Victoria could only sit and stare at the man who had crash-landed on her lawn, introduced himself as 'the Doctor,' and now sat in her living room telling her precisely how she smelled.

"Oh, not to worry, dear, it's quite all right," the Doctor said quickly, it seeming to dawn on him that perhaps he had said something out of the ordinary. "I certainly meant no offense – I rather like peach pies and they are best when fresh-baked."

This time, all she found herself capable of doing would be to let her mouth hang open, her hand falling away from her robe out of sheer 'what the ever-loving FUCK?' She tilted her head at this odd, odd man in the fez, who gazed back at her with this expression of something like wonder. He kept staring like he had never seen a female of the human species before. For some reason, he had not changed his position, still leaning in like he had some sort of secret to tell her.

"Perhaps I should go back to thanking you for letting me come in," he continued, his voice softening and not seeming quite so manic. His eyes scanned her form. "It does just now occur to me that it must have been dreadfully cold to you out there."

He stretched a hand out, touching the hem of her bathrobe – it fell only to her knees even when she was sitting down – and traced the small green shapes on the lavender fleece.

"Are these… turtles?" he asked her, a sort of different smile on his face.

Victoria nodded.

"Uh-huh…" she said softly, feeling not quite wrong-footed and more like she had in the seconds before she received her very first kiss.

What was it about this man that had the ability to induce the visitation of buried memories as though the events themselves had happened just moments ago? The one with the Christmas angel had been sweet enough, innocuous. Remembering exactly how she felt just before getting her first kiss, however, brought back all that went with that. Butterflies went dancing about in her digestive system, her face felt hot, and she couldn't resist the urge to stare at and play with her own hands. Long, pale fingers encircled them, causing her restless fidgeting to cease. When she made eye contact with him, it seemed to surprise them both. She broke it quickly. He went back to staring round the room, though his hand did not leave the hem of her bathrobe. Something about those little cartoon turtles made both his hearts feel a touch warm.

Many moments passed with relative silence between them. The mad man who had come with the box pulled the strange vibrator-looking thing out of his jacket once more. It lit up and produced a few whirring sounds as he gestured round the room with it. This time, Victoria followed the path the Doctor traced with the sonic screwdriver. She visited the memories, felt the feelings again, in every photograph, still wondering how any of this had even happened. It kept occurring to her, like a small bird landing on her head, that she had invited this crazy guy into her house. So far, really, all he had done was tell her she smelled like pie and get very interested in her bathrobe. The whole thing with the photos and the memories and the feelings, well… that had to be her overthinking of things, right?

Wait a second, she thought, when had he ended up so close to her on the loveseat? She could smell him now, the scent of some sort of smoke and a hint of something else warm and good. Biting her lip lightly, she tried to surreptitiously scoot a tiny bit closer to the gentleman. If he noticed, he at least pretended not to, continuing to let his eyes dart round the room. Now that the excitement of discovering a crazy person on her lawn had subsided, Victoria felt her headache coming back. She shifted round a little and found the bit where the couch cushion dipped sort of. Her head came to rest on the Doctor's shoulder – if asked she would say she was sorry. The headache implored her to close her eyes and she did so. A brief smile accompanied the realization that she could feel the warmth of his neck on her nose, the one bit of her always cold.

"I'm so cold," she whispered, mostly to herself.

Before she really knew what was happening, his hand found her cheek and his lips were on hers. She did feel a sensation that had not set upon her in a very, very long time. It hadn't been apparent if he smoked – any smoker would have needed one after that crash – but he tasted like it. Perhaps it was just something about him, maybe the same source of the scent of him. Rather more shyly than had become her style, she let her hand come up and thread into his hair. His tongue slid so very carefully along the seam of her lips, asking rather than demanding entrance. Smiling against him and feeling her common sense jump right out of her head, Victoria gladly granted it. She had never kissed a smoker who tasted sweet (she couldn't tell if he did or not) but he certainly was. The Doctor's arms moved around her and held her close, sort of tilting the both of them back on the couch.

When he pulled back, she decided she didn't really want to ask why that just happened, nor did she want to question why she had not stopped it. The pounding thought of 'normal girls do not do things like this' had petered away to a sort of mild thumping. It didn't matter much anymore, especially since Victoria had started to wonder if she would remember any of this tomorrow. She simply lay back in his arms, marveling that he hadn't tried anything else. The neck line of her bathrobe lay totally untouched and the hem stayed right where it was. This… Doctor… allowed a few moments for her to recover, gazing at her almost expectantly. His fez now sat cockeyed on his head.

"Are you still cold?" he asked her, running one hand through her long, wet hair. "I can fix that, you know…"

A whole slew of questions tumbled through Victoria's mind, but somehow none of them made it out of her mouth. That being the case, they probably weren't worth paying all that much attention to anyhow. All she reasonably could think of at the moment was how she wanted that to happen again… and yes, she was still cold. So, she nodded up at him, still looking rather bemused by the whole series of events this morning.

"It's all right," he said again, sounding as though he said this a lot. "I'm the Doctor."

She still had no fucking clue what that meant, what he was a Doctor of, or why he referred to himself in the infinitive, and she no longer gave a damn. Certainly, she didn't protest when he pulled her close again, this time kissing the side of her throat. His touch remained careful – not shy this round, yet still very delicate, as if he held something made of bone china. Even so, Victoria could clearly feel the strength he had in his arms, the effort it seemed to take to hold back. After a moment or two, he lifted his head to look at her, still studying her like a scientific curiosity. She reached up and traced his cheek bones with her long fingernails, causing him to shut his eyes and ever-so-slightly lean into it. The thrill that raced up her spine had her desiring to take him upstairs right this second! Those enigmatic eyes of his glinted with something that she could not translate.

"Doctor?" she ventured, unsure really of how to begin a conversation with him still, but enjoying for some reason addressing him as such. "How… why… you… um… is this?"

She could only stammer for the few seconds after that, falling silent.

"Well, I think the answer to that is…" he began, tilting his head at her as though in wonder. "I have time…"

Victoria couldn't fathom for the life of her why, but that made perfect sense. Yes, he had time – they both had time. She still had no idea why that just clicked, but it did. At the moment, though, she didn't really want to question much beyond that. The Doctor's lips came down on hers again, still careful, but now less… modest. He shifted her weight to one arm so that his free hand could trace the neck line of her bathrobe. She could somehow feel a sort of gleeful curiosity coming from him, as if everything he felt, he simply radiated like a light bulb. The only people who telegraphed their feelings on that level were either small children or crazy people. In her mind, she had already filed him under "totally bonkers" – this mad man who crashed a box onto her front lawn.

The Doctor's hand dipped under the turtle-printed bathrobe to find her bare shoulder, long fingers and square palms sliding over the soft ridge of bone. Her teeth scraped across her lower lip again, but he did not immediately divert his attention to her towel-covered breasts. He seemed fascinated by the feel of her skin. Coming from basically anyone else, seeing as she was unused to such a level of closeness, this would have been off-putting – even creepy. With the Doctor, though, it felt quite natural. His default state of being seemed to be one of exploration. A few more moments passed, the mad man gazing quite intently at what he was doing as he slid the shoulder of her robe away. Normally, she would have protested, but the action had almost certainly been non-sexual. Well… at least mostly…

"You are cold," he declared, running the backs of his fingers over her shoulder one more time as if to make sure he had drawn the correct conclusion. "And I must admit I feel somewhat responsible."

Well, yes, Victoria wanted to say, it was his doing – though she did get the feeling he had done so unintentionally and possibly indirectly – that she'd had to go outside in the cold in her bathrobe. But it seemed, now, to be neither here nor there, and besides, he'd gotten the message. Her next thought: could they maybe do this somewhere besides this rotten old loveseat? The damn thing, nice leather notwithstanding, reeked of at least two dogs.

"Well then," she cheeked him, grinning rather mischievously and seeing something like a spark of recognition in his eyes. "What are you going to do about it… Doctor?"

At that, he disentangled himself from her and rose from the loveseat. For one terrible-feeling moment, Victoria wondered if maybe she had just blown the whole thing. Maybe this was a drunken dream and she had just fallen off whatever she'd passed out on and awakened herself! Maybe she had imagined this whole thing and it was one of those dumb fantasies that ended too fast! Or… perhaps he had simply arisen to extend his hand to her like a gentleman. She composed herself as best she was able, also thinking vaguely 'when did I start panting?' Her knees, at least, remained properly pinned together, so she did, in fact, get up off the couch without flashing him. Hell, maybe he would have liked it, she thought belatedly, standing shakily and nearly falling against his side.

"Damn hangover knees," she grumbled to herself, inadvertently admitting to her previous night's overindulgence and still not discounting that as a possibility for causing this whole morning. "Sorry about that."

The Doctor smiled at her, the expression again one of confidence bordering on an ego.

"Think nothing of it," he responded graciously, his words and tone incongruous with his countenance. "Allow me to help you?"

Victoria looked at him, still a bit bemused, and tilted her head.

"Help me with what?" She righted herself, pulling herself away from his side and insisting upon standing on her own. "I've got this."

The Doctor raised his almost-nonexistent right eyebrow at her.

"One – no, you don't," he corrected her, still smiling quite amiably. "Two – upstairs, of course; it isn't decent to do this kind of thing on a couch."

Hazel-green eyes blinked back at him, a sardonic expression answering him.

"We're apparently doing… this," she started in feigned disbelief. "And you're worried about decency?"

At that, the Doctor let out a burst of rather gleeful laughter, causing Victoria to at the very least smile as well.

"Well, it would almost certainly be less comfortable for you to do… this… here," he remarked mischievously. "So, upstairs, is it?"

The mischief in his voice was infectious and Victoria took the Doctor's hand, taking the lead so that they found the correct bedroom. She smiled back at him as she led the way up the stairs, almost face-planting at the top of the staircase. Again, damn hangover knees, she thought, graciously allowing the Doctor to, of course, think he was helping her up. Her smile when she looked back at him again, said 'I meant to do that,' sort of like a cat tripping over furniture. The Doctor, in equal grace, only smiled, refraining from comment on her near-acrobatics.

They continued down the hall, Victoria surreptitiously checking her hair in the hall mirror and feeling her organs kind of squelch a bit – all that wet hair had gone a bit of everywhere. She reached up and tried to be discreet about moving some of it around. Her hair touched her tailbone when wet, so maybe discretion wasn't going to happen. The Doctor paused with her about halfway down the hall and, when she looked up at him quizzically, helpfully tucked a few strands behind her ear. For the first time in she couldn't remember when, Victoria found herself giggling like a schoolgirl. Somehow, the Doctor had taken the lead, that crazy lit-up green vibrator thing out again. It seemed that he already knew which bedroom was hers and that way, he went. This time, Victoria followed him.

The door shut behind him and the young lady squeaked in almost-protest as she found herself very suddenly off the floor. That same soft, smoky smell surrounded her – it took her that long to realize she was in the Doctor's arms. Immediately, she clacked her teeth together nervously again… her weight bothered her a bit too much for her to be comfortable with this. She squirmed a little, but the Doctor took it as enthusiasm and held her a bit tighter. At this, it didn't seem too bad to let her head rest on his shoulder just for a moment. Her bed remained in the condition she had left it in when she dragged herself out not even an hour ago. The covers fluffed up around her when he playfully dropped her on it, fluffing in ways she had only ever seen in Macy's Housewares commercials.

"Well, that was new!" she giggled, pulling her bathrobe back up round her – the belt had come loose and she definitely felt her towel come undone when she dropped. "I never have had that happen before!"

Letting his lanky frame hit the bed beside her, the Doctor looked over at her smiling face and tilted his head.

"You've never been carried to bed before, like a lady?" he asked bluntly – Victoria loved how, with his accent, he pronounced been the way it was supposed to be, with both E's. The Doctor's bemused, this-side-of-delighted expression fell away for a moment. "That's… sad."

A strange smile lit on Victoria's lips, she shook her head, and she turned on her side to face him.

"Doesn't matter," she told him, that smile still there as she reached out to take hold of his jacket and pull him in. "If this is going to happen, then let's have some fun!"

In an instant, the Doctor's hand closed round her wrist and pinned it down on the bed between them. Victoria looked startled – that happened very quickly. She stared at him with guarded eyes, wondering where this obviously-corkers fellow might go with this. For a long time, she had convinced herself that she'd been through so much that not much anymore could scare her. However, there was just enough insanity about this man to cause her a prickle of fear in the base of her spine. He had not let go of her, but a second look at his face gave her what she might call third thoughts.

"No, no, dear," he corrected, still not releasing his grip. "I firmly believe that life is entirely too short to go without new experiences."

For some reason, that remark coming out of him sounded both sad and snarky.

"I believe I am going to give you the experience of being bedded properly… like a lady," he continued, his voice turning almost ominous. "And I think I shall do so whether you like it or not."

Victoria pressed her knees together, not out of fear or modesty, but at the rising heat she felt instantaneously between her legs. Oh hell no, she thought. No way in hell was she giving up or giving in that easily! Okay, so by Dolly Parton's famous saying, maybe she was easy this morning, but there was zero chance of her giving it up cheap, so to speak. He would have to work for it!

"And what if I want to be on top?" she challenged him, frustrated to find that she could not break his grip one-handed. He seemed so… slight at first glance. "What then?"

The smile on the Doctor's face went from wondrous cheer at everything round him to something almost menacing.

"My dear, that is exactly the idea," he informed her in a voice that seemed to spill from his lips to her ears with the feel of velvet. "I am sure you understand…"

The way he practically purred those last words caused Victoria to squirm once more, still pinning her knees together as hard as she could. This did not go unnoticed by the mad man. He tucked his fingers into the front of her bathrobe and neatly tugged it to one side. Her towel did not quite fall away, held in place by the other half of the lavender, turtle-printed fleece – much to her relief! With her free hand, she attempted to hold the remainder of her decent cover in place. Her wet hair felt dreadfully cold against her one bare shoulder. The Doctor, on the other hand, did not seem to be greatly tolerant of her keeping that hold.

He finally did let go of her wrist and, surprisingly enough, she did not move her hand away from where he'd had it pinned. With his now-free hand, he reached out once more. This time, he took hold of the hand she used to keep her towel and bathrobe over her rather ample chest. His deep, dark eyes kept her hazel-green ones strangely entrapped as he worked. One at a time, he teased each of her fingers loose from its death-grip. However, when he turned her gently on her back, guided her hand to her side, and gently pinned it on the bed there, the towel and half-the-bathrobe stayed put.

"Not to worry," he said in response to the rather confused expression on her face. "I intend to take my time with you…"

Very slowly, so deliberately, he hooked his fingers under the remaining half of the bathrobe and as his lips found the warm skin where her neck and shoulder met, pulled that away. Victoria shivered at the chill of cold air against newly-bared skin, squirming at the Doctor's weight bearing slightly on her. That felt slightly new as well, she thought. His other hand traced the shoulder he had uncovered first, his palm warm against her. Next, his lips moved from where they had been down to where his hand had just pulled the purple fleece away. She gasped in surprise when his teeth grazed the point of her shoulder in a light nip.

"I think you liked that," he whispered to her, warm breath soft against her ear. "Shall I try that again?"

He lifted his head from her shoulder to capture her gaze once more, that same almost-menacing smile on his lips. Before she could answer, he returned to the side of her throat, lips and teeth playing havoc with the sensitive skin there. A moan spilled from Victoria's lips and she writhed beneath him, allowing space for him to entwine her in one arm. His other hand remained free to tangle in her wet curls, tilting her head back with gentle force so as to allow better access. Victoria's hands crept up his back almost shyly, something she hadn't felt in forever. Her long fingernails scratched against his tweed jacket, hands tightening as he bit a tiny bit harder. She gasped, smiled, and squirmed more, wondering if she would have a mark or two after this and deciding she wouldn't mind in the slightest.

"Hmm…" she half-hummed, half-moaned as she tilted her head away in invitation; she wanted him to do that again! "I do like that…"

At that, the Doctor pulled away and stood beside the bed, looking down at her. Victoria's eyes went wide in uncertainty – what had she done now? Slowly, he shrugged out of that tweed jacket and, instead of letting it drop, set it neatly upon a chair. Letting her squirm for a moment longer, he took his time in approaching the bedside again. The girl smiled at how he looked in his white shirt with the suspenders over it. He sat down with an uncanny grace and leaned over so that his lips almost touched her ear – just far enough away that she could feel his warmth. A soft whine escaped her lips at the realization that he held himself off enough not to touch her at all.

"Well then," he intoned right into her ear, voice husky and coming from deep in his chest. "A gentleman does as his lady wishes."

Easily enough, he turned and straddled her hips, still holding himself off her entirely. His hand threaded into her hair – the first contact he allowed her. He stopped her when she tried to reach up to him, holding her hand rather forcefully in place for just a moment. Gently, he settled his weight over her, now using his hips as well as his hands to keep her in place. This time, when his hand tangled up in her hair, it felt like he meant it! Victoria let out a keening cry as his hips and mouth pushed down upon her at the same time. His tongue trailed along the pulse point where her jugular vein throbbed wantonly beneath her skin already.

Determined to keep some control in this, Victoria struggled to get one of her legs out from under his, freeing it and wondering suspiciously if he had just let her do that. Demanding some say, she hooked her knee round him, using that leverage to thrust herself quite boldly against him. Considering his mouth stayed busy with her throat as he enjoyed the sounds she produced, the action stood. Her hands now clawed at his back through his shirt and she could feel him through his trousers, hard against her. Spreading her legs as best she could, she discovered the coarse fabric produced a delicious sensation against soft, wet skin. As both his hands twisted in her hair, she started to grind her hips against his, all of a sudden finding her moans muffled by his lips on hers. Now his tongue did dare to demand entrance and she let hers meet it in challenge.

Now, long fingernails threaded through the Doctor's hair. When his fez fell away to the side, it did get his attention. He pulled back to observe what had done so far. The girl's hair lay around her in damp waves, framing a blushing face that featured kiss-swollen lips. She only whined momentarily at the loss of his kiss, but then her sounds of pleasure continued. It took him a moment to figure out precisely what she was doing to make those noises. Her hips worked against his, leaving a wet place on the front of his trousers, and from what he could tell, she was close to bringing herself off! Part of him wanted to let her have it. The fact that she so obviously wanted it and hovered so close to that edge caused his cock to twitch. But that wasn't part of the game, now, was it?

"No, dear," he cooed in her ear, arching up so that he pulled away from the contact. It caused his own eyes to widen, the loss of warm, thrusting sensation. "A lady does not take…"

He hadn't been finished with that statement, but had to pause to redouble his efforts to keep her nicely pinned under him – she growled and writhed and seemed to be trying to bite him!

"… but a gentleman gives," he finished smartly, pushing his knee rather forcefully between her legs and letting her thrust just long enough, then frustrating her.

To prove his point, he brought one hand down out of her hair. Her bathrobe lay parted and her decency remained intact only by the corner of the pink towel that remained where it had been. Grinning at her in his original mischievous way, he leaned down and took that corner in his teeth. Victoria whined and turned her head to the side as his hair tickled her skin, then yelped at realizing what happened. She half-sat up and attempted to cover herself with her hands. No, no, thought the Doctor, now that wouldn't do at all… He held her hips down with his own, took her hands in his, and returned them to their places at her sides. His lips claimed hers again, the kind of kiss that let her know that – at least for the moment – he was in charge of this experience.

The towel was finally out of the way and he looked down to see, finally, what he had stumbled upon with this particular adventure. She was small and rather slim, though her trim waist did lead down to lovely hips and muscled thighs. He had always – even with as relative a term as "always" was to him – had this thing for a woman's legs. Maybe it couldn't exactly be defined as a fetish, but the attraction could not be ignored, and certainly hers did not leave a thing to be desired. Indulging himself before his lady only for a moment, he slid down the bed and allowed himself to take his time. Going slowly down from her hips, he let his hands glide over the swell of the muscles of her thighs. Victoria bit her lip and moaned in response, spreading her legs just a touch. He placed a sweet kiss on her hip bone before continuing downward. Her calves were shapely and her skin so incredibly smooth.

"Lovely," he breathed, now descending to nip just above her knee and letting his hands continue running over her skin. He seemed to be talking mostly to himself now. "You are so very lovely, my dear."

Victoria had certainly never had this sort of attention paid to her before! His hands were almost eerily soft, and the way he touched her made her feel shaky inside. He guided her knees a little further apart, his position relative to her in the bed giving her chills. Lying there in her rumpled bed with her legs spread to give him access, she could only anticipate now. His hands slid back up her calves one more time, coaxing her to bend her knees and spread open just a little wider. The air in the room chilled her softest skin, still wet from her earlier squirming on him. She heard him coo something that she couldn't quite make out and had not the presence of mind to ask for a repeat.

The first time his lips touched her there, she could only gasp – at first, out of surprise, but then in pleasure as it dawned on her how good this felt! Part of her, maybe the very back of her mind, still wondered what the hell was going on. His tongue slid up across that soft, smooth skin so, so slowly. Gently, he let a single finger find her entrance as he drew moan after moan from her. She was wet and had a lovely taste, he decided. An added bonus – she was tight. Another finger slid inside her, the tips of both digits finding the place inside her with a flourish. Victoria's eyes went wide, her body tightening on his fingers. When he started to move those fingers inside of her, she threw her head back and let out a long, loud "aaaah!" His tongue continued to tease her, just tracing round where she really wanted it – he listened to her pant and enjoyed her denial so incredibly much!

He couldn't decide if he wanted to give it to her just yet, and he definitely had time to keep her going for much longer. The Doctor just loved the sounds that this young woman made, the way she didn't bother at all trying to hold it in. Her hips attempted to rise off the bed, held fast by his hands, as she moaned so loudly he wondered if her neighbors next door might hear. In all the years he had lived, it never failed to dawn again upon him how lovely it was to make a woman make such noise. There came a unique feel of power, a power granted by giving, that came with the sound. So, he let his tongue just ghost over the one place where she really needed it. That contact earned him something sounding like a combination of another, deeper moan and an almost-scream. Victoria half-sat up, reaching her hands down to tangle in his hair – he couldn't tell whether it was to pull him closer or push him away.

"Now dear, why don't you tell me what you really want," he teased when he pulled back, leaving her writhing in his hands. "I couldn't quite tell."

When he looked up, he saw glittering hazel-green eyes half-closed and blazing back at him. Her breasts rose and fell most enticingly, reminding him that they had been neglected. Hmm, but there was time to go back and pay them proper attention… later, he decided. Victoria clenched her teeth briefly, released the grip to exhale a quick breath, and bit down again on her lip. A deep flush of red crept from her cheeks all the way down to the tops of those gorgeous breasts. All right, so the good Doctor could, in fact, be distracted. Well, the only way to deal with a temptation…