Dreams of Hilarious Beauty (drabble)
Title: Dreams of Hilarious Beauty
Author: Minervafan
A/N: After The Romans and The Web Planet; pure mush.
Rating: G
Summary: Ian is haunted by unusual dreams.
It was weeks afterwards that the dreams started. It was silly, of course. Nothing to worry about…just the pressure of travel and danger getting to him.
Barbara, in a diaphanous white gown, her hair in ringlets atop her head….
Pelting him with pillows.
Laughing.
Giggling, more precisely.
He woke each morning, three days in a row, covered in perspiration, tense, embarrassed.
Thank goodness he didn't have to share a sleeping area like Barbara and Vicki did.
It had been weeks since they'd been to Rome, weeks since they'd nearly lost their freedom and possibly their lives to slavers. He'd expected nightmares, of course. It came with the territory. Slave traders, the Circus, brutal beatings. Fear. Hunger. Pain.
But those dreams never came. Instead it was always the same. Barbara Wright, beautiful, laughing, smashing him in the hips and waist with pillows as they tangled together on the settee.
How is it that he could go through all that fear and pain and worry, and the only thing his subconscious mind could find to latch onto was a single moment of hilarious beauty?
Author: Minervafan
A/N: After The Romans and The Web Planet; pure mush.
Rating: G
Summary: Ian is haunted by unusual dreams.
It was weeks afterwards that the dreams started. It was silly, of course. Nothing to worry about…just the pressure of travel and danger getting to him.
Barbara, in a diaphanous white gown, her hair in ringlets atop her head….
Pelting him with pillows.
Laughing.
Giggling, more precisely.
He woke each morning, three days in a row, covered in perspiration, tense, embarrassed.
Thank goodness he didn't have to share a sleeping area like Barbara and Vicki did.
It had been weeks since they'd been to Rome, weeks since they'd nearly lost their freedom and possibly their lives to slavers. He'd expected nightmares, of course. It came with the territory. Slave traders, the Circus, brutal beatings. Fear. Hunger. Pain.
But those dreams never came. Instead it was always the same. Barbara Wright, beautiful, laughing, smashing him in the hips and waist with pillows as they tangled together on the settee.
How is it that he could go through all that fear and pain and worry, and the only thing his subconscious mind could find to latch onto was a single moment of hilarious beauty?