(no subject)
Title: Sex on the Beach
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Donna Noble/Romana II
Rating: Hard R.
Disclaimer: Doctor Who and all its characters belong to the BBC.
Summary: Donna finds a mysterious blonde woman on the beach and winds up with more than she'd bargained for.
Author's Notes: Originally written as comment porn for shaggydogstail. Um, the title is a bit inaccurate, as there is no actual sex on the beach, as such, but I seem to associate Donna with alcoholic beverages for some reason.
Donna was just returning from an early-morning swim - or, to be more accurate, an early morning session of dabbling her feet in the pool while watching the very attractive and non-English-speaking pool boy clean the pool - when she saw a motionless body on the sand, curled around the trunk of a palm tree.
The young woman's blonde hair fanned out around her head, only a few shades darker than the sand. Donna knelt to take her pulse, cursing under her breath when there was no heartbeat to be found. Her skin was chilled, several degrees cooler than the air. Donna rolled her onto her back; she'd become CPR certified when one of her mates had talked her into taking the class with her so she wouldn't have to flirt with the lifeguard teaching the class by herself, but she'd not had to use the training till now. She hoped she still remembered how to do it.
A few chest compresses later, she felt something under her hands - but on the right side of the body, rather than the left. Still, it definitely felt like a heartbeat, and that was enough encouragement for Donna - and weren't there a few people born that way, with all their organs mirrored? It made more sense than the only other thing she could think of...
Donna bent to breathe into the woman's mouth, pressing her lips to hers. She exhaled slowly, counting off the beats in her head, and was startled when the woman pushed her off with a surprising amount of strength, gasping for breath.
"Are you all right?" Donna asked as the other woman looked around. "What happened to you?"
She reeled off a few angry-sounding sentences in a fluid language unlike anything Donna had ever heard, glaring fiercely at her.
"Sorry, I don't speak...Martian." Though Martian, the Doctor had told her, was actually a very guttural language.
She folded her arms over her chest, casting a very imperious look at Donna. "Where am I?" she demanded in crystal-clear English. "This is not the Citadel. And who are you, human?"
Bitchy woman...two heartbeats...oh, yes, this was a Time Lord. Well, Time Lady, Donna supposed. Except...there weren't supposed to be any left. The Doctor had been very clear on that fact.
Donna ignored her questions. "Who are you?" she retorted; no need to address her in a civil fashion if she couldn't bother to do the same.
She lifted her chin higher. "I am Romanadvoratrelundar, Lady President of the High Council, War Queen of the Nine Gallifreys, and Kithriarch of House Dvora."
Oh, wonderful, someone with titles. Donna wondered briefly if Gallifreyans followed the exploits of their nobility the way the British did - though, she imagined, their exploits probably weren't very...sordid. No Time Lady Camilla, for example. "Well, isn't that a mouthful?" She looked thoroughly unimpressed. "I don't care who you are, love, you're still naked on a beach in Spain, without a TARDIS to your name."
A TARDIS?" She looked taken aback for a moment, something that made Donna feel quite smug. She recovered quickly, though. "You must be one of the Doctor's pet humans, then. Where is he?"
"Oi, you're awfully demanding for someone who's just fallen through a hole in space and time." Or...something like that. It sounded impressive, at any rate; Donna had no idea what had really happened.
Donna stood up slowly, brushing the sand off her thighs and knees. "Now, look here, your Majesty. I don't know where the Doctor is, or how to get hold of him." She eyed her critically. "I might lend you some of my clothes if you ask nicely, not that you can actually fill them out properly. How old are you, anyway? Eighteen? Twenty? One of those rare inbred child queens, I imagine."
She glared prettily at Donna, looking all the world like a small child about to stamp her foot in frustration. "Six hundred and thirty-nine, and this is my second regeneration, I'll have you know." She sniffed derisively. "Since humans can't pronounce Time Lord names, you may call me Romana."
"Oh, I may call you Romana? Too kind of you." Donna started walking back to her room, assuming that Romana would follow her - and it wasn't any skin off her teeth if she didn't.
The Time Lady scrambled to her feet and caught up with Donna quickly, walking beside her, her back ramrod-straight.
"What if I want to call you something else?" Donna continued. "Like Fred. Romana's still an awfully long name, you know. And a little silly."
"It's not as silly as your name is - what is your name, anyway?"
Donna glanced at the other woman, an amused smile on her face. "Donna."
"Italian for woman? How very uncreative." Romana sniffed haughtily. The only sign that she was at all concerned about her nudity was that she had her arms folded over her breasts - not, Donna couldn't help but note, that there was a whole lot to cover there.
She swiped her keycard through the electronic lock, opening the door and letting Romana enter first. Romana immediately perched on the foot of the bed, looking around the small, drab room. "This isn't a very nice room," she remarked.
Donna rifled through her suitcase, pulling out a brightly patterned sundress and tossing it to Romana. "That's why I don't spend any time in it," she retorted. Well, except for when she picked up those well-tanned Spanish men after a pitcher or so of sangria, but who was looking at the room then?
"Humans are strange." Romana pulled the sundress over her head, standing up and twirling around. Donna had to admit, she didn't look too bad in it. The green made her blue eyes almost glow.
"Yeah, well, so're Time Lords." Although Romana seemed quite a bit more normal than the Doctor - just rather bitchy. "Where did you say you were, anyway? The citadel?"
Romana sobered immediately, sitting back down on the bed and clutching her temples. "The Citadel, on Gallifrey. Oh, God, they're all dead now, aren't they?" She paused for a moment, then continued slowly. "The Daleks were about to invade - their warships were in orbit around the planet. I gave the Doctor the Key of Rassilon so he could take the Eye of Harmony and use it to supernova our sun. I remember waiting in my rooms at the top of the tallest tower - that was the worst part, the endless waiting, knowing what was going to happen..."
"And then what?" Donna prompted her. She sat down next to the Time Lady, wrapping a comforting arm around her slim frame.
"...and then I was here." Romana looked up at Donna, wiping tears from her eyes. "Which shouldn't be possible." A sob caught in her throat. "I should be dead with the rest of them. It was my duty as President, to stay with the people of Gallifrey. But I'm here, and they aren't." She threw her arms around Donna, burying her face in her shoulder as she sobbed, her shoulders shaking.
"Hush, love." Oh, she'd seen the Doctor like this when he thought she wasn't looking. She couldn't even begin to imagine what it was like, to lose everything you'd ever known. Donna stroked Romana's hair, feeling remarkably useless. She was rubbish at comforting her mates when they were heartbroken; comforting someone who'd lost their planet was on an entirely different level.
Romana finally looked up again, her eyes still filled with tears. It was a heartbreaking look; gone was the haughty Lady President of Gallifrey Donna had met earlier, replaced by a lonely young Time Lady. Donna squeezed her impulsively.
"I promise I'll do whatever I can to help you find the Doctor, darling." And she meant it, even if it did mean cancelling the rest of her vacation - and, really, how many days of ogling bronzed cabana boys did one need? They all started to look the same after awhile.
She impulsively reached out and tipped Romana's chin up, leaning in and brushing a kiss against her lips. Now this, this was something different. Her lips were soft and tasted of an unfamiliar fruit, and they parted oh-so-willingly to allow her in. Donna deepened the kiss, pulling Romana down onto the bed with her.
When she finally pulled away, Romana was flushed and panting lightly. "I...um..." she stammered, her eyes wide; she looked so young that Donna couldn't help but think she was robbing the cradle.
"Yeah?" Donna asked, the corners of her lips quirking up into a sly smile as she ran a hand down Romana's side, ghosting over the curve of her hip and gently pulling the hem of the dress up.
"I've never done anything like this with a, well, woman before. Well, I've kissed girls - we used to play games, back in the Academy..." The mournful look entered Romana's eyes again; Donna promptly kissed her quite thoroughly, pinning her on her back as her hands roamed over Romana's lower stomach and thighs.
Romana sighed softly against Donna's lips, then moaned deep in her throat as Donna parted her legs gently to caress her with her fingertips. Her noises sent shivers of arousal down Donna's spine. Donna couldn't help but rub wantonly against Romana's thigh as she slipped a finger into her - and oh, God, she felt so wet and tight and good.
She heard a high-pitched humming noise as she added a second finger, but she was too busy concentrating on Romana to pay much attention to it; the Time Lady was writhing beneath her in a deliciously wanton fashion as she worked her fingers in and out and - was that the door clicking open?
Romana arched her back high, fisting her hands in the sheets as she cried out in the strange language again -
- And, at the same time, Donna heard an all-too-familiar voice call her name.
Donna ducked her head down to kiss Romana again, then glanced up, knowing perfectly well that she had to look like a cat caught with cream on its whiskers. "Hullo, Doctor," she purred, her voice husky with arousal.
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Donna Noble/Romana II
Rating: Hard R.
Disclaimer: Doctor Who and all its characters belong to the BBC.
Summary: Donna finds a mysterious blonde woman on the beach and winds up with more than she'd bargained for.
Author's Notes: Originally written as comment porn for shaggydogstail. Um, the title is a bit inaccurate, as there is no actual sex on the beach, as such, but I seem to associate Donna with alcoholic beverages for some reason.
Donna was just returning from an early-morning swim - or, to be more accurate, an early morning session of dabbling her feet in the pool while watching the very attractive and non-English-speaking pool boy clean the pool - when she saw a motionless body on the sand, curled around the trunk of a palm tree.
The young woman's blonde hair fanned out around her head, only a few shades darker than the sand. Donna knelt to take her pulse, cursing under her breath when there was no heartbeat to be found. Her skin was chilled, several degrees cooler than the air. Donna rolled her onto her back; she'd become CPR certified when one of her mates had talked her into taking the class with her so she wouldn't have to flirt with the lifeguard teaching the class by herself, but she'd not had to use the training till now. She hoped she still remembered how to do it.
A few chest compresses later, she felt something under her hands - but on the right side of the body, rather than the left. Still, it definitely felt like a heartbeat, and that was enough encouragement for Donna - and weren't there a few people born that way, with all their organs mirrored? It made more sense than the only other thing she could think of...
Donna bent to breathe into the woman's mouth, pressing her lips to hers. She exhaled slowly, counting off the beats in her head, and was startled when the woman pushed her off with a surprising amount of strength, gasping for breath.
"Are you all right?" Donna asked as the other woman looked around. "What happened to you?"
She reeled off a few angry-sounding sentences in a fluid language unlike anything Donna had ever heard, glaring fiercely at her.
"Sorry, I don't speak...Martian." Though Martian, the Doctor had told her, was actually a very guttural language.
She folded her arms over her chest, casting a very imperious look at Donna. "Where am I?" she demanded in crystal-clear English. "This is not the Citadel. And who are you, human?"
Bitchy woman...two heartbeats...oh, yes, this was a Time Lord. Well, Time Lady, Donna supposed. Except...there weren't supposed to be any left. The Doctor had been very clear on that fact.
Donna ignored her questions. "Who are you?" she retorted; no need to address her in a civil fashion if she couldn't bother to do the same.
She lifted her chin higher. "I am Romanadvoratrelundar, Lady President of the High Council, War Queen of the Nine Gallifreys, and Kithriarch of House Dvora."
Oh, wonderful, someone with titles. Donna wondered briefly if Gallifreyans followed the exploits of their nobility the way the British did - though, she imagined, their exploits probably weren't very...sordid. No Time Lady Camilla, for example. "Well, isn't that a mouthful?" She looked thoroughly unimpressed. "I don't care who you are, love, you're still naked on a beach in Spain, without a TARDIS to your name."
A TARDIS?" She looked taken aback for a moment, something that made Donna feel quite smug. She recovered quickly, though. "You must be one of the Doctor's pet humans, then. Where is he?"
"Oi, you're awfully demanding for someone who's just fallen through a hole in space and time." Or...something like that. It sounded impressive, at any rate; Donna had no idea what had really happened.
Donna stood up slowly, brushing the sand off her thighs and knees. "Now, look here, your Majesty. I don't know where the Doctor is, or how to get hold of him." She eyed her critically. "I might lend you some of my clothes if you ask nicely, not that you can actually fill them out properly. How old are you, anyway? Eighteen? Twenty? One of those rare inbred child queens, I imagine."
She glared prettily at Donna, looking all the world like a small child about to stamp her foot in frustration. "Six hundred and thirty-nine, and this is my second regeneration, I'll have you know." She sniffed derisively. "Since humans can't pronounce Time Lord names, you may call me Romana."
"Oh, I may call you Romana? Too kind of you." Donna started walking back to her room, assuming that Romana would follow her - and it wasn't any skin off her teeth if she didn't.
The Time Lady scrambled to her feet and caught up with Donna quickly, walking beside her, her back ramrod-straight.
"What if I want to call you something else?" Donna continued. "Like Fred. Romana's still an awfully long name, you know. And a little silly."
"It's not as silly as your name is - what is your name, anyway?"
Donna glanced at the other woman, an amused smile on her face. "Donna."
"Italian for woman? How very uncreative." Romana sniffed haughtily. The only sign that she was at all concerned about her nudity was that she had her arms folded over her breasts - not, Donna couldn't help but note, that there was a whole lot to cover there.
She swiped her keycard through the electronic lock, opening the door and letting Romana enter first. Romana immediately perched on the foot of the bed, looking around the small, drab room. "This isn't a very nice room," she remarked.
Donna rifled through her suitcase, pulling out a brightly patterned sundress and tossing it to Romana. "That's why I don't spend any time in it," she retorted. Well, except for when she picked up those well-tanned Spanish men after a pitcher or so of sangria, but who was looking at the room then?
"Humans are strange." Romana pulled the sundress over her head, standing up and twirling around. Donna had to admit, she didn't look too bad in it. The green made her blue eyes almost glow.
"Yeah, well, so're Time Lords." Although Romana seemed quite a bit more normal than the Doctor - just rather bitchy. "Where did you say you were, anyway? The citadel?"
Romana sobered immediately, sitting back down on the bed and clutching her temples. "The Citadel, on Gallifrey. Oh, God, they're all dead now, aren't they?" She paused for a moment, then continued slowly. "The Daleks were about to invade - their warships were in orbit around the planet. I gave the Doctor the Key of Rassilon so he could take the Eye of Harmony and use it to supernova our sun. I remember waiting in my rooms at the top of the tallest tower - that was the worst part, the endless waiting, knowing what was going to happen..."
"And then what?" Donna prompted her. She sat down next to the Time Lady, wrapping a comforting arm around her slim frame.
"...and then I was here." Romana looked up at Donna, wiping tears from her eyes. "Which shouldn't be possible." A sob caught in her throat. "I should be dead with the rest of them. It was my duty as President, to stay with the people of Gallifrey. But I'm here, and they aren't." She threw her arms around Donna, burying her face in her shoulder as she sobbed, her shoulders shaking.
"Hush, love." Oh, she'd seen the Doctor like this when he thought she wasn't looking. She couldn't even begin to imagine what it was like, to lose everything you'd ever known. Donna stroked Romana's hair, feeling remarkably useless. She was rubbish at comforting her mates when they were heartbroken; comforting someone who'd lost their planet was on an entirely different level.
Romana finally looked up again, her eyes still filled with tears. It was a heartbreaking look; gone was the haughty Lady President of Gallifrey Donna had met earlier, replaced by a lonely young Time Lady. Donna squeezed her impulsively.
"I promise I'll do whatever I can to help you find the Doctor, darling." And she meant it, even if it did mean cancelling the rest of her vacation - and, really, how many days of ogling bronzed cabana boys did one need? They all started to look the same after awhile.
She impulsively reached out and tipped Romana's chin up, leaning in and brushing a kiss against her lips. Now this, this was something different. Her lips were soft and tasted of an unfamiliar fruit, and they parted oh-so-willingly to allow her in. Donna deepened the kiss, pulling Romana down onto the bed with her.
When she finally pulled away, Romana was flushed and panting lightly. "I...um..." she stammered, her eyes wide; she looked so young that Donna couldn't help but think she was robbing the cradle.
"Yeah?" Donna asked, the corners of her lips quirking up into a sly smile as she ran a hand down Romana's side, ghosting over the curve of her hip and gently pulling the hem of the dress up.
"I've never done anything like this with a, well, woman before. Well, I've kissed girls - we used to play games, back in the Academy..." The mournful look entered Romana's eyes again; Donna promptly kissed her quite thoroughly, pinning her on her back as her hands roamed over Romana's lower stomach and thighs.
Romana sighed softly against Donna's lips, then moaned deep in her throat as Donna parted her legs gently to caress her with her fingertips. Her noises sent shivers of arousal down Donna's spine. Donna couldn't help but rub wantonly against Romana's thigh as she slipped a finger into her - and oh, God, she felt so wet and tight and good.
She heard a high-pitched humming noise as she added a second finger, but she was too busy concentrating on Romana to pay much attention to it; the Time Lady was writhing beneath her in a deliciously wanton fashion as she worked her fingers in and out and - was that the door clicking open?
Romana arched her back high, fisting her hands in the sheets as she cried out in the strange language again -
- And, at the same time, Donna heard an all-too-familiar voice call her name.
Donna ducked her head down to kiss Romana again, then glanced up, knowing perfectly well that she had to look like a cat caught with cream on its whiskers. "Hullo, Doctor," she purred, her voice husky with arousal.