Warning: this chapter contains a mild sex scene and some disturbing themes. Rated M. You have been warned. Shevil, this one's for you.

The Doctor

The Doctor frowned. There was something wrong with this situation. "Who told you that?" The alien girl smiled again.

"A warrior. A long, long time ago." He nodded as though he was paying attention, but inside, his mind was racing. Tongue feeling as if it no longer belonged to him, he spoke.

"And who was this warrior?" The alien girl shrugged.

"A woman. I do not remember her name. She said something about fire when we asked her." Irritation flickered, like a failing light bulb. "It does not matter. Doctor you must come." She darted forward and tugged his hand, hard. He resisted. Rage appeared on her face then, and snarled, her extensive teeth growing longer and longer, past her jaw. "Come!" She growled, the melodious softness gone from her voice.

"Doctor?" The door of the TARDIS swung open to reveal Amy and Rory, confused looks on their faces. Behind them, Fire stood, a warning in her green eyes. He twisted to answer them.

"It's all right. We just have a little thing to do." Pain exploded in the back of his head, and lights blazed behind his eyes like dying stars. Blackness rolled over him then, like a cresting wave, and he was lost to the darkness. As he crumpled, his eyes picked out a moon, far above their heads, an impartial witness whose game was to stand and stare, but never do anything.

火 火 火

"Catch me if you can." Fire grinned down at him from a tree branch. Her eyes were alight with happiness. He chortled and rested his hip against the tree.

"You know, I'd rather not." Fire rolled her eyes and scrabbled down. She kissed his cheek. "Meet me later?" Without waiting for an answer, she sauntered off. That was Fire. Confident in his love of her. Of course, he was confident in her love of him, too.

Hours later, they lay in the field.

He had never been much for drinking, but somehow, this was different.

Their hearts thudded a rampant timpani.

They danced around the clearing, their fevered breath filling the silence with music in its own right.

Ahead, she twirled to the frantic blood beat that thudded through both of their veins.

He laughed, and far above them, faint and exotic music drifted from the stars.

Or maybe that was the alcohol.

Laughter filled the clearing.

She started to spin.

So did he.

The stars started to spin around him.

He was most certainly drunk.

She pressed toward him, grinding her body on his.

It was so normal when he peeled of her clothes and his.

They lay together, limbs twining like a pair of vines on a wall.

He ran his hands down her body, learning her, as though he could read her like Braille writing.

When he pushed inside her, her body jerked, and she twisted her head sharply, but he could still see the tear that dribbled down her cheek.

He pretended not to notice.

After all, in this body, she was a virgin.

Then again, so was he.

After, they lay knotted together on the green canvas of the field, limbs so tangled that you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." Fire hissed. And then she whispered a word that contained the very core of her being, a word that could bring the universe to its knees.

In return, he whispered his name in her ear, and her eyes brightened. She said it again, followed by her name, and repeated it over and over until its edges melted and it sounded unlike a name.

He tugged her closer and stared up at the stars, remembering what he had thought when he met her. Would she burn him if he got too close?

火 火 火

The Doctor came awake in bits and pieces. First he saw a stone wall. Then he saw a dirt floor. After that, a pair of boots. He opened his eyes slightly. The boots were attached to a pair of legs, then a torso, and eventually a head of flaming red hair. She was watching him silently, eyes glittering in the dim light like chips of emerald.

"Don't tell me; I ate too many Jammie Dodgers and passed out and now I'm experiencing a sugar-induced hallucination on the floor of the TARDIS." Fire's lip lifted in what on any other person would have been a snort.

"Wouldn't that be great?" A sigh made the hair lift off of her face and flutter down gently. He attempted to sit up, shortly before realizing his hands were tied behind his back, bound with tight cords that bit into his wrists if he pulled too hard. Wincing, he heaved himself to his knees. Fire watched him, expression impassive. Her eyes fell to the red lines on his arms, and she sighed, crawling across the dirt, so the tips of her fingers brushed his. He stared at her hand in his, remembering the last time. She watched him through slitted eyes, but made no comment as he tightened his grip, pressing his thumb into her palm.

"You know what you do?" He frowned.

"Pardon?"

She gave an impatient snort. "I mean do you understand what kind of life you have chosen?"

The Doctor sat up slightly. "It's no different than yours."

Her eyes narrowed. "Yes it is; you pick up strays and dance around with them until they break, and when they do, you find more. Me, I just keep my head down and slink through the shadows of human history."

His voice softened. "Aren't you lonely?"

A strange emotion rose up in her eyes. It was quickly replaced by first suspicion and then anger. "Why do you care?" He opened his mouth, but she beat him to the punch. "You had the opportunity to care, and you didn't take it. You can't just start now."

He increased his grip on her hand. "If you'll recall, it wasn't that I didn't choose to take it; it was that you didn't want me to."

Fire looked affronted for a second, but she dropped her gaze to their hands, intertwined and coated with dust. In a voice softer than sand falling, she whispered. "Doctor, do you ever wonder what will happen to us?" He must have looked puzzled, because she clarified. "I mean do you wonder how our lives will end. If we get out of this, I'll go off on my own, and you'll continue with your companions. But in many hundreds of millennia, you will have used up your regenerations and I will no longer have any interest in living. My question is this: what then? Will you run into something that crushes you like a bug? Will I find I have no reason to keep on living, and find a way to kill myself?" She looked at him, a peculiar expression on her face.

"Fire . . ." Something compelled him, and he looked at her, deep into the jade depths of her eyes. "If I had a choice, I'd want to spend eternity with you." Her mouth tightened.

"The problem is, Doctor, that's it's not an eternity; that's what I'm saying. We all gotta kick the bucket someday. Granted, some of us later rather than sooner, but still." There was a long pause. The silence stretched between them, stark and frustrating.

"I guess we all have to square with mortality." He sighed softly.

"Our lives are eternities; eternities of sorrow." Was her quiet response. Flexing her muscles, she released his hand and raised herself to her knees, where she hunched over, like a comma, a crescent moon, someone being slowly crushed by the weight of the world, resting on shoulders that appeared to be steel, but were in reality as fragile as glass. Someone had to save Fire, and logically the Doctor knew that he was the only person who could. The problem was, he was sure Fire didn't want to be saved. She'd run herself into the ground before admitting that she needed help. But then, so would he. With this in mind, he dragged himself forward until his lips met Fire's. Her eyes flew wide, sudden shock spreading through like ink.

"Are you crazy?" She muttered into his mouth, but she didn't push him away, instead she curled against him, like a flower towards the sun. He leaned forward even more, crushing her lips against her teeth. Even though these were different bodies, different times, she still tasted the same. Abruptly, she pulled away and studied him, emerald eyes into olive green. "Don't do this to me, Doctor."

"Do what?"

"Send me to the same battle twice." There was more silence, aching and raw.

In that space of time, the Doctor felt every emotion he'd ever felt for Fire roll up inside of him, like a crashing wave. She looked as though she were thinking about this as they peeled apart, leaned against the stone walls.

"Where are Amy and Rory?" He asked finally.

She looked suspicious, but she answered eventually. "After they knocked you out, I was going to fight, but they said they'd kill you, so I didn't. They tied us up, blindfolded me, and we were separated."

"Ahh."

"If we do get out of this, I want you to take me to my TARDIS." She sighed. He didn't say anything in response.

"Do you remember Gallifrey?" She said finally. And oh, but he did. He remembered days of running sweat-streaked through red grass. "Because I remember." She whispered. "Two suns rose in a burning sky. Silver trees glowing in the light of fiery Gallifreyan summers. Fire and glass cities. Ah, Gallifrey." Unexpectedly, tears glistened in her eyes and foamed down her cheeks. "Doctor," She gasped, and suddenly her grip was viselike on the Doctor's arm. "I miss Gallifrey more than you will ever, ever know." She was weeping now, and reached forward to hug him as best she could, the chains on her wrists clanking. Having her so close brought back memories, memories he'd tried very hard to hide. They were swift and unmerciful as they lay waste to his mind . . .