Writing Meme
When you see this, post an excerpt from as many random works-in-progress as you can find lying around. Who knows? Maybe inspiration will burst forth and do something, um, inspiration-y.
Behold! Whofic.
1. In Human Hands, Chapter Ten
Rose/Nine, AU season one
“We could ride somewhere,” she says, asking him with a statement, looking at him as if expecting him to wander off, to get bored and irritable any moment now.
Not even a week since he’s gotten out of hospital - not even a week since he went in - and he knows he shouldn’t. He thinks to say yes, thinks of riding far and fast and getting them both some distance from this city.
He thinks of it.
“Nah,” he says, takes her hand, the one decision he never thinks about. “We’re fine here.”
2. Working Title of "Alarmclock"
Rose/Ten, AU season two
Her eyes go wide with realization and there’s an instant, a naïve and mad instant where he believes he might have gotten through to her. He hasn’t, of course. Her hands around his jerk away, her head moving away from his finger on her lips. Just as he thinks she’s going to bolt - he hates it when she bolts - she reaches for him, presses both hands to his chest.
This time, he can’t fight back the sigh.
Unbuttoning the shirt of his jimjams, he keeps his gaze locked with hers, calls her name softly when her eyes try to fall from his. Shirt open, he tries to take her hands, tries to guide them.
“They changed you back,” she says, numbly at first and then repeats it with growing anger. “They changed you back!”
3. Working Title of "The Infamous Crotchfic"
Jamie/Ten, AU season three (noticing a theme yet?)
“The way out is blocked below too, Doctor.”
“Why d’you think I pulled you up?” the older man asks rhetorically. “You’re just lucky I’d turned around to get to the access paneling - never would have been able to give you a hand otherwise.”
Jamie tries not to remark that certain other things wouldn’t have happened otherwise as well. Namely, his face against the Doctor’s crotch every time he needs to rest his neck. He remembers the Doctor turning around on the ladder, remembers the whir and light of a sonic screwdriver he still can’t call by that name. He remembers the access planning and some beeps and the Doctor muttering something and then it all tried to fall to pieces.
4. At Thirty Paces 'verse, working title of "Frisbee Fic"
Ten/Jack, Jack/Ianto, AU all the way, post Nothing Wrong.
“Come out and play,” the voice of a Time Lord invites through his earpiece, aforementioned Time Lord sounding unreasonably cheerful. Of course, before Jack’s morning coffee, everything sounded unreasonably cheerful. “We can spend the whole day together, you and me!”
He pauses.
He holds up a hand to forestall Gwen.
He presses two fingers against his earpiece.
“Say that again?” he asks.
5. At Thirty Paces 'verse, working title of "Hand Fic"
Ianto/Jack, Jack/Ten, AU, post Nothing Wrong, pre Frisbee Fic.
“He’s Jack’s doctor,” Gwen had told him.
“Jack was dead,” Ianto had blankly replied.
“He’s a very good doctor!” Jack had yelled down from above, watching them from behind the railing, leaning on it. Just like that, the conversation had been closed and the pair of them hustled back to their jobs.
That isn’t to say that the conversation is never reopened.
6. At Thirty Paces 'verse, working title of "Hair Alert"
Ten/Jack, John/Jack, AU, post Nothing Wrong.
“Hey,” he says.
Hart turns back to face him, eyebrows rising, something at once eager and sarcastic in his gaze. “Changed your mind?”
He chuckles and then deadpans. “Ah ha, no. Just a piece of advice.”
“Oh, let me guess: ‘don't come back here unless you want to be shot in the face’?”
“No, that’s a given,” he says and there’s a part of him that registers the way Ianto untenses ever so slightly behind him. “I was going to tell you that if a brown-coated man with memorable hair comes up to you while babbling? Run."
7. Of Love and Waffles, Chapter Seven
Nine/27!Rose, Ten/27!Rose, Nine/19!Rose, AU across seasons
She kisses him then, and she already knows it, knows this.
His mind presses at hers through a layer of self-restraint, through a psychic barrier of his own making. It reminds her of the texture of his teeth, almost felt and almost known behind closed lips. She returns pressure physically and the smell of him fills her, the wool and leather and engine oil and the faint tang of something alien.
It’s okay, she projects. Really, it is.
His reply is rough against her mind, as solid as the hands on her back. There are no words in it, no human feeling; it’s completely alien and utterly familiar, known in all the ways the pieces of his mind aren’t at all meant to mesh with the pieces of hers. They aren’t meant to but they do anyway.
8. Working title of "SemiAlt"
Sorta!Alt!Nine/Rose, post season two.
“Thought you’d want to... y’know.” Tommy restrains himself from gesturing awkwardly.
“See the sky?”
“Yeah.”
The leather jacket rises and falls with the shrug. “Could go outside for that, couldn’t I?”
“The loft had a skylight,” Tommy reminds him, not sure why he does.
“The loft was too small,” the man counters.
Tommy turns his head away, puts himself back into sweeping the floor with a quiet “Suppose so.” The thing was, the loft wasn’t too small, not for the two of them. Or maybe even the three of them. Or the four or six.
So many strays, Tommy thinks. How the hell does he find us all? And where the hell is he going to put us?
“Don’t need to look, really,” the man says suddenly. “Bit tired of looking at zeppelins.”
“Someday,” Tommy tells him, “you’re going to explain why you hate those things so much.”
“S’pose I will,” the Doctor answers. “Someday.”
9. Working title of series is "OT3"; working title of fic is "Rustbucket"
Ten/Rose, sorta!alt!Nine/Rose, sorta!alt!Nine/Rose/Ten, Donna, AU season four.
“Seems sorta... too easy, I s’pose,” she admits, leaning into him, hugging his arm, getting her fill of him as much as she can before things get bumpy again.
He rolls his eyes at her. “What, crossing the void in a ship of old car parts? Very easy, that.”
She swats him.
He grins.
“Behave,” she tells him sternly.
His reply isn’t promising. “Only if he does.”
“He’ll have to share too,” she reminds him, gives him that much.
“What?” he asks. “Should I ‘trust you on this’?”
She laughs and it’s like breathing again. “You’re heading for a smack, you are.”
They grin at each other, two people once again on the cusp of change. Survived it before, survive it again: that’s the plan. That’s always their plan.
He stoops and she tilts her face up. His palm presses into hers, cool and dry and callused. His free hand cups her cheek, a gesture as tender as it is possessive; her fingers grip a thick, leather lapel. Last chance, he whispers against her mind.
She squeezes his fingers. They’ll make this work. Somehow.
10. Working title of series "OT3"; working title of fic "Possession"
Sorta!alt!Nine/Rose/Ten, AU
The cracks in his other self’s control splinter further, spread, and he spurs himself on, feeds his desire and need and chaos into the other man, pulls at the other’s control. Let go, let go, let go, he urges, demands. Take it, he’s ordered in return. Just take it. The restraint breaks apart further, splinters without shattering, like a rip, like a rent, like a tear in the neck of a jumper too tight for wearing, too tight to get over his head.
The other shucks the mental jumper with only a flicker of hesitation, tears it off and flings it at him to wear. He pulls it on, breath hitching from the familiarity, from the piece of a mind he’d barely begun to know as his own before it was gone. Chaos builds on the bed as control builds in the chair and they begin to come together, the two opposite poles of a single magnet.
Rose is squirming, resisting, making him fight for it, holding off their union until it can truly be a union. Squirming and resisting and gasping their name, begging for them to be ready and with the heavy weight of a Time Lord’s reserve removed, his other self surges forward, wisps of thought falling into the air to melt on his tongue, heady and true and his in taste. Thoughts like Rose and mine and don’t let me hurt her.
Replies like yes and yes and never gonna happen.
11. Working title of series "OT3"; working title of fic is "Better than Fruit Loops"
Sorta!alt!Nine/Rose, Ten/Rose, Donna, AU.
AIM conversation in place of excerpt:
Rall: Also, insane scene idea.
Donna and Ten are already sitting down at a table in the galley, eating lunch or breakfast or whatever. Probably breakfast. Rose is at the counter, pouring herself a bowl of cereal.
Nine walks in, leather jacket somewhere else, and goes to Rose without a word. Rose turns her head, expecting a kiss, and winds up thrown over his shoulder.
She yelps. Loudly.
"Staying or joining?" Nine asks Ten so very reasonably as Rose hits him on the ass, having that part of him in range.
Vyc: *SNORT*
Rall: "I'm eating," says Ten, spoon in hand.
Donna chokes on her fruitloops.
"Right then," says Nine and carries Rose off.
"Give him hell!" Ten calls after them. He continues to eat breakfast.
Vyc: *gigglefit*
Rall: Donna stares at him. They have a discussion which is the meat of the fic. At the end, Nine comes in, sits down. He's wearing a different jumper. "She's in the shower."
Ten grins and pushes his fruitloops over to the other Time Lord. Off he goes. Nine smiles his smile at an incredulous Donna and digs into his breakfast.
Vyc: *cracks up* Brilliant.
Rall: Tag-team Time Lord shags.
Vyc: Rose is going to be living on caffeine and energy drinks. XD
Rall: Basically, yes.
12. Childsplay
Ten/Rose, mind!non!sex
“And you laugh when I touch you,” he counters. “Like it’s... like it’s supposed to be funny, contact. I touch you and you laugh. Why?”
He spreads his fingers, moves his hand and before his palm has made contact with her stomach, she’s writhing away in yet another fit of giggles. He’s reaching over her, so moving away from his hand is the same as moving into him, as bumping his knees with her back. She’s quickly trapped and fingers attack her stomach, gently, so gently as she laughs and snorts and giggles.
“Tell me,” he insists, smiling down at her.
“Can’t breathe!” she makes out, chortling and choking over her own words.
He frowns at her, so very superior. “Use your bypass.”
“Haven’t got one,” she answers after several attempts and he pulls his hand away. “Mouth and nose breathin’.”
He gapes at her. “You mean, all the time?"
13. The Clothes Make the Man
Ten/Rose, alien weirdness
He makes a noise in his throat, this delicious rumble that makes her want to press against him chest-to-chest. She nearly forgets herself, nearly forgets his hand around her wrist, his murmur against her lips. “I’m sorry,” he’d told her as he’d guided her hand away, pulled her fingers from his hair. “I’ll get better.”
“S’okay,” she’d barely dared to breathe, needing to pull him closer, having to leave him untouched. And he hadn’t stepped back.
14. Dreamdealers
Ten/Rose, one-sided Martha/Ten, season three
She laughs again and he laughs too, giving himself over to this moment, to this small, short moment of just them, just The-Doctor-And-Rose. They’re sitting on the roof where he told her - lied about - his age after being slapped by her mother, the roof where she called him gay.
He’s very much inclined to prove that wrong. Very, very much. But that was a life and a year ago and she probably doesn’t even remember making the comment. And if she doesn’t remember, there’s no real excuse for spontaneously snogging her.
It’s true that he’s starting to look for excuses, past starting. If this keeps up, he’ll have to start thinking about reasons instead. Best not. Not now, with the wind touching Rose’s hair and her hand contentedly fitting with his. A well made match, them.
Distantly, he hears someone calling for him, ignores it.
15. Everyone Lived 'verse; story title "Everyone Lived"
AU mid season two, Ten/Rose, Ten/Romana nth. A Gallifrey returns fic.
She tugged at Mickey's hand and he ran with her, his longer stride almost making up for his smaller share of endurance. “What’s he doing? What is this place?”
“I dunno!” she yelled without yelling. Whispered as loud and well as she could while running, as she could while permanently out of breath. It was like a church, this place. A great, huge church where everyone had stopped and fallen dead halfway through the funeral. “Don’t even know where he’s going.”
“He’d better know,” Mickey panted. “Don’t fancy getting lost in- what was that?”
She’d seen the burst of light but hadn’t caught its source. “Wha’?”
“That,” Mickey said and pointed.
As if on cue, a corpse burst into light, into brilliance, and the pair of humans skidded to a stop. It glowed and twisted and let out a great, satisfied groan, as if waking from a restful sleep.
One of them was going to break the other’s hand, if they kept holding on like that. Which one, it wasn’t certain.
“Oh my god,” one of them said.
“Oh my god,” the other agreed.
All along the street, by couples and trios and dozens, the slumbering bodies burst into light.
16. Everyone Lived 'Verse; Working title "Flower Girl"
Ten/Rose, Ten/Romana nth, Susan/David, AU
It's Susan's official wedding to David Campbell on Gallifrey.
"No, seriously. Why's she calling you her grandfather?"
17. Everyone Lived 'Verse: Working title "Birthright"
Susan/David, Ten/Rose, AU
Gallifreyans reproduce through the looms. At least those who don't have half (all right, a genetically manipulated 17.62%) human grandfathers do. Susan discovers an unexpected side effect of marital bliss and something must be done before xenophobic Gallifrey discovers the yet unborn child.
In other words, Jackie gets new neighbors.
18. Everyone Lived 'Verse; Working title "The Oncoming Baby Shower"
Crack add-on to the above.
19. Just assume the series keeps on going and that I'll never write half of it, 'kay? Oh, and that the Master comes back.
20. Working title "Granddad"
Ten, Susan, Donna; AU Season four. Susan has been found through a small window in time and retrieved from where One left her - a long time after the leaving.
“Yes, really,” she tells him, rolling her eyes at the alien twit who doesn't know what an age difference looks at. “I told you that she looks fifty.”
There’s a slight pause before he asks it, asks like he doesn’t know. “How old do I look?”
She opens her mouth to answer, to tell him that he looks around thirty-five or so, to tell him that he looks so much younger than this mysterious Susan, to tell him he couldn’t possibly be a grandfather, not him. She opens her mouth, but she also opens her eyes. Her eyes are open and his are old, impossibly old. Ancient and worried, like deep ocean water tired of stirring yet unable to stop its flow. He doesn’t look as old as he did the night she’d found him again, not quite that old, but it’s close.
“Old enough to be her great-granddad, actually,” Donna replies, as lightly as she can.
He gets offended and it ends with them laughing, but it’s not a moment she ever forgets.
21. Bet You Can't
Nine/Rose
“Hi,” says the pretty blond, shouting a bit into his ear to be heard. Pretty for a human, at least - she smells a little weird, but he’s hardly about to be picky.
“I’ve got a bet with my friend over there,” she continues, pointing across the crowded room. He follows the direction of her gaze and her gesturing hand, sees a figure leaning against the wall. “He says there’s no way I can make him shag me in this club.”
He raises his tuft, shows less irritation and more confusion. “And what do you want me to do about it?”
“Gimme a dance an’ I’ll buy you a drink?” She gives him a look after she says this and he imagines she might be trying to come off as endearing or small or something else supposedly mammalian.
For a moment, he considers the man across the room, another mammalian. It’s too crowded in here to smell him properly, but he’s easy to see when the lights don’t flash out in colours he can’t see. Tall one, that one. Bit flat in the head, too. The ears and nose, though, those are impressive. He can vaguely understand the blond’s interest in the fellow.
“I am thirsty,” he answers, bobbing his tuft low.
She grins.
22. Working title: Twisted Fic of Twisted
Implied Rose/Ten, post-season two, AUish.
When she turns around, she’s never gone anywhere. When she turns around, it’s still watching her.
She shouldn’t be panicking, she knows she shouldn’t be panicking, but she’s completely unnerved. It just sits there. Leaning forward with insistent eyes and a mouth forever on the verge of a smile that doesn’t exist, it sits there. Watching. With the face of a man she has never known to be sinister, it watches her. It waits.
And it remains perfectly, perfectly rational.
“Let me go,” she orders it for the thousandth time. “If you’ve been watchin’ me, you know what Torchwood could do to you. What they will do to you if you don’t do as I say.”
It’s as unconcerned as ever, infuriatingly calm. “Torchwood can’t find me. You try. You fail. Now I show myself.”
And just like that, she realizes what this thing is. She doesn’t know its species or name or even what it’s made of, but she knows what it’s done. “You’re what drove them insane,” she says. “The family in that house.”
“This house,” it corrects. “We’re still inside. You’re on the couch, by the way. The one with the paisley throw pillows. Your head is to the north, away from the windows, and Mickey is sitting next to you, on the chair from the desk, the one that creaks. It’s creaking a lot. He moves a lot for a seated man.”
23. Working title: "RSTen"
Ten/Rose, Pre-New Earth, sequel to "Same as Always"
It’s a quiet, cold night and traces of ash remain in the gutters, in the lines of the sidewalk beneath their feet. Her jacket is thick and her breath makes a trailing cloud of white as they walk back from the pub. Her hair is short, cut just today, and she didn’t tell him beforehand; he wants to complain but knows he has no right to talk. He thinks that might be why she did it.
They keep their hands in their pockets.
24. At the Time
Nine/Rose
“I want you, Doctor.”
The smile in his eyes brightens with a dark light and he says to her, his breath cool on her lips, “Don’t tell lies, Rose.”
25. Working title: Impossible Things
John Smith/Joan Redfern Smith, Ten/Joan Smith; AU season three.
He comes to bed in the middle of the night, his body cold and his voice strange. He slips in next to her and she turns away out of habit, expecting an arm around her waist, waiting to be pulled back against his chest and held through the night.
She turns.
He stills.
"...John?"
The man behind her doesn't respond.
...Yeah, that's a lot.
Behold! Whofic.
1. In Human Hands, Chapter Ten
Rose/Nine, AU season one
“We could ride somewhere,” she says, asking him with a statement, looking at him as if expecting him to wander off, to get bored and irritable any moment now.
Not even a week since he’s gotten out of hospital - not even a week since he went in - and he knows he shouldn’t. He thinks to say yes, thinks of riding far and fast and getting them both some distance from this city.
He thinks of it.
“Nah,” he says, takes her hand, the one decision he never thinks about. “We’re fine here.”
2. Working Title of "Alarmclock"
Rose/Ten, AU season two
Her eyes go wide with realization and there’s an instant, a naïve and mad instant where he believes he might have gotten through to her. He hasn’t, of course. Her hands around his jerk away, her head moving away from his finger on her lips. Just as he thinks she’s going to bolt - he hates it when she bolts - she reaches for him, presses both hands to his chest.
This time, he can’t fight back the sigh.
Unbuttoning the shirt of his jimjams, he keeps his gaze locked with hers, calls her name softly when her eyes try to fall from his. Shirt open, he tries to take her hands, tries to guide them.
“They changed you back,” she says, numbly at first and then repeats it with growing anger. “They changed you back!”
3. Working Title of "The Infamous Crotchfic"
Jamie/Ten, AU season three (noticing a theme yet?)
“The way out is blocked below too, Doctor.”
“Why d’you think I pulled you up?” the older man asks rhetorically. “You’re just lucky I’d turned around to get to the access paneling - never would have been able to give you a hand otherwise.”
Jamie tries not to remark that certain other things wouldn’t have happened otherwise as well. Namely, his face against the Doctor’s crotch every time he needs to rest his neck. He remembers the Doctor turning around on the ladder, remembers the whir and light of a sonic screwdriver he still can’t call by that name. He remembers the access planning and some beeps and the Doctor muttering something and then it all tried to fall to pieces.
4. At Thirty Paces 'verse, working title of "Frisbee Fic"
Ten/Jack, Jack/Ianto, AU all the way, post Nothing Wrong.
“Come out and play,” the voice of a Time Lord invites through his earpiece, aforementioned Time Lord sounding unreasonably cheerful. Of course, before Jack’s morning coffee, everything sounded unreasonably cheerful. “We can spend the whole day together, you and me!”
He pauses.
He holds up a hand to forestall Gwen.
He presses two fingers against his earpiece.
“Say that again?” he asks.
5. At Thirty Paces 'verse, working title of "Hand Fic"
Ianto/Jack, Jack/Ten, AU, post Nothing Wrong, pre Frisbee Fic.
“He’s Jack’s doctor,” Gwen had told him.
“Jack was dead,” Ianto had blankly replied.
“He’s a very good doctor!” Jack had yelled down from above, watching them from behind the railing, leaning on it. Just like that, the conversation had been closed and the pair of them hustled back to their jobs.
That isn’t to say that the conversation is never reopened.
6. At Thirty Paces 'verse, working title of "Hair Alert"
Ten/Jack, John/Jack, AU, post Nothing Wrong.
“Hey,” he says.
Hart turns back to face him, eyebrows rising, something at once eager and sarcastic in his gaze. “Changed your mind?”
He chuckles and then deadpans. “Ah ha, no. Just a piece of advice.”
“Oh, let me guess: ‘don't come back here unless you want to be shot in the face’?”
“No, that’s a given,” he says and there’s a part of him that registers the way Ianto untenses ever so slightly behind him. “I was going to tell you that if a brown-coated man with memorable hair comes up to you while babbling? Run."
7. Of Love and Waffles, Chapter Seven
Nine/27!Rose, Ten/27!Rose, Nine/19!Rose, AU across seasons
She kisses him then, and she already knows it, knows this.
His mind presses at hers through a layer of self-restraint, through a psychic barrier of his own making. It reminds her of the texture of his teeth, almost felt and almost known behind closed lips. She returns pressure physically and the smell of him fills her, the wool and leather and engine oil and the faint tang of something alien.
It’s okay, she projects. Really, it is.
His reply is rough against her mind, as solid as the hands on her back. There are no words in it, no human feeling; it’s completely alien and utterly familiar, known in all the ways the pieces of his mind aren’t at all meant to mesh with the pieces of hers. They aren’t meant to but they do anyway.
8. Working title of "SemiAlt"
Sorta!Alt!Nine/Rose, post season two.
“Thought you’d want to... y’know.” Tommy restrains himself from gesturing awkwardly.
“See the sky?”
“Yeah.”
The leather jacket rises and falls with the shrug. “Could go outside for that, couldn’t I?”
“The loft had a skylight,” Tommy reminds him, not sure why he does.
“The loft was too small,” the man counters.
Tommy turns his head away, puts himself back into sweeping the floor with a quiet “Suppose so.” The thing was, the loft wasn’t too small, not for the two of them. Or maybe even the three of them. Or the four or six.
So many strays, Tommy thinks. How the hell does he find us all? And where the hell is he going to put us?
“Don’t need to look, really,” the man says suddenly. “Bit tired of looking at zeppelins.”
“Someday,” Tommy tells him, “you’re going to explain why you hate those things so much.”
“S’pose I will,” the Doctor answers. “Someday.”
9. Working title of series is "OT3"; working title of fic is "Rustbucket"
Ten/Rose, sorta!alt!Nine/Rose, sorta!alt!Nine/Rose/Ten, Donna, AU season four.
“Seems sorta... too easy, I s’pose,” she admits, leaning into him, hugging his arm, getting her fill of him as much as she can before things get bumpy again.
He rolls his eyes at her. “What, crossing the void in a ship of old car parts? Very easy, that.”
She swats him.
He grins.
“Behave,” she tells him sternly.
His reply isn’t promising. “Only if he does.”
“He’ll have to share too,” she reminds him, gives him that much.
“What?” he asks. “Should I ‘trust you on this’?”
She laughs and it’s like breathing again. “You’re heading for a smack, you are.”
They grin at each other, two people once again on the cusp of change. Survived it before, survive it again: that’s the plan. That’s always their plan.
He stoops and she tilts her face up. His palm presses into hers, cool and dry and callused. His free hand cups her cheek, a gesture as tender as it is possessive; her fingers grip a thick, leather lapel. Last chance, he whispers against her mind.
She squeezes his fingers. They’ll make this work. Somehow.
10. Working title of series "OT3"; working title of fic "Possession"
Sorta!alt!Nine/Rose/Ten, AU
The cracks in his other self’s control splinter further, spread, and he spurs himself on, feeds his desire and need and chaos into the other man, pulls at the other’s control. Let go, let go, let go, he urges, demands. Take it, he’s ordered in return. Just take it. The restraint breaks apart further, splinters without shattering, like a rip, like a rent, like a tear in the neck of a jumper too tight for wearing, too tight to get over his head.
The other shucks the mental jumper with only a flicker of hesitation, tears it off and flings it at him to wear. He pulls it on, breath hitching from the familiarity, from the piece of a mind he’d barely begun to know as his own before it was gone. Chaos builds on the bed as control builds in the chair and they begin to come together, the two opposite poles of a single magnet.
Rose is squirming, resisting, making him fight for it, holding off their union until it can truly be a union. Squirming and resisting and gasping their name, begging for them to be ready and with the heavy weight of a Time Lord’s reserve removed, his other self surges forward, wisps of thought falling into the air to melt on his tongue, heady and true and his in taste. Thoughts like Rose and mine and don’t let me hurt her.
Replies like yes and yes and never gonna happen.
11. Working title of series "OT3"; working title of fic is "Better than Fruit Loops"
Sorta!alt!Nine/Rose, Ten/Rose, Donna, AU.
AIM conversation in place of excerpt:
Rall: Also, insane scene idea.
Donna and Ten are already sitting down at a table in the galley, eating lunch or breakfast or whatever. Probably breakfast. Rose is at the counter, pouring herself a bowl of cereal.
Nine walks in, leather jacket somewhere else, and goes to Rose without a word. Rose turns her head, expecting a kiss, and winds up thrown over his shoulder.
She yelps. Loudly.
"Staying or joining?" Nine asks Ten so very reasonably as Rose hits him on the ass, having that part of him in range.
Vyc: *SNORT*
Rall: "I'm eating," says Ten, spoon in hand.
Donna chokes on her fruitloops.
"Right then," says Nine and carries Rose off.
"Give him hell!" Ten calls after them. He continues to eat breakfast.
Vyc: *gigglefit*
Rall: Donna stares at him. They have a discussion which is the meat of the fic. At the end, Nine comes in, sits down. He's wearing a different jumper. "She's in the shower."
Ten grins and pushes his fruitloops over to the other Time Lord. Off he goes. Nine smiles his smile at an incredulous Donna and digs into his breakfast.
Vyc: *cracks up* Brilliant.
Rall: Tag-team Time Lord shags.
Vyc: Rose is going to be living on caffeine and energy drinks. XD
Rall: Basically, yes.
12. Childsplay
Ten/Rose, mind!non!sex
“And you laugh when I touch you,” he counters. “Like it’s... like it’s supposed to be funny, contact. I touch you and you laugh. Why?”
He spreads his fingers, moves his hand and before his palm has made contact with her stomach, she’s writhing away in yet another fit of giggles. He’s reaching over her, so moving away from his hand is the same as moving into him, as bumping his knees with her back. She’s quickly trapped and fingers attack her stomach, gently, so gently as she laughs and snorts and giggles.
“Tell me,” he insists, smiling down at her.
“Can’t breathe!” she makes out, chortling and choking over her own words.
He frowns at her, so very superior. “Use your bypass.”
“Haven’t got one,” she answers after several attempts and he pulls his hand away. “Mouth and nose breathin’.”
He gapes at her. “You mean, all the time?"
13. The Clothes Make the Man
Ten/Rose, alien weirdness
He makes a noise in his throat, this delicious rumble that makes her want to press against him chest-to-chest. She nearly forgets herself, nearly forgets his hand around her wrist, his murmur against her lips. “I’m sorry,” he’d told her as he’d guided her hand away, pulled her fingers from his hair. “I’ll get better.”
“S’okay,” she’d barely dared to breathe, needing to pull him closer, having to leave him untouched. And he hadn’t stepped back.
14. Dreamdealers
Ten/Rose, one-sided Martha/Ten, season three
She laughs again and he laughs too, giving himself over to this moment, to this small, short moment of just them, just The-Doctor-And-Rose. They’re sitting on the roof where he told her - lied about - his age after being slapped by her mother, the roof where she called him gay.
He’s very much inclined to prove that wrong. Very, very much. But that was a life and a year ago and she probably doesn’t even remember making the comment. And if she doesn’t remember, there’s no real excuse for spontaneously snogging her.
It’s true that he’s starting to look for excuses, past starting. If this keeps up, he’ll have to start thinking about reasons instead. Best not. Not now, with the wind touching Rose’s hair and her hand contentedly fitting with his. A well made match, them.
Distantly, he hears someone calling for him, ignores it.
15. Everyone Lived 'verse; story title "Everyone Lived"
AU mid season two, Ten/Rose, Ten/Romana nth. A Gallifrey returns fic.
She tugged at Mickey's hand and he ran with her, his longer stride almost making up for his smaller share of endurance. “What’s he doing? What is this place?”
“I dunno!” she yelled without yelling. Whispered as loud and well as she could while running, as she could while permanently out of breath. It was like a church, this place. A great, huge church where everyone had stopped and fallen dead halfway through the funeral. “Don’t even know where he’s going.”
“He’d better know,” Mickey panted. “Don’t fancy getting lost in- what was that?”
She’d seen the burst of light but hadn’t caught its source. “Wha’?”
“That,” Mickey said and pointed.
As if on cue, a corpse burst into light, into brilliance, and the pair of humans skidded to a stop. It glowed and twisted and let out a great, satisfied groan, as if waking from a restful sleep.
One of them was going to break the other’s hand, if they kept holding on like that. Which one, it wasn’t certain.
“Oh my god,” one of them said.
“Oh my god,” the other agreed.
All along the street, by couples and trios and dozens, the slumbering bodies burst into light.
16. Everyone Lived 'Verse; Working title "Flower Girl"
Ten/Rose, Ten/Romana nth, Susan/David, AU
It's Susan's official wedding to David Campbell on Gallifrey.
"No, seriously. Why's she calling you her grandfather?"
17. Everyone Lived 'Verse: Working title "Birthright"
Susan/David, Ten/Rose, AU
Gallifreyans reproduce through the looms. At least those who don't have half (all right, a genetically manipulated 17.62%) human grandfathers do. Susan discovers an unexpected side effect of marital bliss and something must be done before xenophobic Gallifrey discovers the yet unborn child.
In other words, Jackie gets new neighbors.
18. Everyone Lived 'Verse; Working title "The Oncoming Baby Shower"
Crack add-on to the above.
19. Just assume the series keeps on going and that I'll never write half of it, 'kay? Oh, and that the Master comes back.
20. Working title "Granddad"
Ten, Susan, Donna; AU Season four. Susan has been found through a small window in time and retrieved from where One left her - a long time after the leaving.
“Yes, really,” she tells him, rolling her eyes at the alien twit who doesn't know what an age difference looks at. “I told you that she looks fifty.”
There’s a slight pause before he asks it, asks like he doesn’t know. “How old do I look?”
She opens her mouth to answer, to tell him that he looks around thirty-five or so, to tell him that he looks so much younger than this mysterious Susan, to tell him he couldn’t possibly be a grandfather, not him. She opens her mouth, but she also opens her eyes. Her eyes are open and his are old, impossibly old. Ancient and worried, like deep ocean water tired of stirring yet unable to stop its flow. He doesn’t look as old as he did the night she’d found him again, not quite that old, but it’s close.
“Old enough to be her great-granddad, actually,” Donna replies, as lightly as she can.
He gets offended and it ends with them laughing, but it’s not a moment she ever forgets.
21. Bet You Can't
Nine/Rose
“Hi,” says the pretty blond, shouting a bit into his ear to be heard. Pretty for a human, at least - she smells a little weird, but he’s hardly about to be picky.
“I’ve got a bet with my friend over there,” she continues, pointing across the crowded room. He follows the direction of her gaze and her gesturing hand, sees a figure leaning against the wall. “He says there’s no way I can make him shag me in this club.”
He raises his tuft, shows less irritation and more confusion. “And what do you want me to do about it?”
“Gimme a dance an’ I’ll buy you a drink?” She gives him a look after she says this and he imagines she might be trying to come off as endearing or small or something else supposedly mammalian.
For a moment, he considers the man across the room, another mammalian. It’s too crowded in here to smell him properly, but he’s easy to see when the lights don’t flash out in colours he can’t see. Tall one, that one. Bit flat in the head, too. The ears and nose, though, those are impressive. He can vaguely understand the blond’s interest in the fellow.
“I am thirsty,” he answers, bobbing his tuft low.
She grins.
22. Working title: Twisted Fic of Twisted
Implied Rose/Ten, post-season two, AUish.
When she turns around, she’s never gone anywhere. When she turns around, it’s still watching her.
She shouldn’t be panicking, she knows she shouldn’t be panicking, but she’s completely unnerved. It just sits there. Leaning forward with insistent eyes and a mouth forever on the verge of a smile that doesn’t exist, it sits there. Watching. With the face of a man she has never known to be sinister, it watches her. It waits.
And it remains perfectly, perfectly rational.
“Let me go,” she orders it for the thousandth time. “If you’ve been watchin’ me, you know what Torchwood could do to you. What they will do to you if you don’t do as I say.”
It’s as unconcerned as ever, infuriatingly calm. “Torchwood can’t find me. You try. You fail. Now I show myself.”
And just like that, she realizes what this thing is. She doesn’t know its species or name or even what it’s made of, but she knows what it’s done. “You’re what drove them insane,” she says. “The family in that house.”
“This house,” it corrects. “We’re still inside. You’re on the couch, by the way. The one with the paisley throw pillows. Your head is to the north, away from the windows, and Mickey is sitting next to you, on the chair from the desk, the one that creaks. It’s creaking a lot. He moves a lot for a seated man.”
23. Working title: "RSTen"
Ten/Rose, Pre-New Earth, sequel to "Same as Always"
It’s a quiet, cold night and traces of ash remain in the gutters, in the lines of the sidewalk beneath their feet. Her jacket is thick and her breath makes a trailing cloud of white as they walk back from the pub. Her hair is short, cut just today, and she didn’t tell him beforehand; he wants to complain but knows he has no right to talk. He thinks that might be why she did it.
They keep their hands in their pockets.
24. At the Time
Nine/Rose
“I want you, Doctor.”
The smile in his eyes brightens with a dark light and he says to her, his breath cool on her lips, “Don’t tell lies, Rose.”
25. Working title: Impossible Things
John Smith/Joan Redfern Smith, Ten/Joan Smith; AU season three.
He comes to bed in the middle of the night, his body cold and his voice strange. He slips in next to her and she turns away out of habit, expecting an arm around her waist, waiting to be pulled back against his chest and held through the night.
She turns.
He stills.
"...John?"
The man behind her doesn't respond.
...Yeah, that's a lot.