#flirtlater

[unionjackwolf]

@flirtlater continued from x after 5 months

“What, considering that you once got body swapped with a vengeful human trampoline, possessed by the TARDIS, and had to spend a whole forty-six hours aboard this ship with your mother? Ah, you’re fine. Still got a smile on your face.” he reasoned, one of his ever knowledgeable pondering little frowns upon his face in mild teasing. Still, she takes everything in her stride. Always. Nothing phases Rose Tyler any more. Defender of The Earth just doesn’t cover it any more. But when she jumps to her feet quite suddenly, his reaction spells that he became for a moment quite lost in thought. A double take with a startled blink that soon melts into a smile. Still, eyes narrow at her wiggling fingers, a tempting offer to just run away into the depths of the TARDIS and merely while away the hours messing about in the wardrobe with the myriad of ridiculous clothes and costumes that lay around. Perhaps this was how it felt when he did the same. In that moment the realisation that he was a teasing and all too excitable companion struck him, if he was anything like this. The Doctor hardly hesitated, though, soon jumping from his seat and taking her hand, the pair of them wandering along quite as per usual. “Fair few corridors down, though.” he supposed, peering down the first hallway of a series of them. “Fancy a run? Old habits die hard.”

“Yeah, y’know, great times.” Rose returned the grin, tongue poking from the corner of her mouth in a way she only did when she was around him. He made her feel everything at once, excitement,  happiness, the constant wish to run, further and further again, among the stars, with him by her side to hold her hand. All of these things she would never say, though, but Rose was sure that he already knew. They both did. Once he sprang to his feet as well, her eyes followed him, thinking how his hair had a mind of its own. She must have taken that thought into so much consideration that his suggestion almost slipped her attention. Almost.

     “You bet’cha. Loser pays for chips?”

Might as well make it a competition, knowing how he lit up at any type of challenge. The past several days have been a challenge in itself, and Rose could not be happier, bitchy trampolines and werewolves be damned.

Without waiting for his answer, she squeezed his hand and set off down the hallway after letting it go, well aware that she was yet to learn all the passageways that lead to the wardrobe, but deciding to stick with her gut. 

       “Come on, then, Doctor! Bein’ too slow over there, are we?

[diabolicalmadness]

flirtlater started following you

‘Oh my boyfriend. Come to save the day-..how predictable. Did you miss me?” 

[saiibra-archive]

❤ = kissing them ( bc im daring af )

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Before meeting the Doctor, Saibra had never been toointerested in history. Sure, she had the basics of high school class and knewthe references people made in her century, but that was about it. No teacherhad ever made her see history as anything more than a bunch of random dateswith a couple facts attached she had to memorize. That was, of course, untilshe first traveled with the TARDIS.

Once the Doctor learned about her ignorance of anythingearlier than her birth year, he made it almost a challenge to teach her as muchas he could of older culture and history. But somehow they mostly spoke aboutthe late 20th and early 21st centuries and the pop-culture they both broughtwith them. He insisted it wasnecessary if she wanted to disguise herself as part of the time, but she knewbetter than to fall for that excuse. After all, when had they spent more than aweek in one era? It was obvious that they were just the things he liked andthat he enjoyed teaching her about them, and she *liked* seeing what hisfavourite films, books and music were. Since, most of their free time(which in a time machine is whenever one likes) was spent with their noses in abook or in front of a screen.

This evening they had been marathoning some Audrey Hepburnmovies, as usual cuddled together in the couch - whenever the Doctor sat, Saibra just found a way to be as close as possible and if viable, surrounded by his arms. As the last scene faded away on the screen, Saibra leaned towards the screen with sparkling eyes. “I’ve never been kissed before,” she murmured. Then turned to look at the Doctor. “What does it feel like?”

[saiibra-archive]

Δ = playing with their hair

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It had become almost a rule between them that the time they spent in the TARDIS - as well as outside of it, was together. Or rather: Saibra would follow him wherever he went like she needed his presence to survive. And well, he had yet to complain.

Today had been a pretty typical day: lots of running and escaping death by almost sheer luck, where they had arrived at the TARDIS panting and gasping. So it wasn’t much of a surprise that once the adrenaline rush was over, all that was left in Saibra was exhaustion.

He sank on a chair with a book in his hand and she settled next to his legs, resting her head on his knee. She might have tried to read herself if she had been able to keep her eyes open for longer than a couple minutes. The pages turned with a soft sound and the scent of old book lingered in the air; they soothed her into a half-asleep state. 

There was a small movement in the back of her neck, barely noticeable at first. But as it shifted to her head she recognised it as the Doctor’s hand, fondly stroking her hair. Something between a sigh and a moan escaped her parted lips and she shuffled closer to his body, wrapping an arm around one of his lanky legs. With a hum she leaned into his touch in an attempt of telling him not to stop.

[saiibra-archive]

❂ = wiping blood off their face

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Traveling with the Doctor always involved part of danger: not knowing where you would land most of the time for starters. That was the first thing Saibra had learned when she first got on the TARDIS: speed and wits are necessary if you want to get away unharmed from most situations.

This time they had somehow ended in the middle of a chase, where luckily they weren’t the target, but an animal Saibra had never seen before that ran next to them. It was a bright blue colour, its fur shone beautifully but it was useless camouflage between the dark brown trees of this jungle. As fast as it was, it wasn’t enough to outrun the creature following them: it looked like some kind of bear or giant wolf, dark fur covering yellow eyes and collosal fangs. 

Saibra and the Doctor barely had time to find a place behind a tree right before the predator reached the blue creature. Unfortunately this meant they had front row seats to see in all detail the carnivore sinking its teeth into the other’s neck. Saibra felt sick at the sight. 

The way the bear-like creature ripped the freshly dead flesh, shaking it to better separate it from the rest of the body, sent droplets of blood in their direction. Saibra was still too shocked by the display to move fast enough and she barely managed to close her eyes before it splattered her face.

Her skin immediatly reacted to the strange cells, trying to replicate the different DNA and failing. Some of her hair turned a strange shade of blue - not nearly as bright as the creature’s; her nose and jaw molded into something ressembling a misshapen muzzle; her bones struggled to form the odd new structure. Her body wavered between her original form and that of the alien creature - or as close as it could get to the dead animal’s appearance.

The incompatibility of the genes had her body struggling to transform and it felt like her insides were seeking to burst out, her bones wanting to pierce their way into the new position. Saibra had to clench her jaw tight to avoid screaming; the last thing she wanted was to alert the predator of their existence. But she couldn’t stop the tears that fell from her eyes nor could she move her hand to wipe them away.

The Doctor wrapped an arm around her waist, careful not to touch her skin and turned her towards him. It helped to have something to focus her eyes on that wasn’t the massacre - now behind her. He spoke to her softly, words of courage she didn’t listen to. His presence was enough to diminish her pain slightly. 

With a handkerchief he pulled from his pockets, he delicately wiped away the blood and tears from her face The agony stopped as soon as he did and Saibra collapsed into his arms, buried her face in his chest and let go of the fear, panic and pain with tears that soaked his vest.

[saiibra-archive]

☢ = falling over

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The crowd shuffled to give way to the man who came running like his life depended on it. No one had time to ask him what was wrong - they were too busy and he just dashed by without pause, bumping shoulders with strangers now and then. When he was just some feet away from where Saibra stood, he suddenly tripped on his own legs and fell flat on his face right in front of her. 

The situation was evidently important for him, but the stunt was so hilarious she laughed until she gasped. By the time she caught her breath, the man was standing up already (and she was grateful he didn’t a literal hand.) Most passersby glanced at him but kept walking once he was up as it was obvious he didn’t need their help. Saibra stood in front of him, watching him curiously. 

“In a hurry?” she teased him, her lips still curled up in the aftermath of her laughter. The man looked around confused. “Kinda, yeah. Are you from around?” Then he looked at her and she was thunderstruck by his eyes. They were like nothing she had seen before: so old, so very very old; much older than the features around them. And the way they looked at her, like she was the most important thing in the Universe.

She remember to nod as answer, but she was still wide-eyed in surprise. He grinned at her and it was as if it were a completely different man, one young, about her age. “Do you have time?” He looked at her awaiting a response and she was too fascinated by this man (so old and so full of life) to say no. So she nodded again.

“Brilliant! Would you mind guiding me for a while?” The way he was looking at her now reminded her of a puppy and really, how could you say no to him? “Sure,” she replied, finally regaining control of her mouth and managing a small smile. He looked around again, as if searching for something between the buildings or the crowd. But he didn’t seem to find it.

“You can call me Doctor,” he added. It was a strange name, fitting for such an odd man. “Saibra,” she replied quietly. He took her hand between both of his, shook it vigorously and dropped it before she had time to complain. “Nice to meet you, Saibra,” he beamed at her and with that he started walking. She had to jog to catch up with his fast pace. “Don’t ever do that again.”

[saiibra-archive]

▤ = falling asleep on them .

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It had all started when the Doctor had mentione some other “Doc” and some guy called Marty McFly, both of whom Saibra had never heard about. And that somehow had been almost outrageous to the Doctor who had then insisted that she must watch it. So when they had some free time (which in a time machine is any time you want, really), they settled on the couch from the cinema room. 

The first minutes of the movie were spent pausing every few seconds because Saibra had too many questions to ask about that time. From “What are those round things and how do they work?” to “Did everyone have those machines?” and “What is that kind of goo?” “Did people really dress like that?” “What is a ‘slacker’?” and so many others. But once the music started and the novelty of the 1985 lifestyle had stopped to surprise her at every new second of film, she decided to keep the smaller questions to herself and relax to enjoy the movie.

Luckily the Doctor had already warned her that time travel hadn’t been real and that it was all fiction or she would have almost believed it true. Sure, the special effects weren’t too great and the movie quality itself wasn’t what Saibra was used to. But when one is living in a time machine, why wouldn’t she believe it? Of course, she should know better than to consider it would have been possible in the century from the movie, but history wasn’t her forte.

She was so focused in the story line and Marty’s interaction with his parents, imagining how it would be for her that she wasn’t paying any attention to the Doctor. Suddenly there was a pressure on her shoulder; the head of the timelord was resting on it. And whatever focus she had on the movie shifted radically towards the touch as her heart skipped a beat. He had fallen asleep on her and she couldn’t tell if it had been intentional or not, but she was cherishing every second of it. 

The movie was suddenly but half as interesting as it had been before and though she tried to keep her mind on the plot, it kept drifting towards the man lying on her. Could one think straight when her body was tingling all, her breathing was shallow and her mind filled by only his touch? She only had to bow her head a tiny bit to the side to lean on him and she sighed with happiness. Maybe one day she would grow used to being able to touch people and the comfort it brought with it, but she couldn’t imagine it happening. 

The rest of the movie went by even more wonderfully than before. Even though she wanted to ask so many questions about the time travel there, and how it affected the future. But nothing at that moment could make her want to wake up the Doctor, nor disturb in any way the moment they were having.

[melodyandpond]

00:00:00

                                 Soulmate AU

The timer on her wrist had been ticking down since she had gone back to Stormcage. It had been years decades since it had last moved and she couldn’t imagine a reason for it to do so. Had the Doctor managed to die in the few minutes since she had last seen him? It seemed like some kind of sick joke that her timer would restart would that happen - it had to be a joke the universe was playing on her, resetting it.

When she had first seen it, the number had been over 300 hours, so she had decided to ignore it - which didn’t work as her eyes unconciously darted towards the descending numbers. It wasn’t the first time she wished these things came with a manual. She still wasn’t sure what it meant - nor for whom it was meant.

She had gone on with her normal life - well, as normal as it got; a dig on Asgard with her crew was awaiting her. It had been obvious that the timer wasn’t meant for anyone in her crew or it would have stopped when they met - unless the rules had changed. But that didn’t stop her from hiding it with long sleeves (and a watch to keep track of how much there was left).

It had been but a few days in that they had found some writings depicting what seemed to be some sort of healer wearing a cloth knot around his neck. His presence seemed to be the main part of the story they couldn’t decipher, so she sent the TARDIS a message with the coordinates of the city. 

A week passed, their work was complete and the timer on her wrist kept dripping down, second by second. This morning it marked but a few hours left and as much as she tried to deny it, she was buzzing with excitement, and a bit of fear - of what might happen, of whomever it had chosen. She felt like a teenager again, wondering if she would even like the person fate had picked for her; she wasn’t even sure if she really wanted to know.

She decided to spend the morning in the market as a way to distract herself from the approaching zero. The crowd around her could either be a hiding place from the selected person - their timer should reach zero at the same time as hers, shouldn’t it? But it also was a guarantee not to miss them. Besides, markets were one of her favorite places to buy; bargaining was expected and there was anything you could wish for. 

And as far as wishes came true, she had just filled a basket with food that she heard the distinctive noise of the TARDIS landing and spotted its blue color not far away from where she was standing. 

“You’re late,” she announced when she opened the door. It was then that her eyes settled on the man before her, not the bowtied version she knew, and her wrist stung. The numbers made visible by the basket pulling down her sleeve were clearly marking zero. But she didn’t need those to recognize her husband, even when his face was completely different. It was still somewhat a relief that her soulmate hadn’t changed nor wasn’t hurt. 

With the joy of that knowledge she dangled the basket on her arm and gestured towards the still open door. “What do you say about a picnic? I know the perfect place.”