Vestige
Title: Vestige
Characters/Pairing: 11/Amy
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 499
Disclaimer: Do not own.
Summery: This had never happened before, no one had dared.
Note: Spoilers for "Flesh and Stone." For gimmemypickle.
Almost cherry picking? ;)
Somehow, possibly in the battle to get her up the stairs, he loses his bow-tie and finds his braces swinging against his legs again. She seems to posses multiple pairs of arms. One moment he'll be trying to grasp hands snaking his bow-tie through his collar to suddenly be diverted by nimble fingers tugging his shirt out of his trousers.
It was disorientating and he blames that for the momentary lapse of sense when he finds himself pushing against her mouth.
"Really Amy, be sensible! Amelia!"
"'fraid that won't work Doctor." She twines her arms around his neck, kissing his face and he grips her waist and makes her move. Flushed, she looks over her shoulder and down the corridor. "Where are we going? My bedroom's that way." She jerks her head behind them and he nods. She had been trying to steer them that way.
"We're heading towards a bedroom, yes."
"Yours?" She asks excitedly, eyes aflame and darts for his lips again but he stealthily moves away. Or he would have if her hands hadn't started wandering again, rubbing. The right door finally at his back he leans back and grasps her face in his hands, looking into her eyes. He leans in quickly and kisses her deep, shocking her for a moment. As he feels the pressure of her hands becoming slack and the taste of her open mouth he pushes against her shoulders, sending her reeling back.
He's through the door and locked it in two seconds flat.
"Doctor?" She stands alone in the corridor, pressing her palms against the door he stands behind. He feels light with relief but the sound of her voice does something unpleasant to his stomach.
"I think you need to rest Amy, no more strenuous activity." He cringes at the words, at the oddity of it. Never had this happened here, though sometimes he imagined it could. No one dared, that was the problem. Or the benefit.
"I thought you were going to sort me out?"
"I will, in a manner of speaking. Please, just try to sleep. You've been through a lot and it's obviously got you riled up." She laughs, a muffled sound and he presses himself closer to the door. "Are you all right?"
"I'm not the one hiding behind a door...I don't want to close my eyes again, I don't want to sleep..." she trials off and a silence weighs on her side. He opens the door a crack. She stands with her hands bundled up in her jumper, dejected. "Don't worry, I won't ravish you."
He ignores that and regards her with assurance and sympathy, opening the door wider. "Nothing can hurt you here, I promise. In the morning everything will seem better. All right?"
"If you say so. Goodnight Doctor."
"Goodnight Amelia..." She moves away and out of sight. Closing the door he leans against it for some time before stirring and tuts at the vestiges of want his body had produced with guilty disapproval.
Characters/Pairing: 11/Amy
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 499
Disclaimer: Do not own.
Summery: This had never happened before, no one had dared.
Note: Spoilers for "Flesh and Stone." For gimmemypickle.
Almost cherry picking? ;)
Somehow, possibly in the battle to get her up the stairs, he loses his bow-tie and finds his braces swinging against his legs again. She seems to posses multiple pairs of arms. One moment he'll be trying to grasp hands snaking his bow-tie through his collar to suddenly be diverted by nimble fingers tugging his shirt out of his trousers.
It was disorientating and he blames that for the momentary lapse of sense when he finds himself pushing against her mouth.
"Really Amy, be sensible! Amelia!"
"'fraid that won't work Doctor." She twines her arms around his neck, kissing his face and he grips her waist and makes her move. Flushed, she looks over her shoulder and down the corridor. "Where are we going? My bedroom's that way." She jerks her head behind them and he nods. She had been trying to steer them that way.
"We're heading towards a bedroom, yes."
"Yours?" She asks excitedly, eyes aflame and darts for his lips again but he stealthily moves away. Or he would have if her hands hadn't started wandering again, rubbing. The right door finally at his back he leans back and grasps her face in his hands, looking into her eyes. He leans in quickly and kisses her deep, shocking her for a moment. As he feels the pressure of her hands becoming slack and the taste of her open mouth he pushes against her shoulders, sending her reeling back.
He's through the door and locked it in two seconds flat.
"Doctor?" She stands alone in the corridor, pressing her palms against the door he stands behind. He feels light with relief but the sound of her voice does something unpleasant to his stomach.
"I think you need to rest Amy, no more strenuous activity." He cringes at the words, at the oddity of it. Never had this happened here, though sometimes he imagined it could. No one dared, that was the problem. Or the benefit.
"I thought you were going to sort me out?"
"I will, in a manner of speaking. Please, just try to sleep. You've been through a lot and it's obviously got you riled up." She laughs, a muffled sound and he presses himself closer to the door. "Are you all right?"
"I'm not the one hiding behind a door...I don't want to close my eyes again, I don't want to sleep..." she trials off and a silence weighs on her side. He opens the door a crack. She stands with her hands bundled up in her jumper, dejected. "Don't worry, I won't ravish you."
He ignores that and regards her with assurance and sympathy, opening the door wider. "Nothing can hurt you here, I promise. In the morning everything will seem better. All right?"
"If you say so. Goodnight Doctor."
"Goodnight Amelia..." She moves away and out of sight. Closing the door he leans against it for some time before stirring and tuts at the vestiges of want his body had produced with guilty disapproval.