mind_the_muse: Ten Ways You Say I Love You
Warnings: 'S' for Doctor/Ace shippiness, and spoilers for the Big Finish Audios "Fearmonger," "Live 34" and "Dark Husband."
10. Because he could not, and would not apologize, because the sorrow and doubt in her eyes was torment to look upon, he confessed, “I'd've done anything not to have hurt you.”
09. As he so often did, the Doctor's preceding question might have led anyone else to believe he was chiding Ace for her actions. But the Doctor was actually overwhelmed with pride, and he conveyed as much when he happily chimed, “That's my girl!”
08. When he turned around, intent on probing Ace further on the nature of the presence she'd sensed in this house so long ago, the Doctor stopped abruptly at the sight of his friend sleeping peacefully. Still in her tuxedo, an abrupt departure from accepted fashion for a Victorian lady, the Doctor couldn't help but smile fondly down at her. A tumult of emotions flickered through him in that instant: protectiveness, pride, even...adoration. Gingerly, he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, pulling away just as quickly.
07. Though he had gently admonished Ace for the possible adverse effect she could have wrought on the timeline by allowing people, living decades before she'd ever been born, to see her tape deck, the Doctor internally knew how much she enjoyed it. Further, the idea that he could surprise and please her at the same time incited the Doctor into reconstructing a new tape deck for Ace, one with enhancements he thought she might appreciate.
06. The overwhelming, rare feeling of such intense anger had begun to lose its fierce grip on his mind as the Doctor searched desperately for signs of life in the rubble. A quick, nearly silent breath of relief passed from his lips as he heard Ace's voice. Knowing she was safe, at last, a greater sense of urgency began to supplant his preceding feelings of worry, as he knew that there was still a wealth of trouble to contend with. But Ace's attempt to explain why Morgaine had acquired the sword pulled the Doctor briefly away from his assessment of the bigger picture, and he stifled any rumination on the reason his hearts were still turning over as he looked at her, beautifully alive. “Exotic aliens swords are easy to come by. Aces are rare.”
05. The dubious look in Ace's eyes was a familiar one; she was uncertain about his plan, worried over the outcome, and quietly seeking a modicum of assurance she would doubtless never explicitly ask for. Though he would equally never admit how damning such a look was to the tender part of his hearts, he could not walk away from her now without assuaging some of that turmoil brimming in her eyes, her eyes that were so decipherable to him. So he turned slightly, smiling warmly as he gently tapped the tip of her nose. The touch lingered for a mere second, but he communicated absolutes most effectively in these moments, when he waited to blink, to breathe, until she smiled back at him.
04. She kissed him, and he felt time then, as he hadn't for years. The seconds ticking by were as days between them, and he counted the pauses between his heartbeats, searching for the sound of hers, the metronome by which he could steady his frenetic thoughts. He was supposed to say something, wasn't he? It had been untold years since he'd seen such a kiss between any two people, and he clung tightly to any memory he could find, hoping it would banish his uncertainty. “I...” The Doctor paused, and another day passed, it seemed, until he could think to say the only words which managed to escape him now, “Thank you, Ace.” Because he was grateful, for the way she managed to turn time in her favor, making his days feel merely like seconds.
03. “Oh, Ace,” he moaned, in that controlled tone of quiet mourning that managed to denote the myriad of emotions rippling through him whenever he had reason to speak her name as though it were a benediction. There were words meant to come after her name, words that would clarify and reveal, but always the syllables stopped, his voice buried by the air.
02. He so often hoped that humans would quell their base urges, prove that redemption was possible, but so frequently, he was disappointed. This time was no different. The Doctor only wished, desperately, that Ace had been spared this, the result of the worst loss of control. Instead, she'd been shot, and the fear which had been so fervent in everyone's mind, which had been feeding the Fearmonger, now burgeoned within him. “It's all right, Ace,” he whispered over and over, brushing his fingers tenderly across her clammy brow as her eyes glazed. He leaned closer, silently demanding that she anchor to him. For one fleeting, agonizing moment, he wondered how much more blood could leave her, and if he should say...no, no, there was no imminent end for her, for them. The Doctor smiled as convincingly as he could manage, testing an affirmation as he pressed his lips to her forehead.
01. The chaos that ensued as they fled Colony 34 had not allowed the Doctor to really consider how badly Ace had been hurt. More than that, he realized, he had no desire to imagine anything until they were safely back at the TARDIS, because his own mind was so often his worst enemy. After she had finally fallen asleep, the Doctor stood from the chair next to her mind, which he had been occupying. He paced slowly, rubbing his thumb against his forefinger as he watched Ace breathe. The rhythm was normal, not shallow or stunted in any way, and she was deeply asleep, for which he was grateful. Ceasing his movement, the Doctor drew in a deep breath of his own, taking a seat once more next to her bed. Gingerly, he brushed his fingers down her arm, seeking the pulse in her wrist, which he put his fingertips to gratefully. But that wasn't enough to ameliorate his anxiety, to appease the love (love? He wondered) thrumming in his hearts, calling out for reassurance. So the Doctor scooted closer, careful not to disturb her as he turned his head sideways and pressed his ear to her heartbeat. At last, he uncoiled, anchored there to the gentle sound of her life.
10. Because he could not, and would not apologize, because the sorrow and doubt in her eyes was torment to look upon, he confessed, “I'd've done anything not to have hurt you.”
09. As he so often did, the Doctor's preceding question might have led anyone else to believe he was chiding Ace for her actions. But the Doctor was actually overwhelmed with pride, and he conveyed as much when he happily chimed, “That's my girl!”
08. When he turned around, intent on probing Ace further on the nature of the presence she'd sensed in this house so long ago, the Doctor stopped abruptly at the sight of his friend sleeping peacefully. Still in her tuxedo, an abrupt departure from accepted fashion for a Victorian lady, the Doctor couldn't help but smile fondly down at her. A tumult of emotions flickered through him in that instant: protectiveness, pride, even...adoration. Gingerly, he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, pulling away just as quickly.
07. Though he had gently admonished Ace for the possible adverse effect she could have wrought on the timeline by allowing people, living decades before she'd ever been born, to see her tape deck, the Doctor internally knew how much she enjoyed it. Further, the idea that he could surprise and please her at the same time incited the Doctor into reconstructing a new tape deck for Ace, one with enhancements he thought she might appreciate.
06. The overwhelming, rare feeling of such intense anger had begun to lose its fierce grip on his mind as the Doctor searched desperately for signs of life in the rubble. A quick, nearly silent breath of relief passed from his lips as he heard Ace's voice. Knowing she was safe, at last, a greater sense of urgency began to supplant his preceding feelings of worry, as he knew that there was still a wealth of trouble to contend with. But Ace's attempt to explain why Morgaine had acquired the sword pulled the Doctor briefly away from his assessment of the bigger picture, and he stifled any rumination on the reason his hearts were still turning over as he looked at her, beautifully alive. “Exotic aliens swords are easy to come by. Aces are rare.”
05. The dubious look in Ace's eyes was a familiar one; she was uncertain about his plan, worried over the outcome, and quietly seeking a modicum of assurance she would doubtless never explicitly ask for. Though he would equally never admit how damning such a look was to the tender part of his hearts, he could not walk away from her now without assuaging some of that turmoil brimming in her eyes, her eyes that were so decipherable to him. So he turned slightly, smiling warmly as he gently tapped the tip of her nose. The touch lingered for a mere second, but he communicated absolutes most effectively in these moments, when he waited to blink, to breathe, until she smiled back at him.
04. She kissed him, and he felt time then, as he hadn't for years. The seconds ticking by were as days between them, and he counted the pauses between his heartbeats, searching for the sound of hers, the metronome by which he could steady his frenetic thoughts. He was supposed to say something, wasn't he? It had been untold years since he'd seen such a kiss between any two people, and he clung tightly to any memory he could find, hoping it would banish his uncertainty. “I...” The Doctor paused, and another day passed, it seemed, until he could think to say the only words which managed to escape him now, “Thank you, Ace.” Because he was grateful, for the way she managed to turn time in her favor, making his days feel merely like seconds.
03. “Oh, Ace,” he moaned, in that controlled tone of quiet mourning that managed to denote the myriad of emotions rippling through him whenever he had reason to speak her name as though it were a benediction. There were words meant to come after her name, words that would clarify and reveal, but always the syllables stopped, his voice buried by the air.
02. He so often hoped that humans would quell their base urges, prove that redemption was possible, but so frequently, he was disappointed. This time was no different. The Doctor only wished, desperately, that Ace had been spared this, the result of the worst loss of control. Instead, she'd been shot, and the fear which had been so fervent in everyone's mind, which had been feeding the Fearmonger, now burgeoned within him. “It's all right, Ace,” he whispered over and over, brushing his fingers tenderly across her clammy brow as her eyes glazed. He leaned closer, silently demanding that she anchor to him. For one fleeting, agonizing moment, he wondered how much more blood could leave her, and if he should say...no, no, there was no imminent end for her, for them. The Doctor smiled as convincingly as he could manage, testing an affirmation as he pressed his lips to her forehead.
01. The chaos that ensued as they fled Colony 34 had not allowed the Doctor to really consider how badly Ace had been hurt. More than that, he realized, he had no desire to imagine anything until they were safely back at the TARDIS, because his own mind was so often his worst enemy. After she had finally fallen asleep, the Doctor stood from the chair next to her mind, which he had been occupying. He paced slowly, rubbing his thumb against his forefinger as he watched Ace breathe. The rhythm was normal, not shallow or stunted in any way, and she was deeply asleep, for which he was grateful. Ceasing his movement, the Doctor drew in a deep breath of his own, taking a seat once more next to her bed. Gingerly, he brushed his fingers down her arm, seeking the pulse in her wrist, which he put his fingertips to gratefully. But that wasn't enough to ameliorate his anxiety, to appease the love (love? He wondered) thrumming in his hearts, calling out for reassurance. So the Doctor scooted closer, careful not to disturb her as he turned his head sideways and pressed his ear to her heartbeat. At last, he uncoiled, anchored there to the gentle sound of her life.