Fic: Shooting (Doctor Who)
May. 23rd, 2008 08:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seriousficTitle: Shooting
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Doctor/Donna
Word Count: 1,234
Timeline: Takes place immediately after, with spoilers for, 4x07 – The Unicorn And The Wasp.
Summary: Donna and the Doctor aren’t going to let things get weird just because they kissed.
“So, where to now, Doctor?” Donna asked, playing with Death In The Clouds like a lazy schoolgirl.
The Doctor shrugged off his jacket in one crisp motion. It halfway puddled to the floor, but the collar caught on the edge of a table and miraculously held upright. He kicked off his trainers and they flew into an alcove on the wall. He loosened his tie, popped his shirt collar, and took a load off in the swivel-y chair. Let out a hearty yawn, then perked back up to his usual mania.
“Oh, let’s just let it roll for a bit while we shoot the breeze a little. Chew the fat. Let’s schmooze, let’s schmiel, let’s raise the level of discourse!” he cried, spinning his chair left and right.
Donna found her own chair. As soon as she sat down, she edged away from the Doctor’s chairly ratcheting. “What’s there to talk about? Your past is depressing, mine is boring…”
“My past isn’t depressing! Just the other century I was having a merry time with Liz… before she left me for… you’re right, that is depressing. Let’s have some jelly babies!”
Donna stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth. “What’s that? Some trippy alien drug?”
“What? No, it’s a sweet.”
“Oh. I’ll definitely have some, then.”
The Doctor grabbed a bag from where it had been playing doorstop to one of the console’s cabinets. He popped one into his mouth, then tossed the bag to Donna. His gaze was intent upon her as she took one between her lips and savored each atom of flavor.
“This isn’t going to get weird, is it?” Donna asked, tossing the bag back.
It beaned the Doctor in the face. “Huh?”
“You better not think that just because I kissed you we’re married under Time Lord law or something! And if you impregnated me, I swear to God I will slap you silly!”
“How could I impregnate you, it was just a kiss!” the Doctor cried, splaying a hand on his breast in innocence.
“You slipped a little tongue in there.”
The Doctor stuffed another jelly baby in his mouth as if it were evidence in his defense. “Reflex action. I get kissed a lot. I have a lot of fans! Grateful fans. With lips. Just this Christmas, there was a tiny blonde who…”
“Died horribly or left you in the dust?”
The Doctor paused with a jelly baby halfway home. When he spoke, his voice was shadowed. “Little bit of both, actually.” He petulantly ate the sweet.
Donna rolled her chair over next to him to pat the top of his left thigh, feeling his bony knee through the stylish fabric. “I’m sorry. But it is your life. Who’s fault is it if it’s depressing?”
“What are you talking about?” the Doctor plead in a high-pitched voice. “I’m very happy! I’m always going on holiday and va-cay, it’s just that Death and Chaos have it in for me.”
“It can’t be all bad luck.”
“It’s not. I just told you, they hate me.”
“Death and Chaos, who are people, hate you personally.”
“Wellll, I suppose it could just be business. Or one of those sexual tension things where two people quibble because they’re hiding their feelings for each other.”
“You’re a loony.”
“Open your eyes once in a while, temp girl.”
Simultaneously, they ate a jelly baby (Donna having stolen one from the bag in the Doctor’s lap).
“What I’m trying to get at, Martian-boy, is that you always sabotage yourself! Take Martha, for instance.” Donna made a very Martha gesture with her next jelly baby. “You’re fond of her, she likes you, I figure you could’ve made a go of it.”
“Now who’s the loony?”
“Or that Sarah Jane lady. Why don’t you just pop back to the eighties and shag her like a minx?”
“Might create a paradox,” the Doctor said in defensive exasperation, resting his chin on his hand and his elbow on his arm-rest.
Donna bonked her forehead. “Might create a pair of orgasms, more like. You’re a Time Lord! Just think of the last time you were happy and go nuts!”
“The last time I was happy?” The Doctor thought about it, then looked over at Donna. Her cheeks were stuffed with jelly babies.
“What?” she asked with her mouth full, before swallowing and reaching for another candy from the Doctor’s sack. “Oh. Is that a sonic screwdriver in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”
The Doctor crossed his legs. “I’m always happy to see you,” he scoffed affably, but firmly. “That didn’t come out right.”
“You fancy me, you horrible sneak!”
“I do not! We Time lords don’t go in for that sort of thing; we have looms!”
“Looms,” Donna repeated, folding her hands in front of her face.
“Yes! And you lot we find quite silly, with your tallywhackers and your va-jay-jays and your errrooooooogenous zones…” He waved his hands as he trailed off, as if he could capture the absurdity of the human mating ritual with jazz hands.
“I’m not wearing a bra.”
The Doctor’s eyes leapt.
“Hah, you looked!”
“I was curious!”
Donna cupped her breasts and jiggled them. “You wanna sink your teeth into them like they were two big Christmas hams!”
“No!”
“You want to nuzzle them like they were two fluffy puppies licking your face!”
“That’s a lie!”
“You wanna put your dick betwixt my girls and titty-hump them until you come on my face!”
”…that was just nasty,” the Doctor opined sourly, screwing up his face in an effect to seem neither interested nor overly disgusted, but mostly ending up looking as if he had just sniffled a sneeze.
Donna took this for Gallifreyan arousal. “It’s your fantasy, you sick bugger.”
The Doctor jumped to his feet, spilling jelly babies all over the floor. “Me sick? I’m not the one who kissed me in the middle of a poisoning!”
Donna jumped up as well, getting in his face as best she could when she came up to about his chin. “I’m not the one who got off on it!”
“Yes you were and I can prove it! Quick, kiss me like I were dying of cyanide poisoning!”
On later reflection, Donna might’ve just kissed him as if he were dying of arsenic poisoning or even just lead poisoning.
The Doctor cried foul, pointing a betrayed finger at her face. “That wasn’t it, it was more forceful! I thought you were going to eat my head!”
“It was the exact same kiss, you nostalgic bastard! If anything, you were even more of a cold fish!”
“Cold fish!” the Doctor shouted, feeling some allowances should be made for death-throes and whatnot.
“Sushi,” Donna told him in her chilliest tone.
“Oh yeah?”
He kissed her in a way that was in no way, shape, or form the kiss of a cold fish.
It took a while.
“You still need to bulk up… scrawny little alien man,” Donna said when she caught her breath. “Lift some weights…”
“Is that your way of saying you want to be on top?” The Doctor asked, bounding back and forth on his heels in that aggrandizingly (to Donna) self-pleased way of his.
She slapped his face. “Of all the cheek!”
He slapped her ass. “I’ll take that one.”
And they shot the breeze for a while longer.
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Doctor/Donna
Word Count: 1,234
Timeline: Takes place immediately after, with spoilers for, 4x07 – The Unicorn And The Wasp.
Summary: Donna and the Doctor aren’t going to let things get weird just because they kissed.
“So, where to now, Doctor?” Donna asked, playing with Death In The Clouds like a lazy schoolgirl.
The Doctor shrugged off his jacket in one crisp motion. It halfway puddled to the floor, but the collar caught on the edge of a table and miraculously held upright. He kicked off his trainers and they flew into an alcove on the wall. He loosened his tie, popped his shirt collar, and took a load off in the swivel-y chair. Let out a hearty yawn, then perked back up to his usual mania.
“Oh, let’s just let it roll for a bit while we shoot the breeze a little. Chew the fat. Let’s schmooze, let’s schmiel, let’s raise the level of discourse!” he cried, spinning his chair left and right.
Donna found her own chair. As soon as she sat down, she edged away from the Doctor’s chairly ratcheting. “What’s there to talk about? Your past is depressing, mine is boring…”
“My past isn’t depressing! Just the other century I was having a merry time with Liz… before she left me for… you’re right, that is depressing. Let’s have some jelly babies!”
Donna stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth. “What’s that? Some trippy alien drug?”
“What? No, it’s a sweet.”
“Oh. I’ll definitely have some, then.”
The Doctor grabbed a bag from where it had been playing doorstop to one of the console’s cabinets. He popped one into his mouth, then tossed the bag to Donna. His gaze was intent upon her as she took one between her lips and savored each atom of flavor.
“This isn’t going to get weird, is it?” Donna asked, tossing the bag back.
It beaned the Doctor in the face. “Huh?”
“You better not think that just because I kissed you we’re married under Time Lord law or something! And if you impregnated me, I swear to God I will slap you silly!”
“How could I impregnate you, it was just a kiss!” the Doctor cried, splaying a hand on his breast in innocence.
“You slipped a little tongue in there.”
The Doctor stuffed another jelly baby in his mouth as if it were evidence in his defense. “Reflex action. I get kissed a lot. I have a lot of fans! Grateful fans. With lips. Just this Christmas, there was a tiny blonde who…”
“Died horribly or left you in the dust?”
The Doctor paused with a jelly baby halfway home. When he spoke, his voice was shadowed. “Little bit of both, actually.” He petulantly ate the sweet.
Donna rolled her chair over next to him to pat the top of his left thigh, feeling his bony knee through the stylish fabric. “I’m sorry. But it is your life. Who’s fault is it if it’s depressing?”
“What are you talking about?” the Doctor plead in a high-pitched voice. “I’m very happy! I’m always going on holiday and va-cay, it’s just that Death and Chaos have it in for me.”
“It can’t be all bad luck.”
“It’s not. I just told you, they hate me.”
“Death and Chaos, who are people, hate you personally.”
“Wellll, I suppose it could just be business. Or one of those sexual tension things where two people quibble because they’re hiding their feelings for each other.”
“You’re a loony.”
“Open your eyes once in a while, temp girl.”
Simultaneously, they ate a jelly baby (Donna having stolen one from the bag in the Doctor’s lap).
“What I’m trying to get at, Martian-boy, is that you always sabotage yourself! Take Martha, for instance.” Donna made a very Martha gesture with her next jelly baby. “You’re fond of her, she likes you, I figure you could’ve made a go of it.”
“Now who’s the loony?”
“Or that Sarah Jane lady. Why don’t you just pop back to the eighties and shag her like a minx?”
“Might create a paradox,” the Doctor said in defensive exasperation, resting his chin on his hand and his elbow on his arm-rest.
Donna bonked her forehead. “Might create a pair of orgasms, more like. You’re a Time Lord! Just think of the last time you were happy and go nuts!”
“The last time I was happy?” The Doctor thought about it, then looked over at Donna. Her cheeks were stuffed with jelly babies.
“What?” she asked with her mouth full, before swallowing and reaching for another candy from the Doctor’s sack. “Oh. Is that a sonic screwdriver in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”
The Doctor crossed his legs. “I’m always happy to see you,” he scoffed affably, but firmly. “That didn’t come out right.”
“You fancy me, you horrible sneak!”
“I do not! We Time lords don’t go in for that sort of thing; we have looms!”
“Looms,” Donna repeated, folding her hands in front of her face.
“Yes! And you lot we find quite silly, with your tallywhackers and your va-jay-jays and your errrooooooogenous zones…” He waved his hands as he trailed off, as if he could capture the absurdity of the human mating ritual with jazz hands.
“I’m not wearing a bra.”
The Doctor’s eyes leapt.
“Hah, you looked!”
“I was curious!”
Donna cupped her breasts and jiggled them. “You wanna sink your teeth into them like they were two big Christmas hams!”
“No!”
“You want to nuzzle them like they were two fluffy puppies licking your face!”
“That’s a lie!”
“You wanna put your dick betwixt my girls and titty-hump them until you come on my face!”
”…that was just nasty,” the Doctor opined sourly, screwing up his face in an effect to seem neither interested nor overly disgusted, but mostly ending up looking as if he had just sniffled a sneeze.
Donna took this for Gallifreyan arousal. “It’s your fantasy, you sick bugger.”
The Doctor jumped to his feet, spilling jelly babies all over the floor. “Me sick? I’m not the one who kissed me in the middle of a poisoning!”
Donna jumped up as well, getting in his face as best she could when she came up to about his chin. “I’m not the one who got off on it!”
“Yes you were and I can prove it! Quick, kiss me like I were dying of cyanide poisoning!”
On later reflection, Donna might’ve just kissed him as if he were dying of arsenic poisoning or even just lead poisoning.
The Doctor cried foul, pointing a betrayed finger at her face. “That wasn’t it, it was more forceful! I thought you were going to eat my head!”
“It was the exact same kiss, you nostalgic bastard! If anything, you were even more of a cold fish!”
“Cold fish!” the Doctor shouted, feeling some allowances should be made for death-throes and whatnot.
“Sushi,” Donna told him in her chilliest tone.
“Oh yeah?”
He kissed her in a way that was in no way, shape, or form the kiss of a cold fish.
It took a while.
“You still need to bulk up… scrawny little alien man,” Donna said when she caught her breath. “Lift some weights…”
“Is that your way of saying you want to be on top?” The Doctor asked, bounding back and forth on his heels in that aggrandizingly (to Donna) self-pleased way of his.
She slapped his face. “Of all the cheek!”
He slapped her ass. “I’ll take that one.”
And they shot the breeze for a while longer.
