"do your parents know you're drinking monster?" - My math teacher
Yeah Mrs. They actually buy it for me so uh... Also this ridiculously big thing of candy
All bc my mom is guilty she fucked me over and I'm taking advantage of it!! If I can't get rid of the trauma I might aswell embrace the perks, amirite?
Synopsis: The Doctor's morals slip further. It's become obvious to him that he needs to develop some actual strategy.
A/n: I'm so sorry it's been another gap in writing...if any of yall are still vibin with it, sound off!! Thanksss (I'm going to try to push more out quicker soon. Again!)
In the car ride home, he calculated. This situation almost was a faltering car crash in itself!
He nearly lost her, and to his own stupid pride!
He spent the entire car ride juggling with his morality. Taking curious little half-peeks into her brain. It seemed a bit past due, this. He finally gave in no small way…
At one end, they were chattering on. Her mind was racing around in many convergent pathways on the topics brought up. Anything from her probing about various curiosities. And the deep philosophical ranges he would invoke, just to keep her brain in a frenzy. It would be easier to parse down through and pierce. Missy, the Rani and he got top marks at the Academy on a project involving chaos and order in the arts of mind reading. He was stunned by the sheer amount of seemingly superfluous knowledge that she had crammed in there. Even though he knew she was smart, clever and balanced differently than your average human.
At the other, he was searching. Seeing what (y/n) was up to, planning out. Past what she said, what she thought and thought she said and thought. She was still a bit angry and was trying her hardest to let go, and not be jealous. She was fighting naming what she felt for him as love. There was quite the struggle with inner hypocrisy.
One small part of her genuinely was enamored with the thoughts that he chose her. That he seemed truthful that he wanted her to grow old alongside him in his retirement. Whatever that looked like. She was still reeling about the (as stated frequently in her brain…) “Fucking ageless alien bit”.
She had some caveats that she was going to bring up, later, of course. She didn’t want to spoil the weekends happy afterglow.
He could feel the choking nature of her holding her tongue in his brain as he went in deeper.
It felt so illicit! He wasn’t one to be like this, he’d have to go scream at Missy for this later, but it was freeing. He finally understood the humans and their gossip rags.
“I don’t endorse that behavior, but I agree with some of their points.” She admitted, in the real-life conversation. He snapped himself out of her mind.
She never stopped surprising him. Even now, as he held the inter-workings of her brain in his hand. It seemed that she’d always thwart him and his understandings.
Although, she was very distracted by his physicality, and that would be an advantage to him. She was very docile in that regards. Different from what he could tell went on in her work.
He would have to go down new avenues…
Or would he? She’d already so surrendered herself to the ideas of them.
He’d have to dwell in that later, maybe after his yelling session at Missy.
A perfect pet to keep on Earth, in her own time and place. Where nothing would ever rip her away from him…
The idea made him giddy.
Utterly addicted to it. Utterly ashamed of it.
Finally back to Bristol, she left and said she had to attend to her studies. Which was fine by him.
He descended into the Vault.
“Your parents were wrong! I’m not the bad influence, you are!” He entered pointer finger out, jacket fluttering behind him.
“I’d love to know what that high praise is for!” Missy jumped, almost shocked at this outburst.
“I’m out here invading people’s minds and rummaging around like it’s a toy chest!” He accused.
“Whatever happened to ‘Hello!’ or ‘How are you, haven’t seen you in months, Missy! How’s life?’ or even ‘Hey, Missy, here’s a tuba, I know you love ‘em!’?”
“That human girl…” He seethed, feeling remorse bubble up.
“Another ickle girlie dead?” Missy smiled, teeth showing, glinting with a venomous shine…
He felt her start to enter his mind and he let her in. Doors opened and she started sifting through the past months.
“Oh! This is too good!” She giggled, her hips swishing in her skirt.
“Naughty boy, Doctor! You’re tramping up with this girl.”
“We’re not that different after all! You with your…whore. Sorry, little Fawn. And me with my twenty-seven nuclear missiles!”
“What?”
“Oh, back when I was Prime Minister! I bought some missiles from some Russian man and I have them in a garden shed somewhere in Scotland. I forget where.”
He’d deal with that even later.
His head was physically painful as she didn’t take care and do an ounce of discretion as he did to (y/n)’s brain earlier.
“I want to meet her! Please!” She drew out the ‘please’ and clasped her hands together. “I promise to act cool.”
“One day, if you’re very good.”
“The best.” She bowed deeply.
“I always knew you’d loop around to do something like this. Ever since you started palling about with that Jo Grant. Lovely woman. But I knew you’d give in. You always have to have the prettiest companions on your arms. Vain and dirty old man.”
“I was pining for you.” The Doctor confessed.
“And I was pining for you, and Jo. Do you have a point?” She confessed back.
“Come on, you were always this close to ascending to god-like levels of delusion. I was the one to hold you back. And I was always going to become what I am. I may be many, many, many levels of crazy. But I’m honest about it…” .
The Doctor wiped his face.
“Yeah, I’ll leave you to this. I need to clear my head. I have work tomorrow. And to meet her.”
Missy just started making kissing noises and wrapping her arms around her body as if she were deep in a lover’s embrace.
The Doctor left the Vault. His brain in a state of chaos that wasn’t Missy’s making.
He wasn’t above certain things, but he had to remain a hero. Honor Clara’s bit of “Be the Doctor”. And to keep his reputation up. He felt positively furtive.
This wasn’t going to be an easy option. Dealing with Daleks? A walk in the park compared to his morals disintegrating around him over his attraction to a human woman.
Could he still be the Doctor? And be Professor Smith to her and others?
Why had this foresight not come to him as he and Nardole started this little façade…
He never thought he’d fall for another human again.
Stupid him.
Idiot Doctor.
Humans were always worming their way into his hearts.
It was inevitable…
He went to his office to prepare for the week.
He missed the smell of cigarette smoke and her sweat.
He hated the scent, but it reminded him of his fawn. He chose his pet name for her well…
The lone wolf that would pursue the separated fawn.
Very good metaphors.
He had his legitimate tutoring of her tomorrow, however. How could he leverage this? Make her further buckle into him…
What a sweet sin.
Her desire for him.
He recognized his unhealthy veering into base, carnal feelings. Haunting him.
The images of Earth’s own myths of fallen angels danced in his mind.
Was he a fallen angel here? Or was she?
He certainly was falling as an hero. The ethical moor of the universe.
Retiring from interstellar heroics and focusing on his dearest best enemy. Now he was leading a young woman into his web of interest.
Selfish.
Infinitely so…
Hadn’t he deserved it? Deserved it all.
He was the universe’s slave for a truly insane amount of years.
He was (to borrow a phrase…) the Master of His Own Fate. It was his birth right, not only as a Time Lord, but as the ultimate survivor of every wound the Time War had brought out. The savior and destroyer of all of creation.
He was owed this.
The Doctor was now demanding this.
Zero compromises. Even if that was bad optics…
His thoughts became a lust-filled power trip.
He taught his classes and set up his office for tutoring. He was unwilling to part with pretense. Of course, he’d educate her! It was her right! She paid for it!
But the trap…
The glimmering trap of self.
The uneasy shift in morality turned over in his brain like a car’s engine on a frosty day.
How deep was he actually willing to go, to not only have his selfish needs taken care of? How much of a betrayal of self and his past would he commit to? Could he?
And her…precious her…mostly unaware of how much fire she was playing with.
He got her a coffee just as she liked and set up the office, he let the bright light of the Spring day stream in through the windows.
After some deliberation, he took the huge tapestry off where he tucked his TARDIS.
“Sorry, old girl. Maybe one day you’ll get a chance…” He muttered, stroking the wood of the door, lightly brushing the lock.
He felt unworthy to stand in it’s unveiled presence, but it would help the game shift…
She came in, all plain clothes and awkward grace. Herself at her core.
Today, she was overzealous with her perfume and looked beyond tired.
He didn’t probe her mind.
“I’m assuming that’s your ship.” She stated, a look that could be easily misconceived flashed across her face.
“Vintage.” She described it aptly.
“In an effort of truthfulness…I’m showing you it.” He explained, approaching her slowly, coffee in hand extended.
She took it and followed with a large sip.
“I’m assuming it’s got some cloaking thing, I don’t know…like Star Trek or something?” She observed. “Not well, of course, but hey…we can’t really expect TV show-level perfection.”
He nodded.
He went for a half-truthful flatterer’s route. “On the ticket. So many are shocked and confused.”
She shrugged and sucked her teeth against her lips. “I’ve got fuck-all to do sometimes so…”
“Terms coming to an end soon, want to discuss the last of the notes and my lectures before exams? Or…” He alluded.
“Oh, yeah. No special treatment here, thanks. I need help.” She made a motion of a non-committal nature with her free hand as she placed the coffee down and unhindered herself from her hoodie and bag…
And they were off, talking about it all and the lessons of the course. She was apparently very determined to get by on her skills. Not wanting any of the favoritism that shtupping the teacher could have brought her marks…
Her sliding scale of morals amused him.
It was oddly complimentary.
It added layers to this little game she didn’t know she was playing.
“Some weekend, huh?” She said as time was beginning to run out. The awkward, reassuring smile and slouched body language completely opposite to her showy presentation on Saturday night.
“Not at all my plans.”
“Yeah, I could tell.” The shaky little half-chortle echoed across the room. She went to go chew on a hang nail. He gently removed her thumb from her mouth before she could bite the aggrieved area.
“I like Petronella. She’s a great person. She’s coming up to visit me over the summer holiday. And vice versa.”
“Meet me here tonight. More truthfulness…” He offered, a dangerous idea flickering into his brain and coming out of his mouth before he could control himself.
He have to project his messages to Missy at a mental scream all day. Give her guidelines…promising her the tuba she so desperately wanted. It’d probably be just as hefty an annoyance as her piano.
“At what time? And what?” She pushed.
“Oh, you’ll see… how about nine PM?”
She gave a little nod of her head.
They broke the meeting with a kiss.
He went off to teach, sending Missy the message and threats of many lifetimes…
AND IT'S NOT A WHITE ONE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
TIME TO ENJOY THE SHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Victorine, 18 ans, morte étranglée par une petite frappe sinistre après « une bousculade involontaire » pendant qu'il faisait son footing en forêt. Le fait qu'on l'ait retrouvée sans pantalon indique sûrement que la petite dinde comptait faire sa lessive dans la rivière, la sotte.
