fic request for hp_chloe 1/2
Fic written for
hp_chloe who requested: "a Rose/Donna drabble" in my fic request meme. The first of two, because a) she's lovely and b) she gave me a choice, and of course, I want to do both. :D
Title: Alone Time
Author: the_willows
Rating: General
Disclaimer: They belong to Aunti Beeb, not I.
Rose picked up the hairbrush in her right hand, the left one reaching over Donna's left shoulder, gently passing under the lock of auburn hair to lift it from her neck. She moved her right hand so that the hairbrush gently connected with Donna's head, running it slowly and smoothly through the thick, shiny mass in her hand.
Donna sat on the floor, Rose on the low chair in the corner of Donna's room, her legs parted, Donna leaning back between her thighs, her arm resting on Rose's right knee.
Again and again Rose carefully ran the brush through the flame-coloured tresses, slowly, almost reverently, one hand working the brush and the other sweeping up sections of the soft hair needing to be tamed.
Eyes closed, and smiling serenely, Donna's head bobbed forward as Rose worked the brush, pulling against her rythmically with each stroke. Rose wore a mask of pure concentration as she worked her way from left to right, leaving a smooth, shining curtain of fire in her wake.
Finally she was finished, and leant over Dona's shoulder, placing the brush in her hand, bringing her other arm forward to embrace her, Donna reaching up to clasp Rose's hands with her own. They sat there for a moment, heads together, gold on copper, before releasing each other and swapping places.
The Doctor crept away from the crack in door, envious of this intimacy that he could never share.
hp_chloe who requested: "a Rose/Donna drabble" in my fic request meme. The first of two, because a) she's lovely and b) she gave me a choice, and of course, I want to do both. :D
Title: Alone Time
Author: the_willows
Rating: General
Disclaimer: They belong to Aunti Beeb, not I.
Rose picked up the hairbrush in her right hand, the left one reaching over Donna's left shoulder, gently passing under the lock of auburn hair to lift it from her neck. She moved her right hand so that the hairbrush gently connected with Donna's head, running it slowly and smoothly through the thick, shiny mass in her hand.
Donna sat on the floor, Rose on the low chair in the corner of Donna's room, her legs parted, Donna leaning back between her thighs, her arm resting on Rose's right knee.
Again and again Rose carefully ran the brush through the flame-coloured tresses, slowly, almost reverently, one hand working the brush and the other sweeping up sections of the soft hair needing to be tamed.
Eyes closed, and smiling serenely, Donna's head bobbed forward as Rose worked the brush, pulling against her rythmically with each stroke. Rose wore a mask of pure concentration as she worked her way from left to right, leaving a smooth, shining curtain of fire in her wake.
Finally she was finished, and leant over Dona's shoulder, placing the brush in her hand, bringing her other arm forward to embrace her, Donna reaching up to clasp Rose's hands with her own. They sat there for a moment, heads together, gold on copper, before releasing each other and swapping places.
The Doctor crept away from the crack in door, envious of this intimacy that he could never share.