of something positive.
Ianto. Naked in this bed with me. Using his mouth to…
Grinning, I sink lower into the bed. That works. Perfectly.
Exasperation. Annoyance.
Doesn’t seem to work with everyone though.
“If you insist that I fall asleep, you are going to have to give me a nice, happy bedtime story to do it by.”
Brightly colored images swirl into my mindseye. Three figures, laughing and dancing aboard the TARDIS, swing-style music coming from the walls. Bliss floating in the air.
Well, this works too.
But, if I didn’t know better, I thought, as I could feel myself falling into the arms of sleep, I think someone is a tad jealous.
Rating: At this point, PG-13? For language and suggested situations.
Characters/Pairings: Captain Jack Harkness/TARDIS, mentions of Jack/Nine, Jack/Ten, Jack/Ianto
Spoilers: DW Season 1, DW Season 3, Torchwood Season 1
Warnings: M/M and M/um…Sentient Being?
Length: 2800 words (so far!) 1/3
Disclaimer: Torchwood and Doctor Who belong to RTD and the BBC, unfortunately. This is a work of fiction and lest we forget Fiction = False, Fake, Not Real (and any of those other handy dandy synonyms found in Webster’s big book.)
Beta: Thanks to
luvinthe88and20 and shayasar for their help with this story! :)
A/N: This is an unusual foray for me, but the idea just jumped in my head and wouldn't leave. The more I write of it, the more it becomes something better than I ever imagined. LOL. Feedback is much appreciated as is con-crit. Thanks for reading!
Prologue:
I had felt pain, flowing over me in waves, pummeling my senses when I stumbled inside the doors. However, it was not my ache even though I had just been shot. Every ounce of my will had been mustered to fire that gun, but I knew I would only be destroying the vessel causing all that misery. I gladly did it.
Before I left, I promised we would be back. To take care of everything. I didn’t expect a ‘we’ to turn into a ‘me’ but it had. And as much as I would have enjoyed another certain immortal at my side, I kind of liked the fact that it was me that was able to do it, put things back on the mend.
Rose had harnessed her heart, but it had been the TARDIS who ultimately restored me. She, I never thought of her as anything but a female existence, had brought me life after I had given it up for the Doctor on the Game Station.
I guess it was only fitting that I give my friend hers back, now. I owed her that much.
What I didn’t expect was that I would find myself falling slowly in love. Again. I had been down this road before after all.
Before it had all been ripped away from me. Before I had been left behind.
Why now, after all this time, when my heart was slowly beginning to belong to another? When I had a team of my own counting on me, awaiting my return?
This isn’t fair. I wasn’t prepared for this.
Chapter One:
Warm water cascades down my back, turning the bottom of the large shower I am in dark with grime.
Fuck, does that feel good. My first shower in…well, in a year. Time has been reset for almost everyone, save the few of us at the heart of the storm aboard the Valiant. And after a year chained up in the bowels of the ship, my body is not a pretty sight. Well, it still is a pretty sight, just a rather dirt, sweat, grease, and filth covered one. Not to mention all of the blood trails littering my chest, neck and back.
But I don’t want to think about the reason for those. Even though the Master is dead, I am more than sure my nightmares will find me soon enough.
A warm presence fills my mind at the distressing thoughts starting to circulate, and I cling to it like a lifeline. I am not worried. I know I am safe.
With her. In her walls. Protected.
UNIT personnel had offered us quarters aboard the Valiant after all of the debriefing over the death of President Winters and the demise of the man calling himself Harold Saxon, the former Prime Minister of Britain, but both Martha and I didn’t hesitate to run straight for the TARDIS instead. Neither of us had seen the Doctor for quite some time, especially after the look on his face that told us both that he needed to be left alone for a while. I fully expected him to be in his TARDIS. Nevertheless, when we opened her doors, all we saw were the remnants of the Paradox Machine and her cannibalization at the hands of the Master.
I had promised her we would be back and I was greeted with a soft, gentle echo, barely a whisper, in my mind. A feeling of thanks for returning. She knew I was there to help.
“Hey there, girl. I told you I would be back,” I say tenderly stroking the railing leading up to the control console. It hurts so much to see the TARDIS in pain. The cage encompassing her center, still hangs raggedly in place. Sparks fly from where my bullets pierced the parts of her used to bring about the Master’s plan.
As bone tired and ragged as I am, wanting nothing more than a shower and some clean sheets, I can’t leave her like this.
Finding the spot in the floor grate that I know houses the tools I will need, I pull it up and set to work.
With the more I remove, the louder the feeling of contentment in my mind becomes. She is getting stronger. Her telepathic link to me is slowly re-growing. Not that I will ever hear words from her, mostly just feelings that are as verbal as any words could ever be.
And while I like the feel of her in my mind, it actually scares me as well. The last time I got this close to the Doctor and his TARDIS, I had my heart broken. First by a beautiful man in a black leather jacket who showed me how to be a better person--- that I was a better person. Then also by his wonderful spaceship that wound its way into every fiber of my being without me even realizing she had done so until she was gone.
Sure, I had spent years looking for the right kind of doctor. But I also spent those years looking for his ship too. Knowing someday I would find them. Knowing they had the answers I so desperately needed.
Never expecting that it was really the TARDIS who had saved me.
Wondering now if she did it through Rose out of love? An obligation of some kind? Maybe as a favor to the Doctor? A feeling of guilt for what she knew was to come?
Hopefully I will get my answers. More so than the ones the Doctor gave me on Malcassairo…when he told me I was wrong. That the TARDIS thought I was wrong.
None of this is my fault, damn it. I didn’t ask to be brought back. Never able to die.
The pulse in my senses is faint, feeling slightly like an apology but at the same time, I knew it wasn't one. She isn't sorry for what she did to me. I already know that. What I don't know is the 'why'?
Sighing, I stop the work I am doing to the TARDIS’s vector tracker and just sink to the floor resting my head and arms on my knees.
So many people came and went in my life after I was abandoned, some that I even loved, one that I might even be starting to fall in love with now, and it is those people who have helped me forget.
It is some of those people that my heart longs for right now. But I can’t force myself to go to them just yet. Even though I have forgiven them for what they did to bring me and Toshiko back from 1941 and their betrayal that brought about Abaddon, I still need answers here before I return to Torchwood. To my team.
Blasted emotions.
Knowing that I need to keep myself busy, or lose myself totally, I pick the spanner back up and return to work.
“Toshiko would be in awe of you,” I tell the TARDIS while tweaking her gravitic anomalyser. “She’d be right here beside me, wondering what every nook and cranny of you was for. You’d love her, even if she did take you apart piece by piece before she put you back together, probably better than before…but I am not sure I’d ever be able to get her to leave.”
And I need her. Gwen, Ianto, and yes, even Owen. I chuckle at the thought before I feel a questioning pulse.
“I was thinking of the rest of my team. Would you like me to tell you about them?”
A slight flicker of the lights to a brighter glow gives me the go ahead.
“I’m not too sure the Doctor would appreciate me telling you tales of Torchwood, since I don’t think he truly understands the organization that I have molded in his honor. We are nothing like what happened at Canary Wharf, I won’t…”
A wounded response reverberated through me at the mention of Torchwood One.
“I miss her too. She was something else,” I say as recollections of the amazing blonde-headed woman known as Rose Tyler flash across my brain. Oh, Rose. If only I had known. At least she is with her mum and Mickey. I’d hate to think of her all alone…
I can feel a slight nudge to my brain, encouraging me to continue my story, almost as if the TARDIS knows I need to keep talking lest lose myself to raw memories.
“Gwen is my newest recruit. Dear, sweet Gwen. She’s like my conscience, my moral compass. Sort of like you are his, even though he’ll never admit it.”
If the TARDIS could smile, I knew she would be doing so at my comment, as well as nodding her head in agreement.
“Then there’s Owen. He is such a brilliant doctor, but I seem to forget that at times because he has this hard, snarky exterior, pretending to be something he’s not. I’ve seen the real Owen Harper, and that man is amazing.”
Sliding under the console, I connected a few loose wires while thinking of my English medic and whether he really does understand how much I appreciate him and value his opinions and expertise.
In point of fact, lying on my back makes me think of…
“And lastly, is Ianto. Looks good in a suit. Looks good out of a suit, for that matter. Handles our Archives better than I ever could as paperwork is definitely not my forte, gets us where we need to go, and he makes the best damn cup of coffee I’ve had on any planet.”
Thoughts of Ianto give me pause, the feel of the young man’s lips against my own are one of the last positive memories I have of Torchwood. His beautiful smile and gorgeous Welsh vowels were images and sounds I clung to every day I spent chained as the Master’s ‘freak.’ When Saxon had bragged about the torture he had inflicted on my team, it damn near broke me. Actually, It would have broken me had I not pissed him off and he stabbed a busted broom handle into an already gaping wound to my chest, killing me yet again in his company.
I died more times than I could count. I had tried keeping track, but when it felt like I was spending more time dead than alive, I just gave up. It didn’t seem to matter after a while. Even though I knew the Doctor was still living, I wished I wasn’t on so many days. A brave façade plastered on my face each time Tish or another one of the Master’s appointed servants came to attend to me. Sort of like the galactic conman was back, fooling people into thinking I was this strong survivor, going to make it to the end and come out better on the other side.
But you did make it, Jack. You are alive. Torchwood is alive. The Doctor is alive.
The Master is dead.
And the Doctor who had finally found another of his kind, another Time Lord, is now alone again. Miserable. In complete and utter anguish. You saw him in those last moments on the bridge of the Valiant.
Yeah, don’t think I will be forgetting that image for a while.
“Jack?”
Looking up, I am drawn to the red-rimmed eyes of a man I still really don’t recognize even though deep inside I know it is the same man who saved me. I hold back a shudder at how he looks, even though I had just been thinking about it.
So lost. Broken. Defeated.
“She says thank you, Captain.”
My face fills with puzzlement.
“The TARDIS says she is grateful for all the work you have done, but she thinks you need to go rest now. And shower. Yes, definitely shower.”
“But I am not finished…”
“She’ll still be here after you have slept.”
Sleep is the last thing I want or need at this moment. Hell if I am going to sleep. Exactly. Hell. In my sleep. Demons dancing across my dreams, tangoing through the flames of the last year.
“She’ll watch over you. You need sleep; your body needs to heal.”
“My body is fine.”
“Yes, yes, I know. This is not the time for flirting though, Jack.”
Wait. I wasn’t flirting! Well, at least not intentionally. A soft hum just behind my ear, like a giggle, wafted over me. The TARDIS just laughed at me. Well, that cheeky girl.
“It’s your mind that needs to heal,” he continued, growing serious. “I know what you went through and well…I am sorry, Jack. I wish I could have prevented what he did to you.”
As scary as it is, I would do it again in a heartbeat. Anything to keep the people I love safe. Even those that consider me a fixed point.
“If you won’t do it for me, do it for her. You know how stubborn she can be.”
“He was right; you really are a stubborn ol’ gal.”
“Shit!” I scream, jumping back from the suddenly cold shower. “What did I say?”
Hurt emotions filter into my mind.
Think Jack. Think. Think. Think.
It is starting to get real damn cold in here. Think harder. Oops.
Stroking the cool surface of the shower wall, I purr, “I’m sorry. What I meant to say was: You really are a beautiful, smart gal.”
All seems to be forgiven as the water temperature returns to normal and I resume my former position, letting it run in rivulets down my back and chest.
“Thank you. I don’t much care for the shriveled look,” I say, letting my cheek fall against the tile in an embrace of sorts.
Lords, I could use a good massage right now.
No sooner has the thought crossed my mind and the water starts coming in small beats around me, pulsing against my skin.
When I feel that I am thoroughly clean, the water having turned clear a long time ago, I turn off the taps and step out into the bathroom proper. Lush navy blue towels, that had not been there when I entered the room, were lying on a bar on the wall.
“Reading my mind, like always,” I tease.
Swiping a towel off the bar, I run it quickly over my damp body and hair before dropping it unceremoniously on the floor and striding naked out into my quarters.
They haven’t changed since I was last onboard. My large four-poster bed still fills up most of the space along with various trinkets from planets and galaxies near and far. Books line a whole wall, and even though I told myself back then I was going to read all of them, I only made it through about a dozen. Maybe I can take a few with me this time when I leave.
A wave of impatience curls all over me.
“Alright, I get the hint. I’m beginning to think that you are just dying to get me into bed.”
Cool, clean sheets, with a thread count like soft butter greet my sore, tired frame. I need to get a set of these for the Hub, Ianto would love…
Irritation courses through my senses.
“Darlin’, I’m good, but I am not that good. Just can’t lie down, close my eyes and bam! In dreamland.”
You wouldn’t want to sleep if you were me anyways.
Comfort pulses surround me, closing themselves over me like a cocoon.
Okay, if I am going to be forced to sleep, I’m going to have to think of something positive.
Ianto. Naked in this bed with me. Using his mouth to…
Grinning, I sink lower into the bed. That works. Perfectly.
Exasperation. Annoyance.
Doesn’t seem to work with everyone though.
“If you insist that I fall asleep, you are going to have to give me a nice, happy bedtime story to do it by.”
Brightly colored images swirl into my mindseye. Three figures, laughing and dancing aboard the TARDIS, swing-style music coming from the walls. Bliss floating in the air.
Well, this works too.
But, if I didn’t know better, I thought, as I could feel myself falling into the arms of sleep, I think someone is a tad jealous.