CONVERSATIONS IN CONFIDENCE
A/N: Very EXTREMELY light bondage here, not enough to warrant a warning in my opinion. Just a bit of character exploration my cowriter (thagrrrl79) and I did. Enjoy. :)
There was something almost voyeuristic about standing in the shadows and watching her. Not that his thoughts were anything less than chaste. Not initially, anyway. It was the way she smiled that made him pause and stare. The way her fingers caressed the fabric of the clothes on the rack, feeling the texture and appreciating the workmanship before she tried them on.
In some of the outfits, she looked positively gorgeous. In some, quite curious. She didn't seem to be looking for anything in particular, just a way to pass the time while they took a leisurely route to New Earth. And she certainly seemed to be enjoying herself, trying on clothes from all across the universe - designed for male and female, young and old. She slipped them on, modeled and spun, smiled, and reached for the next.
And then, finally, she paused. Standing in front of one of a thousand racks full of clothing, she paused and stroked her hand slowly along the fabric of the cloth in front of her. Then, with a quiet hum of interest, she stepped closer to bury her face in it. He craned his neck to see what had caught her attention, but she was too far away for him to tell. So he waited.
A moment later, she returned to the mirror with her find, and he smiled slightly as he recognized it. Pulling the velvet coat carefully from the hanger, she hung the rest of the outfit on the back of the chair before slipping her arms into the sleeves and pulling it up around her. It didn't fit right, but she didn't care. With a smile, she buried her face in the collar again and breathed in deep. And finally, the Doctor couldn't stand in the shadows anymore.
He stepped forward quietly, and she jumped with a startled gasped as she caught his reflection in the mirror. Spinning around and clutching the waistcoat tightly over her chest, she blushed as he came closer. "I didn't see you."
"I know." He smiled warmly at her as he came close, and kissed her lips gently but briefly before whispering, "It suits you, I think."
The blush faded as she returned his smile. "Really?"
"Mmm hmm." His smile turned more mischievous as looked her up and down, then he lowered his head a fraction. "Though I don't think it quite goes with the rest of the outfit."
"Hmm..."
His hand lightly and ever-so-casually brushed the loose, brightly colored skirt left over from her last outfit. Stepping past her, he pulled up a chair next to the mirror and sat down, reclining comfortably.
She lifted the hem of the bright, almost neon glowing skirt, fluffing it out as she looked down at it. "It is rather yellow, isn't it?"
"Definitely does not match that green."
"Well, I don't think your pants are going to fit me."
She smirked at him and he answered her smile.
"I don't think so either."
Turning away, her eyes scanned the racks, looking for something more suitable. They landed on a more subdued skirt. By the style, he guessed that it had probably been one of hers when she first started traveling with him. Pulling it off the rack, she looked around and frowned.
"I thought there was a privacy screen in here."
"What for?" he asked innocently.
"To change behind."
He studied her with amusement, but said nothing. He'd fucked her on the floor of the control room not two hours ago; what need was there for modesty? He was amused by both the thought, and the way it formed words in his mind. Where had he learned to think like that? It was the kind of thing Lucie Miller might have said in a particularly forthright mood, and the kind of thing he would've told her was crude and distasteful. But, crude and distasteful though it may have been, it was honest and more akin to what he meant than any other description. It just didn't fit to say he'd made love to her on the hard, cold floor. And then on the steps... and then on the console...
"You could use that rack of clothes if you like," he suggested, nodding off to her right. "Though given that I've been watching you try on clothes for the past twenty minutes, I can't imagine what purpose a privacy screen serves."
"Twenty minutes!" She playfully swatted him with the skirt in her hands. "And you're just now offering fashion advice?"
"Well, you were doing fine on your own. You didn't need my advice."
She rolled her eyes before holding the skirt up to her waist, tipping her head as she studied herself in the mirror. "So does this one match better?"
"Possibly. Although..."
She raised a brow. "Although?"
"If you're going to play dress up in my old clothes..."
He met her eyes as he gestured her closer, sitting forward. After only a moment's hesitation, she stepped closer, and he slipped his hands inside the waistcoat, pulling her closer. The soft sound of her laughter made him smile as he leaned forward and set a soft, gentle kiss on her stomach, just above her navel.
"I get the feeling that you're more interested in taking my clothes off than putting new ones on," she mused, sliding her fingers through his hair.
"You might be right."
He felt along the top edge of the skirt, gently hooking and pulling both it and what she wore beneath it slowly down her legs. She drew in a slow breath as the cool air hit her skin. But he left a trail of warm, patient kisses from her stomach and down in a straight line over her abdomen.
"Doctor?"
"Yes, Charley?"
"Did you want to... go somewhere else?"
He glanced up at her, genuinely curious. "No. Why?"
She bit her bottom lip, half smiling at him. "Well, as exciting as it might be to christen every room in the Tardis with our quite frankly amazing sex, I think sooner or later we might want to consider some privacy. And a comfortable bed."
"It's the Tardis, Charley," he reminded with a smile. "There's no place more private. Besides, I didn't say anything about sex."
He stood as the skirt fell in a heap at her feet, and moved behind her, pulling her hair aside as he dropped his head to whisper in her ear.
"I just want to take your clothes off."
She laughed tightly, that tense, "refuse to let you see how anxious I am" laugh she did when she was in over her head. But she didn't pull away as he kissed the side of her neck.
"Why in the seven galaxies would you want to do that?" she managed. "Besides, it's nothing you haven't seen before."
He wondered if those words were actually meant for him, or if they were merely reassurance for herself. Pushing gently, he turned her until she faced the full length mirror, then looked up, meeting the eyes of her reflection. He smiled, took the skirt from her hand, and tossed it onto the chair he'd been sitting on before slipping his fingers inside the front of the coat and parting it slowly, an inch at a time.
"How about... simply because you're beautiful," he whispered with a smile.
Her eyes never left his as he divested her of the coat, breath catching in her throat as his fingers ghosted over the thin, silky camisole. "It's been a long time since I've felt beautiful, Doctor."
"Well, I'll have to fix that."
Holding the coat over his arm, he slid his hands up her sides, beneath the loose undershirt, and lifted it slowly. He stripped her from the waist up just as smoothly as he'd done from the waist down, and she shivered slightly as she crossed her arms instinctively.
"Don't," he said softly.
She raised a brow, still watching him in the mirror. "Don't what?"
Still holding his coat over one arm, he used the other hand to caress lightly over her hands, and pull them down, opening her to his gaze. She swallowed hard, but didn't resist.
"There, see?" he whispered. "Beautiful."
His fingertips brushed over the peak of her breast, light and teasing to awaken her nerves. Her lips parted naturally, drawing in deeper, slower breaths as his touch wandered. After a long moment of silent exploration, he held the coat for her to slip her arms back into. Curious, she slowly put the coat back on, watching him with wary curiosity. She trusted him; he knew that. But she didn't know what to expect, and uncertainty had been the biggest threat to her life in the past few years.
He kissed the side of her neck once more - quick and closed - then sat back down, reclining again with a smile. She really was beautiful. And her 'shy and nervous but determined not to let it show' look reminded him of all the reasons he loved her. His voice was light and playful as he addressed her. "That's much better. Turn around for me, Charley. Let me see how it looks."
She looked down at herself and blushed slightly. Self-consciously, she pulled the jacket closed before doing a slow turn, fully aware of how much was still exposed.
"Hmm." He studied her with interest before continuing gently. "I think it's missing something."
"Pants, perhaps," she suggested. "And a shirt?"
He chuckled, and held out a hand for her, palm up. "Come here."
Clasping both sides of the jacket with one hand, she took his with the other and let out a squeak of surprise as he pulled her into his lap. He studied her for a moment, fingers wandering lightly over her thigh, over the edge of the jacket. Then he smiled.
"I know what it needs."
"What?"
He reached behind her, to the rest of the outfit that he'd once worn. It was all there, on the hanger, and he found what he was looking for without difficulty. Smiling at her, he held up his cravat and she raised a brow curiously.
"The only question is," he said quietly, "how to wear it."
She laughed. "I can't say that I've ever tried to put one on. I'm not even sure I'd know how. But I'm pretty sure I'm going to need a shirt, first."
"Not necessarily. You could wear it like this..."
He raised a hand up, above her head, and gently wrapped the wide strip of silky fabric around her head, covering her eyes. He held it behind her head until he heard her breath catch, and knew she understood the significance.
"Oh," she whispered.
"Or..." He gently unwound the strip and lowered it, gathering both of her hands in her lap and wrapping it around and between them, effectively tying her wrists together. "You could wear it like this."
She didn't answer, but her eyes sparked with excitement. He smiled as he noticed it and leaned in closer, pressing his lips against her ear to whisper, "Or we could take it to bed and I could use it to fix your arms and legs to the four corners of my bed. What do you think, Charley? How would you like to wear it?"
"You're the one giving fashion advice. You tell me."
He tipped his head forward to nuzzle her, nose to nose. "Play with me, Charley," he whispered softly. "Have fun with me."
She smiled. "What sort of game did you have in mind?"
He tipped his head forward to nuzzle her, nose to nose, and smoothed a hand up her thigh, from her knee all the way to the bottom of the coat and then, slowly, underneath it. "I've spent a very long time thinking about all the things we could do... in the privacy of the Tardis and beyond."
"Beyond?"
"That's what I said."
She smiled coyly, eyes flicking to his lips before meeting his again. "What sort of things?"
"You first."
She blinked, confused and caught off guard by the sudden shift in the conversation. "What?"
He traced his fingertips lightly along her skin, just beneath the edge of the coat. "I shared my fantasies with you ages ago. A number of them, anyway." He drew his gaze up, from his wandering hand to her face, her lips, her eyes. "You never did tell me yours..."
Her eyes went wide, cheeks suddenly flushing with color before she answered him with a high, tight voice. "My fantasies?"
He chuckled at the way her voice cracked. Wherever she had been, whatever experiences - sexually or otherwise - she might have had while running from one side of the universe to the other to escape the Viyrans, she was still at her core an Edwardian girl. And the blush in her cheeks reminded him of that fact. She knew how to play the game now - probably better than he did if her "take charge" attitude in the control room was any indication. But how much of it was an act? How comfortable was she really - with him and, more importantly, with herself? His curiosity over what might have changed and what still remained the same was insatiable.
"Are you going to try and tell me you're far too innocent to have ever entertained fantasies about me?"
"Um..."
He smiled and pulled at her lower lip playfully. "About us..."
Charley swallowed and shifted slightly. The blush was creeping down her neck, all the way to her chest. She was trying to feign indignance, but he could tell she was having some difficulty. "I am far from innocent, Doctor. And of course I've had fantasies about us. It's just..."
He nuzzled her gently. "Just what?"
"It's just..." She sighed. "Oh, it's silly."
"Tell me." He parted her thighs slightly with his hand, rubbing his thumb on the soft skin on the inside of her knee. He moved up an inch at a time, towards the bottom of the coat. "Silly or not, I want to hear it."
Her lips parted slightly, breaths coming in slow pants, as his hand inched further north. It took her a moment to respond. "It's just that, compared to your fantasies, mine are really quite boring."
He shrugged. "So tell me your 'quite boring' fantasies."
He slid his cheek against hers and pressed his mouth to her ear as she hesitated.
"Tell me what you thought of on those cold, lonely nights," he teased in a quiet whisper. "Alone in the dark, with your own hands under the blankets."
"Doctor!" she cried, shocked.
The blush was back in force. He could feel her skin warm under his lips, and he chuckled quietly. "Is that denial I hear?"
"I... well, no! Of course not." She ducked her head, pulling away slightly. "It's just not something I ever expected you to know about, let alone bring up."
"Know about?" He laughed. His fingers had reached the top of her legs, the warm place where they joined, and he teased lightly, barely touching her. She gasped. "Charley, I had classes on the sexual behaviors of every known race in the universe. Humans were top of the list; you lot are everywhere. Can't go around looking like one of you and not understanding what goes on down here," watching her eyes, he slid two fingers inside of her heat, "when you look at me..."
He withdrew his hand, slid an arm behind her, and tucked his other underneath her legs to support her as he moved forward, off the chair, lowering to the floor. Once she was settled, he ducked out from under her joined arms and guided them gently above her head. The coat parted just an inch, and he left it that way as he smiled down at her. She met his gaze, and gave him a coy half-smile, biting the edge of her lip.
"Don't suppose I could distract you with some mind-blowing sex?"
He raised a brow. It was curious to him that having sex was easier for her than talking about it. Using any form of logic he knew, it should've been the other way around. "Tell me," he whispered.
She pouted slightly. "Fine! But no laughing."
"Why would I laugh?"
She sighed and glanced up over her head at her hands, stretched on the floor above her. "I suppose you're going to keep those up there until I answer you."
"Maybe longer. I haven't decided." He tipped his head with amusement. "Unless of course you'd like them to rest somewhere lower while you tell me about all the things you'd like me to do to you."
She gave him a brief glare, and he smiled as he supported himself on his bent elbow and lowered his other hand to part her legs slightly, letting the cool air kiss her wetness. "Tell me," he invited again.
"I don't know what to say," she admitted with just a hint of that whingy voice. "We've already done so much..."
He laughed. "We've hardly -"
"I said no laughing!"
He swallowed his laughter and nodded seriously. "Right. Sorry."
She gave him a brief glare, then sighed. "Outside, the shower, the console room... all done."
"Outside is pretty vague..."
She was quiet for a long moment, eyes out of focus as she lost herself in thought. "There is one scenario I keep going back to," she finally admitted.
He rubbed his thumb back and forth gently, but didn't move his hand from its safe place on her thigh. "Go on."
"We were outside, in a wooded area, no idea where. You were in your old outfit, of course."
He smiled quietly, encouragingly. He would've been surprised if he'd been wearing anything else in her fantasy. In spite of the fact that he'd dressed for the period at least half the time they had gone out, this was how she'd known him best. His eyes drifted over the coat she was wrapped in, and he smiled.
"It was dark, but there was firelight. And it was safe. No one around. Even the Tardis was... somewhere far away." She paused to look at him, but he didn't flinch, watching her intently. "And there were these... soft, silky vines."
He was still wracking his brain for what planet in what galaxy could provide soft, silky vines when her fingers against the side of his face startled him back to the present. "Stop that," she whispered.
He blinked, startled. "Stop what?"
"You wanted to hear this. So just listen."
He smiled softly, and kissed her fingers lightly. "Sorry."
She smiled back, and stretched her arms above her head again, shifting her weight a bit to get more comfortable. As he watched her, he couldn't help but notice how much she was relaxing - slowly but surely. Drawing in a slow, deep breath that seemed to make her whole body rise and fall, she closed her eyes and smiled softly.
"I was blindfolded. Cool breeze, warm fire cackling... I couldn't see you, but I could feel you. Close. Your hands touching me everywhere."
Her breathing was growing heavier. The sight of her, naked from the waist down and wrapped in his old coat, legs parted and chest heaving, was more than enough to turn him on. He teased her mouth with his, lingering there, just out of reach. Then, slowly, he parted her lips with his and kissed her deeply, drinking in her soft moan before he pulled away, his hand moving slowly upward.
"And what did I do to you while you were blindfolded beside the campfire?"
Her closed eyelids fluttered slightly. "You had me sit against this tree," she whispered. "Tied my hands behind it with those soft vines. They were soft, but they were strong. They didn't break."
Her eyes remained closed as he withdrew his hand from her thigh and sat up, shrugging his shoulders out of his leather jacket. "Like a prisoner?"
She smiled. "I suppose so, yes."
Silently, he stripped off his boots, socks, shirt.
"You told me to be silent. And you were quiet. I couldn't hear you. But somehow I knew you were sitting by that fire just watching me, sitting there naked and waiting."
He unzipped his jeans, pushed them down, kicked them off, and then moved over her slowly. Someday, they would actually make it to a bed instead of doing this on the floor of the Tardis in one room or another. He smiled. That wouldn't be today. Running a hand down her side, he dropped his head to whisper in her ear.
"Did you like being my prisoner?"
"Yes."
"Alright, then, tell me this." He drew her earlobe between his teeth, pulling hard, just shy of pain. But his hands moved gently, slowly over her body, taking the time to appreciate every inch of her soft skin. "Was I a kind and gentle warden?"
She bit her bottom lip and whimpered. "As kind as any captor could be."
"And was that what you wanted?"
His hand moved down to her hip, parting her legs with his. Her hips pressed up against him instantly, but he pulled back. He was hard, more than ready for her, but he wanted to hear the end of the story, too. He wanted to fuel it, to see what she would tell him in those few seconds of complete inhibition.
"Slow, intimate lovemaking while tied to a tree?" He laughed softly, gently. "I must be missing something."
"You were kind," she said again. Then she opened her eyes, looking up at him with fiery intensity. "Mostly."
"Mostly?"
"Well, you didn't hurt me. You would never..."
Staring up at him, she lost the rest of her words. He watched her, filled with a kind of curiosity he could genuinely say he had never felt before. This woman, this enigma, whom he loved more than breath itself. He could've plunged into her mind and found the words she couldn't say. But something about this, something about watching her as she consciously and willingly bared herself to him, was without a doubt the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
She swallowed hard, and lowered her eyes. "We... We didn't make love against the tree."
"Why not?"
For a moment, she hesitated, her hips shifting unconsciously from the memory. He was hard, and he let her feel that against the warmth and wetness between her legs. But he didn't try to enter her, and he didn't match her unconscious thrusts as she lifted her hips toward him.
"I don't know," she admitted, her brow furrowing slightly as if she really couldn't come up with a good reason.
"What did we do?"
But the spell was broken by her confusion, and she blushed again as she looked away, her confidence injured. "The same thing we've done a dozen times before..."
No. Not the same thing. It was never the same thing twice - not with her. She was new and different and more intense every time. His smile grew as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Did I lie between your legs, Charley," he breathed. "My mouth against your sex, kissing and licking and tasting you?"
Her breathing hitched again, and she arched her back just slightly. "It... yes..."
He pressed his tongue to the soft pressure point behind her ear, thoroughly enjoying the images and excitement in his own mind just as much as he was enjoying the sound of her deeper breathing and the push of her hips against him.
"Or was it pleasure like..." He pulled back slightly and positioned himself at her entrance before sliding deep inside of her with one long, smooth push. "... this?"
She whimpered needfully, breathlessly, as she dug her heels into the floor and met his thrust. "Doctor..."
The pleasure of being completely surrounded by her warmth was indescribable. He groaned, letting his eyes roll back and his body fall into a slow, instinctive rhythm that built with every thrust - him and her, soft and hard, human and Gallifreyan. It was such an appalling, disgraceful notion that it made him smile. He had never felt like a rebel as much as he did in that moment. And he had never felt so alive.
Wrapping her legs around his waist, she opened her eyes again, seeking his out. She swung her arms up, looping her still-conjoined hands around his neck, and pulled him down, instantly parting her lips as they touched. He claimed her mouth, probing deeply as he moved with her, perfectly synchronized, hearts pounding against each other, bodies locked the way they had always been meant to be.
He could feel the wave of pleasure building already, and he broke the kiss to bury his face in her neck as he thrust harder, faster into her. He could feel the sweat breaking out on the back of his neck, the way it slickened their skin wherever they touched. Sliding one hand inside of the coat she was still wearing, he closed a hand possessively over her breast, pinching and teasing and pulling.
Hot kisses on his neck and shoulders, nails in his back... Her teeth found sensitive pressure points and her legs tightened around his waist, pulling him deeper. He moaned, a sound of complete abandon from somewhere deep inside of himself. The feel and sound and sight of her fall into ecstasy was more than enough to trigger his own. He held her tight, kissing her as if his life depended on it. And then, finally, release. It swept through him from the top of his head to the soles of his feet, consuming every fiber of his being, filling him with her as he filled her with his essence. He kissed her again, slowly and deeply, as they both eased down. Then, with a final shudder of pleasure, he dropped his head against her shoulder and laughed. And laughed, and laughed, and laughed...
*X*X*X*
"Doctor?"
Lying still and warm beneath the blankets on a mattress that was much softer than the wardrobe floor, the Doctor wasn't entirely sure if he was awake or asleep. Nevertheless, he offered a vague, "Hmm?" to Charley, just in case he hadn't been imagining it.
"In my dream," she whispered, "blindfolded by the campfire..."
He opened his eyes slowly and looked at her. She was lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling, dark hair fanned out around her. It was going to take a while to get used to that dark hair. Maybe she'd let it grow out and be blonde again. She was beautiful no matter how she wore her hair, but he really did prefer the lighter tones. They made her skin look healthier, less pale.
Drawing in a slow, deep breath, he closed his eyes again, listening with as much interest as he could manage when he was so tired and contented. "Mmm hmm?"
"You made love to me," she whispered, "over and over again. And I couldn't see you but I could... feel you. Almost taste you. Not with..."
She trailed off with a sigh of frustration, and he opened his eyes again to see her glaring at the ceiling, frowning at the complexity of dreams.
"It wasn't just with these five senses, Doctor. It was... different. You were inside of me and it was like..."
"Like what?" he asked, interested.
But she sighed as she shook her head. "I can't even describe it. But I felt... I remember thinking... this is so intimate. So... oh, I don't know." She turned and looked at him, brow furrowed. "But it was beautiful and it was... secret."
He watched her for a moment, then raised a hand to brush her hair back from her face. "I think I know what you mean."
"Do you?" She laughed slightly. "I'm not so sure I do."
He smiled back at her. Then, with a deep, cleansing sigh, he turned onto his back and gathered her in his arms, guiding her head to his chest and wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders. He took a few breaths, and found himself staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom, reflecting on his own deep and quiet thoughts.
"I should check on Julia," Charley whispered.
"I've got an alarm on her door so that if she goes wandering, I'll know. But I think the chances are very good that she's still asleep."
"An alarm will scare her."
"Not this kind of alarm."
He didn't elaborate any further, and she didn't ask. She simply snuggled up closer to him and slid a leg over his, turning her head to kiss his shoulder before settling comfortably against it. He breathed in deep and slow as his fingers stroked her arm absently.
"I realized something about myself today," he admitted softly.
"Did you?" Now it was her turn to express interest, and his turn to struggle for the proper words.
"I realized that... something's changed. The way I think about myself, my people... It's different now."
"What do you mean?"
He sighed. "It's hard to explain. It's as if... I'm glad that they would disapprove."
She lifted her head and gave him a funny look. "Well, you never did seem to care too terribly much what they thought."
"No, but..." He hesitated, and sighed again. "All my lives, I've been a renegade. I've been disgusted with them, angry with them, dismissive... Sometimes I couldn't care less about them. But I've never felt like this, as long as I can remember."
"Like what?"
He paused, gathering his thoughts. "When I imagine the horror and disgust that they would feel if they knew the sort of things we do and say, how low and debased I've allowed myself to become - because that's completely how they would see it... When I think about the disapproving looks they would give and the rejection and mockery..." He trailed off, letting himself picture all of it. Then he smiled, and glanced at her. "I think I actually enjoy it."
"Enjoy it?" she asked, confused.
"I'm not like them, Charley. I've known that for a long time, but now... It's more than that. There's something almost thrilling about the fact that they're disgusted by me and all that I stand for."
"And what do you stand for?"
"Freedom," he answered quickly. Then, looking at her, he smiled as he raised a hand to caress the side of her face. "Love. Expression."
She smiled back, nuzzling against his hand.
"I'll never change what I am, biologically. I'll always be Gallifreyan." He traced his thumb across her lips gently. "But when I saved you from the flames of the R-101 - something I never should've done by every rule and moral instilled in me from the time I could walk - I made a decision that day, without even realizing it. I decided to be something other than I was meant to be. And when that time scoop took us back to Gallifrey, before Zagreus, before the Divergent Universe... I decided to be proud of it. And I am. And the more disgusted I imagine them to be, the more proud I am. I think now - here, with you - I take almost as much pleasure in the fact that my people would be thoroughly disgusted with me as I do in what we're actually doing."
"So what you're telling me is you're a rebel," she summed up, smiling knowingly at him. "Not just a renegade, but defiantly proud of it."
"Maybe I am," he admitted, thoughtfully. "Maybe I've always been, and just couldn't bear to admit it. But I think now..." He smiled as he moved his hand back to her hair and tipped her head closer, leaning in to kiss her brow. "I'm happier now than I've ever been in all my lives."
She smiled, and hummed contentedly as she pulled away, lifted her head, and kissed his lips softly. "I'm glad to hear it, Doctor." She nuzzled him, and they smiled against each other as he stroked her hair gently. "Because I'm definitely happier than I've ever been."