Oh look, I updated!
The wait was not from a lack of ideas, I assure you; it was a lack of time, and the way my plot bunnies decided to die out just when I was getting started. I have about three written in various stages of completion on my iPad and another two on my computer, and about five others floating around my head. This just so happens to be one I actually managed to complete just before going to work. Since I spent little time editing, I apologize for any mistakes.
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. Well, I was about to yesterday, and I was going to sign the papers of ownership and everything... but then I woke up.
On Jail Cells
He had promised her the planet Meridian in the year 290,483.
She got the planet Meridian, but the year 194,883.
He swore that the New Year celebration was the grandest show in the universe, and the Empress herself would be attending the celebration.
They met the Empress, but it wasn't on New Years, and there wasn't a celebration.
He vowed that the food that was provided was the best she would ever taste.
There was no food.
Instead, they had arrived in the middle of the Empress Tairanayet's Reign of Terror, unknowingly walking right into a war party, was arrested as spies, and thrown into the dungeons.
"Well, I got the last two numbers right," He had said as they were hauled off to the jail cell.
Rose, wearing a short red dress and black leggings, lamented the death of yet another outfit and wondered how well the jail cell was outfitted this go-round.
Though it was typical, really, Rose thought later as she leaned against the wall, trying to ignore the suspicious squeaking that sounded like rats. His piloting was awful, and they only landed where they wanted to be on the rare occasion. If earlier experiences hadn't confirmed it (alien tongues being translated in her head, the chiming whenever she asked a question, the way the console or wires would spark whenever the Doctor was doing something wrong in repairs or in flight), she would have realized from that alone that the TARDIS was a sentient being. She landed where she wanted to land, and that was that, the Doctor ignored. Provided no end of frustration for him, of course, but Rose liked to watch him arguing with his ship. Even if the conversation was one-sided to her, she filled in the blanks in her own mind, picturing a rather classy, if snarky and mischievous, woman in blue replying to him. This had made her giggle on numerous occasions, and the Doctor had sent her weird glances before abruptly stopping, realizing how ridiculous he sounded talking to thin air. She suspected the conversations were telepathic after that, but she didn't have a way of knowing.
The Doctor was currently pacing moodily along the opposing wall, jacket-less, as leather was apparently illegal as the Empress was allergic to it. She hoped they hadn't destroyed it, since she rather liked that jacket, and had a lot of fantasies involving it. Then again, the sight of the Doctor in his jumper with his sleeves rolled up wasn't that bad of a picture, either. She grinned, openly admiring the view, glad of the dark shadows that hid her.
He was apparently trying to sort out timelines, because his muttering revolved around a debate on a coup, protest, or a revolution. Something was going to happen on this day (or on this day next year or last year), nonetheless, but what (or would, or had) happened still wasn't clear to him.
"You know," she said, lightly, as his glare became more pronounced, "This cell isn't all that bad."
He stopped pacing, looking at her with his heavy frown still intact. "What?"
She propped one leg up, laying her arm across her knee. "Well, it is private, has a bed, a loo, and a window. We have room service"- she gestured at the tray that had been shoved through the door an hour ago, containing stale bread and a watery soup- "twenty-four-seven surveillance, and entertainment." She threw a loose pebble at a curious rat and watched it run off. "So all in all, not bad, although the décor could be better; a blanket, a rug, and maybe some curtains, and we're all set."
His look had changed from anger to incredulity to amusement. "I suppose so, yeah," He agreed. Crossing over to join her in the shadows, he sat down next to her- very, very closely- and said, "It is private"- his hand reached out to grab hers, his thumb stroking the back of her hand slowly-"We do have entertainment"-his face was close now, and she could feel his breath ghosting along her neck, and she shivered-"and we do have a bed." His tone was wicked, dark and sensual, and her hand tightened involuntarily in his. "The loo is a perk, I could care less about the window, the room service is downright lousy, and as for the surveillance . . ." He gave a chuckle, "If they don't wanna watch, they don't have to."
"That depends on what they're watching," she replied, a smirk tugging on her lips. "I don't see anything particularly entertaining."
"Think so, Rose Tyler?" He asked, shifting closer, his arms wrapping about her. His mouth was hovering over her jaw.
She didn't trust herself to speak, merely nodded. Feeling his smile, she fisted her hands into his jumper, turning her head to look at him. The fire in his eyes made her swallow, but she held his gaze, determined not to give in and show him just how much he was affecting her.
They stayed like that, hovering on the edge of something new and wonderful and exhilarating as much as it was terrifying. His eyes, blue and bright and sprinkled with stars, were the only things she could see in the shadows of the cell, the tiny window set far above either of their heads barely letting in the light from the giant moon. Outside, one of the guards shifted, his spear-like weapon clacking faintly against the floor. Somewhere a rat squeaked, but all these sounds were muted against the thundering of her heart and the whisper of her breath as it mingled with his, their faces oh so close but nearly close enough. Her senses are on overdrive, registering his every movement, touch, and sound; she noticed his eyes dart quickly down then up again, the pretty red dress she had donned earlier doing little to ward off the chill, and her black leggings the worse for wear. She felt his hands twitch, as if itching to travel upwards, or downwards, along her body, to pull her closer; the faint sound he made as she licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. She wanted, oh she wanted, but now she had a faint idea that he wanted, too. Leaning closer, Rose's eyes were tied to his, trying to show him that it was ok to let go, just this once.
He swallowed, and his eyes darted down and then up again. Grinning, Rose stuck her tongue out ever so slightly, and watched his eyes darken.
Then he was kissing her, at long last, and she sighed in appreciation. His arms tightened, and she willingly let herself get pulled closer, molding against his body. One of her hands gripped his head, the other his waist, and one shift was all it took to straddle him.
The guard outside their door moved again, but Rose couldn't care less. She had the Doctor against a wall, snogging him breathless, their arms wrapped around each other and glued to the spot. Her heart was beating faster than it ever had before, and her blood was singing in her veins she felt so alive. She had never felt like this before, and if this was only their first kiss… she shivered slightly, the possibilities flowing through her mind making her dizzy.
"Rose," he whispered, nuzzling her neck. "I…"
They jumped when the door banged open, and Rose flinched when she saw the Empress standing in the doorway. The Doctor, blinking, narrowed his eyes at Her Highness. "Do you mind?" He demanded. "I was in the middle of something important, here."
Rose squeaked and buried her face in his neck, trying to ignore what he just said and how it had made her insides dance a little. His arms tightened a bit possessively, seeing the way one of the guards were eyeing her, and sent him a glare that could curdle milk. The guard flinched, and then snapped to attention as the Empress spoke up, coolly. "You will tell us how you managed to get in here," she said, eyes glittering with the mad fire that fueled her insanity.
"You threw us in here," he replied sarcastically.
Her eyes narrowed, and Rose was faintly amused at the way her over-large ears flattened against her head like a cat's. "You will teach us how you managed to walk into my war room without alerting any of my guards, tripping any of my traps, and avoiding all the security cameras." The Empress's voice was calm, but the layer of ice in her words was poorly hidden. This lady didn't take no for an answer, apparently.
Rose felt the Doctor relax, and she knew that a plan was already forming in his mind. "Give me my jacket back," he replied, "and let us out of here, and I'll show you whatever you want."
The Empress regarded them for a moment. "Take the girl," she snapped, and the guards raced forward. Rose, not wanting to leave the rather comfortable position she was in, struggled as they hauled her up. The Doctor went with her, hell bent on defending her, slugging one guard in the jaw and grabbing Rose as she stumbled. The other grabbed his weapon, the point whipping up to rest against her throat faster than Rose could blink.
"It would be best if you cooperate, sir," the Empress said, smugly. "Or your pretty little girlfriend will be hurt."
Despite the severity of the situation, Rose couldn't help but notice that he didn't argue the word describing her. She certainly wasn't complaining, and if the way his eyes darted toward hers was any indication, she figured that he liked it as well.
If only they really were dating, she thought sadly.
Reluctantly, the Doctor let Rose be taken from him. "Give me my jacket," he growled.
Rose hoped it hadn't been searched. Besides the sonic and his TARDIS key, there were many items in those bottomless pockets that could potentially be used for harm under the control of someone like the Empress. Seeing the Doctor's calm look, however, she forced herself to relax. Taking deep breaths to calm herself she waited for the right moment to catch her captor off guard.
The Empress snapped her fingers, and the other guard ran off. The Doctor was apparently holding a staring contest with the man holding the spear against Rose's throat (she hoped the other man knew, because if looks could kill he would have dropped dead by now), and his gaze did not waver the entire time. Rose slowly lifted her hand to grasp his, and she felt his fingers curl around hers defensively. That gave her more strength, and she raised her head to glare at the Empress. She was only slightly pleased when the other woman looked away first.
When the guard finally returned, the Doctor immediately grabbed the sonic from his jacket. "The thing is," he said, grinning, stepping closer to Rose, "Teleportation requires a lot of technology, people, equipment, and time. I rather prefer not to go that route."
"Then how did you get in?" The Empress demanded.
"The same way we're getting out," he replied, flippantly.
"How?"
"Well, I may have lied." He amended. "There is one step I forgot to mention. And one rule I should have you know: If you give a man a sonic screwdriver in a room made out of stone, never let them do this."
He used a setting on the sonic that emitted a high-pitched whine, and the sound began echoing off the walls, floor and ceiling. The Empress as well as her guards hit the ground, clutching at their over-sized ears and shrieking in pain. The Doctor grabbed Rose's hand and they ran for it, dodging other guards and palace staff who looked at them in complete bewilderment before realizing what had happened and giving chase.
A stray spear bounced off the wall near Rose's head, and she ducked and moved closer to the Doctor. His hand tightened on hers, and he flashed her a grin over his shoulder. Seconds later the TARDIS appeared, and the Doctor opened the doors and shoved her through.
Not being able to resist one last 'up-yours', he grinned at the livid guards and the figure of the Empress racing up to them. "As I said, I'll be leaving the way I came. Unfortunately, I will not be telling you how it works. Now, I'm going to finish what you so rudely interrupted. Have a nice reign, Your Majesty; it'll end in about ten years or so." He ducked inside as a spear was launched, and it buried itself into the door with a muffled 'thunk'. The TARDIS hummed in disapproval, chastising him, but he had already started flicking switches, pulling levers, and pressing random buttons in take off.
Once they were safely in the vortex, he walked over to Rose. There was an intense expression in his eyes, one that made her curl her toes and shiver in delight. "I believe there was something I was trying to say, earlier."
"Yeah?" She said, breathlessly, wanting to snog him senseless and perhaps, if she was lucky, continue onto other activities.
He stepped closer, eyes boring into hers, and his head dropped her to ear. In the barest whisper, he said, "Rose, I wonder if they serve bananas for breakfast?"
She blinked.
Laughing at her expression, he went back to the console, and she narrowed her eyes at him. Oh, it was on.
And on that rather open-ended ending, I ask for you to please review! They keep me happy and my plot bunnies fed, and well-fed plot bunnies means they won't die out anymore :) And bite me. Hungry bunnies are not to be messed with.