Fic: Salt & Sunshine
Title: Salt & Sunshine
Author: Mary (stillxmyxheart)
Beta: Rebekah (bekkis)
Rating: G
Genre: Fluff (smidgen of angst)
Word Count: 723
Characters: Ten/Rose
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize? Ain't mine.
Summary: Every so often reality is better than dreams.
A/N: Second fic for Challenge 13, "Poetry", at then_theres_us (prompt is behind the cut before the fic)
040.
I had a dream about you. We were in the gold room
where everyone finally gets what they want.
You said Tell me about your books, your visions made
of flesh and light and I said This is the Moon. This is
the Sun. Let me name the stars for you. Let me take you
there. The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugar
cube... We were in the gold room where everyone
finally gets what they want, so I said What do you
want, sweetheart? and you said Kiss me.
They lie side by side on the sun-warmed grass. She's reading a book, something she pulled from the TARDIS library. Her arms and legs are bare, slowly browning in the sun.
His hands are playing with the strands of her hair that rest on the grass, glowing gold in the light as he gently twists the sections around his fingers.
She sighs and lowers her book. He can see her frown and ceases the movement of his hands, wondering if he's annoyed her somehow, though she's never before complained when he toyed with her hair.
"I had a dream last night," she says and he relaxes, his fingers continuing their actions from before.
"Yeah?" he asks. "What about?"
"We were in this room," she begins and he can see her eyes narrow as she calls forth the memory. "And you said that in this room, I could have whatever I wanted."
"Sounds dangerous," he says, grinning up at her profile. He sees her lips curve slightly and he moves closer, wanting to inhale the scent of her coconut shampoo.
"I asked you about the universe, the galaxies and planets and you told me all you could, and you named the stars for me."
"I'd tell you that anyway," he says, shifting still closer until he can brush her shoulder with his lips.
"You told me about Gallifrey," she adds softly.
He freezes, his breath warm on her arm. The air is tense and he can tell that she's suddenly upset with herself.
"I filled in the details for myself," she continues, her voice tight. "D'you want to hear?"
He is silent a moment and then he whispers an affirmative, his lips moving against her collar bone, his eyes trained on a spot just behind her ear.
"The sky was blue, bluer and brighter than Earth's. The seas were green, and not that murky green that's really brown but emerald green. The grass was blue and you said that's why the sky was blue, because there was more grass than sea. Sort of like on Earth, but switched. And the leaves on the trees were silver, and they sparkled all the time, even at night. And there was a hill with a huge school, an academy, and that's where you learned everything."
He smiles against her skin. Much as she has seen and experienced, her mind invented an image of Gallifrey that closely resembled that of her own home.
"Was I right?" she asks.
He raises himself up to look properly at her face and shakes his head.
"Not even close," he replies, grinning. She smiles back and her cheeks are damp, shining in the sunlight.
He uses his thumb to wipe away her tears and gently caresses her cheek.
"It sounds just as beautiful, though."
She closes her eyes and they are silent a moment.
He finds himself enthralled again at the way her hair is spread on the grass, glowing like a halo around her head. The way her lashes rest on her cheeks, today free of their usual coating of mascara, dark and feathery against the lighter skin of her face.
"There was one thing you wouldn't do," she murmurs, her eyes fluttering open.
"What's that?" he asks, stroking her hair, pushing it back and watching it shimmer.
"I kept asking you to kiss me and you never would, no matter how many times I asked."
"You own dream deprived you of this?" he asks, eyebrows raised. She nods and even though she is only describing a dream, a veil of melancholy seems to have settled upon her.
He presses his lips to her forehead and her hands are on his neck, her fingers in his hair as he moves to kiss the tip of her nose, then her cheek, tasting salt and sunshine and lingering there for a moment before brushing her lips with his.
He smiles down at her and she smiles back, though her eyes seem to shine brighter than usual. He is close enough to see all the tiny imperfections in her irises (which are, of course, perfection), to count her eyelashes if he so wished, and he savors this view a moment before he kisses her properly.
"You don't need a special room to get whatever you want," he whispers and she smiles against his lips.
Author: Mary (stillxmyxheart)
Beta: Rebekah (bekkis)
Rating: G
Genre: Fluff (smidgen of angst)
Word Count: 723
Characters: Ten/Rose
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize? Ain't mine.
Summary: Every so often reality is better than dreams.
A/N: Second fic for Challenge 13, "Poetry", at then_theres_us (prompt is behind the cut before the fic)
040.
I had a dream about you. We were in the gold room
where everyone finally gets what they want.
You said Tell me about your books, your visions made
of flesh and light and I said This is the Moon. This is
the Sun. Let me name the stars for you. Let me take you
there. The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugar
cube... We were in the gold room where everyone
finally gets what they want, so I said What do you
want, sweetheart? and you said Kiss me.
They lie side by side on the sun-warmed grass. She's reading a book, something she pulled from the TARDIS library. Her arms and legs are bare, slowly browning in the sun.
His hands are playing with the strands of her hair that rest on the grass, glowing gold in the light as he gently twists the sections around his fingers.
She sighs and lowers her book. He can see her frown and ceases the movement of his hands, wondering if he's annoyed her somehow, though she's never before complained when he toyed with her hair.
"I had a dream last night," she says and he relaxes, his fingers continuing their actions from before.
"Yeah?" he asks. "What about?"
"We were in this room," she begins and he can see her eyes narrow as she calls forth the memory. "And you said that in this room, I could have whatever I wanted."
"Sounds dangerous," he says, grinning up at her profile. He sees her lips curve slightly and he moves closer, wanting to inhale the scent of her coconut shampoo.
"I asked you about the universe, the galaxies and planets and you told me all you could, and you named the stars for me."
"I'd tell you that anyway," he says, shifting still closer until he can brush her shoulder with his lips.
"You told me about Gallifrey," she adds softly.
He freezes, his breath warm on her arm. The air is tense and he can tell that she's suddenly upset with herself.
"I filled in the details for myself," she continues, her voice tight. "D'you want to hear?"
He is silent a moment and then he whispers an affirmative, his lips moving against her collar bone, his eyes trained on a spot just behind her ear.
"The sky was blue, bluer and brighter than Earth's. The seas were green, and not that murky green that's really brown but emerald green. The grass was blue and you said that's why the sky was blue, because there was more grass than sea. Sort of like on Earth, but switched. And the leaves on the trees were silver, and they sparkled all the time, even at night. And there was a hill with a huge school, an academy, and that's where you learned everything."
He smiles against her skin. Much as she has seen and experienced, her mind invented an image of Gallifrey that closely resembled that of her own home.
"Was I right?" she asks.
He raises himself up to look properly at her face and shakes his head.
"Not even close," he replies, grinning. She smiles back and her cheeks are damp, shining in the sunlight.
He uses his thumb to wipe away her tears and gently caresses her cheek.
"It sounds just as beautiful, though."
She closes her eyes and they are silent a moment.
He finds himself enthralled again at the way her hair is spread on the grass, glowing like a halo around her head. The way her lashes rest on her cheeks, today free of their usual coating of mascara, dark and feathery against the lighter skin of her face.
"There was one thing you wouldn't do," she murmurs, her eyes fluttering open.
"What's that?" he asks, stroking her hair, pushing it back and watching it shimmer.
"I kept asking you to kiss me and you never would, no matter how many times I asked."
"You own dream deprived you of this?" he asks, eyebrows raised. She nods and even though she is only describing a dream, a veil of melancholy seems to have settled upon her.
He presses his lips to her forehead and her hands are on his neck, her fingers in his hair as he moves to kiss the tip of her nose, then her cheek, tasting salt and sunshine and lingering there for a moment before brushing her lips with his.
He smiles down at her and she smiles back, though her eyes seem to shine brighter than usual. He is close enough to see all the tiny imperfections in her irises (which are, of course, perfection), to count her eyelashes if he so wished, and he savors this view a moment before he kisses her properly.
"You don't need a special room to get whatever you want," he whispers and she smiles against his lips.