A/N: The summer just calls for key lime pie, doesn't it? (Please be warned: very, very M.)

Love is the magician that pulls man out of his own hat. ~Ben Hecht

Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is eternity. ~Henry Van Dyke

I.

Amy found herself wearing a long green dress standing on a small hill located in a field of reddish grass. On the crest of the hill, there was a tree she might almost have mistaken for an oak had it not had leaves of shimmering silver. A slight wind stirred them, and they shone and rustled in the luminous glow of what seemed to be afternoon or dawn in this place. It was hard for her to tell as she looked up at the sky above her because there were two suns...

Where am I? I've never dreamed this before...never read or heard of this place. I'd remember. I know I'd remember...

She looked around her, turning in a slow circle, amazed at the beauty of this alien landscape. When she brought her attention back to the small hill at a distance ahead of her, she became aware of the man sitting on the far side, knees drawn up, small and forlorn-looking, staring off at the distant snow-capped mountains.

Doctor?

With her thought, she was standing on the gentle rise of the hill under the shade of the silver-leaved tree. She had moved with supernatural speed, a flash of thought that transported her from there to here instantaneously, but she felt no fear. Somehow, in this place, that was simply how one covered distance. It was natural and good. She took a few steps forward, enjoying the sensation of the soft grass teasing her bare feet. The seated figure before her did not turn.

She sat down beside him on the red turf, her green skirts spreading out around her. Her pose mimicked his own as she drew her knees up and rested her chin on them. For long moments, they simply sat in silence. She felt his hand slide out to cover her own, lace their fingers together, and she felt that electric and powerful current of being connected to him shimmer through her. She smiled, and a sigh escaped her.

He studied her with a small smile of his own before turning back to look at the landscape. There was something so wistful in his gaze as he swept it across slowly across the vista that after a while it made her turn to him and wrap her arms around him to comfort him, her head resting against his chest listening to the sound of his hearts. She felt his arms come up to hold her to him, one hand coming up to stroke her hair slowly.

She noticed as she leaned there against him that his clothing was different, too, both old-fashioned and other-worldly, nothing like the old-man-professorish garb he usually hid behind. There was a loose shirt that laced up the front and a long vest that had sigils in what she knew were the language of his world on it, soft pants, and boots. The symbols seemed to shift in color and content every time she glanced away. Something about that disturbed her in this peaceful place, so she decided not to look at them any more.

Instead, she looked up at him. The expression on his face broke her heart. His eyes were lost, yearning, haunted, as if he were trying to take in as much of what he was seeing as he possibly could because at any moment it would be taken from him. She didn't even pause to think. She gently placed her hand on his face, softly stroking. His eyes flickered down to hers , and the pain she saw there made her long to hold him, soothe him. Anyone who looked that sad should be weeping, yet he simply sat silent in front of her, his aching eyes darting from her face and then back to this unreal place that surrounded them as if it caused him pain both to look and to look away.

Still gentle, she brought the fingers of her hand to his mouth, and traced pad of her index finger along the curve of his bottom lip. His attention focused on her. There was a question in her expression as she repeated her action. She saw something change in his eyes, something click into place, a decision made. With a tiny little sound that had something of sadness and despair in it, he turned away from the snowcapped mountains, leaning in to her as she met him half-way.

The kiss started gently, slowly, lingeringly. His hands came up to comb through her hair gently, one hand cradling the back of her head as he traced the other down her waist to press her closer against him. She willingly pressed closer, murmuring, her hands sliding down to rest against his neck, his chest.

She had no idea how long they sat there under that changing sky, under those fading suns. He sucked her bottom lip softly; she responded with a sigh. He tilted his head, changing the angle of the kiss, and she opened her mouth in invitation. His hand on her waist tightened, shifted, as he accepted, as he slipped his tongue in slide across hers. The hand in her hair moved to her neck, his thumb seeking and finding her pulse, beginning to stroke it slowly. His touch against her just there made her shiver, made her need more, but also somehow took away her ability for urgency as their kisses grew deeper and longer. It was like deep water slowly pooling behind a well-made dam.

She wanted to let him know somehow about this new feeling, this new desire, but her words were now far away. He broke the kiss and nuzzled down to the joining of her neck and shoulder, just below the racing pulse he still slowly caressed. She felt him press closed lips against her, chaste, innocent, once, again, a third time. It had the feel of ritual, somehow, the way he held her, the way he tenderly kissed her. Then he opened his mouth against her there. She had never realized how sensitive this place on her body could be until this moment, until she felt him nip her lightly, begin to suck her neck, tongue slightly rough, lapping at her.

What is he...what is...why?

*Mine*

She heard it distinctly, clearly, and maybe even more perfectly than if he'd spoken it. She instantly understood his meaning, understood that he was putting his mark on her, was claiming her, and the thought of that made something in her react. She grabbed a handful of his hair, and he growled slightly, unwilling to suffer any interference, but she was pulling him against her, and the fierceness changed into something like a hungry purr as her fingers threaded through his hair.

Yours. Oh yes...yours...

The hand that had continued to stroke her pulse slipped up the side of her face, and she shivered in anticipation. When his fingertips skimmed over her temple, she felt the sparkling presence of him in her mind again. That thing she'd been missing, that she'd been looking for, returned to her, and she made a wordless little noise of happiness.

Doctor...

Desire like honey wine flowed to her, and she knew it was his. *My strawberry ginger goddess. Mine. Mine. Want you. Want you.*

Then why are you waiting and...clothes...why are there clothes? Have you noticed a trend with the clothes?

He laughed, brought his lips back to hers, and she felt the curve of them as he took her mouth. She felt the slight trembling of restraint in him.

*Ah, but Pond, here...all things are possible...*

What do you mean?

*I mean...* The voice in her mind trailed away, and he brought the hand at her waist up and around. She gasped because caress was touching bare skin as it trailed slowly over her ribcage. She pushed him back just a little and looked down.

She looked back up at him and arched an eyebrow. Well, now, isn't that a neat party trick you've picked up?

He grinned, pulled her back up against him. *What sort of parties have you been going to?*

Her hands were busy running over the bare expanse of his beautiful and unmarked chest. There was something about this that was...off...what was it? She should remember...

But then the hand that had been slipping up her torso reached its destination and she found that she really didn't care about the niggling little details any more.

II.

They fell backwards against the soft grass together to lie side by side. The day had finally disappeared, and moonlight silvered everything. The sky glowed a soft orange. Just as it should...

His hands were slowly remapping the contours of her body. He gently cupped her breast, settling the weight of it against his palm. His thumb lightly, slowly traced around her peaked nipple, but he did not touch it yet. His kisses were teasing, a flicker of his tongue against her own, not the full possession she longed for. She moved her hand from his hair to his shoulder to pull, to flex sharp nails against him in protest with a little noise of impatience, but he did not hurry his pace.

Doctor...

*Told you I was going to take my time. And here, I have all the time there is...*

He stroked his thumb over her nipple firmly, finally, and she groaned softly against his lips as the sensation shimmered through her.

*So sensitive... and I won't deny myself this anymore...because I need... I want...* He broke the kiss, and she gasped for air as she felt the heat of his mouth engulf her breast, greedily suckling. She arched toward him, holding him to her. His hand skimmed down her to encourage her leg to slide over his hip, and his fingers spread wide to pull her close to him.

You're so...I feel you...please... She ran her hands over his chest, down his back, caressing. They slipped between their bodies as she sought to stroke the length of him she felt pressed against her, sought to hurry his response.

*Not yet. I will make you mine, I promise. I am making you mine, in fact. So you don't want to miss this part, trust me.*

He rolled her under him, catching her hands in his, and pinning them gently beside her head as he brought his lips back to hers in a kiss that was hot, open-mouthed, required a response. She gave it, freely, fervently. He slid her hands above her head slowly, so slowly she didn't realize what he was doing until he captured both her wrists in one of his large hands.

He brought his knees between hers, spreading her thighs with his own. She willingly gave him room, slipping one leg up to his hip, toes flexing in the red grass with the pleasure of feeling his body, the hardness of him against her. His free hand caressed its way down her body, starting at her shoulder, spending happy moments at her breasts where it teased and plucked, rolled and caressed her sensitive nipples until she was twisting beneath him, and then, when he brought his kisses there to assuage the ache his clever fingers had aroused, she felt that wicked hand trail lower... Panting, desperate to touch him in return, she tugged against his light grip on her wrists, but he would not release her hands.

*No. Not yet. Trust me. Want to show you something. Want to...give you something...* The words were laced with such pure lust that her hips flexed up against his in instinctive response, and he made a little groaning noise against her skin as he kissed and suckled her.

His questing hand slipped over her taut stomach and threaded through her fiery curls to cup her in a proprietary manner, one fingertip lightly tracing the swollen, slick seam.

*/Lust /Pride/ Mine. Already wet and ready and already mine. I could take you right now... but there is so much more... Going to give you so much more, Amy...* His words echoing in her mind had the sound of a vow, and they were a low growl ripping across her mind.

He sank that one finger into her, seeking, pulling back from kissing her to watch the reaction on her face. She felt the electric shivering sensation that always accompanied his touch, but multiplied now, and she cried out softly. He stroked that finger inside her slowly, and with each movement, she felt paralyzing pleasure roll through her, retreating and intensifying with his motion like a wave lapping at the shore of the beach. He let her hands over her head go, slipping that hand down to cup her face, his fingertips beginning to caress her temple in the same rhythm his finger set below.

She could feel an intense sharpening of the bond between them, and suddenly, she had a sensation of what he was feeling as his finger continued to dip in and out of her, of the lust and excitement that were racing through his system like an addictive drug, the desire bordering on worship he had for her, an image of what he was going to do to her next...

She cried out, her body, tightening around his finger, and she reached out for him. He took her kisses, drinking in her sounds and sensations of ecstasy. Between her thighs, that finger, that wicked digit, kept moving slowly, slowly, so slowly...

Doctor! What...please...please...

*Absolutely. Anything you can even think of to demand is my pleasure to provide...*

And he slipped another finger inside her, giving back to her the ecstasy he felt in taking her this way, in watching her come apart.

III.

He paused to pleasure her breasts because he knew she wanted him to, knew all the places where she was most sensitive there. He laved them, used his teeth to graze them lightly before soothing them with his tongue, lapping, circling before settling in to suckle hard, tongue flicking, because he knew that's exactly the way she liked it. Exactly the way she'd been dreaming about it in the dark secret nights all alone in her room, those nights when her hands had crept silently under the covers, under her nightgown... He knew it was exactly the way nobody had ever done it to her or for her before, the way nobody else ever could, and he took a savage pride in doing it to her now, in making sure he did it to her exactly right. Her hands tunneled through his hair and she arched for him in ecstasy like a cat, her hips rocking against the continuing ministrations of his other hand.

So good...it's so...so good...

She felt him smile before his mouth left her breasts at last, releasing her nipple reluctantly to trail open-mouthed kisses slowly down her abdomen. He left no mystery about where he was headed.

Oh yes. Oh please. Oh, but if you do...I'll...I'll...Oh please...

He dipped his tongue into her belly-button, and then he gently nuzzled the saturated curls of her mound before pressing a kiss there. She groaned, hands reaching for him, head tossing restlessly. He looked up at her, eyes full of heat and desire, pinning her back as he continued to stroke her.

*I want you like this.* He flashed an image into her head of her lying on her back, both feet planted on the ground, knees folded up, heels as close to her derrière as she could get them with him still lying between her legs.

She moaned, shuddering, the image and command together erotic enough almost to send her over by themselves, and he kissed her thigh, nipped her there lightly, lightly. She felt his fingers slide down her leg to circle her ankle, encouraging her, and with effort, she forced her mind to force her body to slide her legs up.

"Perfect. You're perfect." She was spread for him, totally exposed, and she felt his thumb begin to caress her, begin to slide slickly over the sensitive bud of her. Her head fell back, rolling from side to side she fought for control, began to lose the battle. His voice, low, husky, came to her again. It was the first time he'd spoken aloud here, and the sound of him, dark, rough with need, in the silence of this place, was another layer of arousal. "Do you even know what you look like, Pond? Do you even know how erotic, how world-shattering you are? I bet you don't..."

*/Image of herself, totally lush, totally abandoned, lying back against the red grass. Her legs were spread open wide, her hips rising and falling as the Doctor's hand slowly and continuously stroked her. She watched as he leaned down, her vision his, and her perspective blurred together with his own as he flicked his tongue out to barely, barely trace over her again, again, again.../*

Amy's entire body shuddered, tightened, her vision going dark for a moment as pure sensation overwhelmed her. The Doctor simply kissed her thigh, the sensitive skin at the back of her knee, and waited.

A few moments later, when she knew where she was, she looked down, and he was looking at her with glittering eyes.

*Oh, no. Not done. Not done with you. More. Give me more. I want...I need...*

And he buried his face in her glistening folds.

She was keening. She would have cried out his name, but he had stripped away her words, stripped away her ability to name things. She could only feel, feel the thrust of his fingers, feel the slick glide and flick of his tongue, feel his lips suckle and tug. He made a low growling sound against her as he used the flat of his tongue to lap at her over and over. Her arms fell weak and useless above her head, fingers twisting into the red grass as her mind was overloaded by her own pleasure and his crashing over her again and again.

He rose above her still licking the taste of her from his lips, and he looked down at her with such hunger in his eyes that every part of her seemed to quiver in response. She reached for him, pulled him down to her, and the feeling of his weight settling down on top of her was right, good, satisfying. She felt the iron length of him against her again, and she shifted her pelvis against his restlessly. He stroked her hair back with both hands, framing her face, studying her for a moment, speculation warring with the pure desire burning in his eyes, kissing her deeply.

*It's time, now, Amelia. Last chance to run away... I...I... can probably still let you go, but...*

For an answer, she moved her trembling hand from his shoulder to his face, set her fingertips against his temple, and slowly stroked there. A shiver ran through him from head to foot and his lips parted on a groan. His hips hitched against her.

Don't you tell me to run. Not ever again. Thought...thought we'd settled that...

*Sorry. My mistake. Duly noted.* He smiled ever so slightly, kissed her forehead lightly. *In that case, then...*

He looked into her eyes, smile disappearing, and she became aware of the light in his eyes, focused on the beauty of them, as she never had been before. There were worlds in his eyes... She felt his fingers lightly caressing her, and it felt as if her whole body were encased in lightning, but there was no pain. It felt as if she were being lifted out of herself somehow, and the feeling was complete ecstasy, a pleasure beyond anything she'd ever felt...

*Breathe, Pond, you still need to breathe.../Amusement/Desire/Worry/*

Who needed air? Air was for amateurs... She had...this.

As the knowledge of him, the knowing him began to flow to her, she felt his length slide slickly over her. She instinctively arched for him, and then he entered her. He slid in slowly, inch by inch, measured and controlled into her waiting warmth until she was panting, ready to scream from it. At last, he was fully inside her, buried to the hilt, pelvis to pelvis. Her legs tightened around his waist, her fingers gripping his face as her body began to adjust to the size and heat of him, so much of him now there so deep inside her.

He was breathing hard, his fingers continuing to maintain contact, his eyes continuing to mesmerize hers. His back was arched hard, bowing him against her, his hips hitching in irregular tiny uncontrolled thrusts. Other than this, they were locked together in stillness as their minds connected.

As she looked at him, it seemed his face sometimes shimmered, changed, sometimes was not his own. And yet, she knew the faces that she saw were somehow all him, knew suddenly that he had worn many faces in many times. Her eyes widened. She saw incomplete flashes of his past, brief, pieces only, the majestic and the terrible, but even these were powerful. She saw him as a traveler for whom everything was steeped in wonder, a peace-maker who all-too-often saw his efforts fall to ruin, and then, horribly and least clearly, as a warrior who fought against his will...

More clearly, more completely, she saw him seeing her, from their first meeting as he'd tumbled out of the damaged and burning TARDIS to help her with the scary crack in her childhood bedroom wall to the second time when she'd cracked him over the head with a cricket bat in her Kiss-O-Gram costume and he'd begun to feel unwilling admiration for both her courage and her long legs. Then on StarShip UK when she'd saved him from becoming someone he'd have to hate, again, and he'd felt the first flickerings of something more, how hard he'd been fighting that unexpected and losing battle since then, especially when she'd begun to pursue him actively, recklessly...

He saw into her as well, and because of the strength of his natural abilities was able to see to the bottom of her yearning for him, see every tear and torment she'd had as a child, see the blur that was her parents disappearing from her life, strangely muted as it was, see every hateful therapist and village child, every victory and triumph as she became the woman she chose to be in defiance of them all. Green eyes and green-gold eyes locked together were bright with tears at the understanding, with the appreciation of the other, and still the connection between them grew. He lowered his mouth to hers softly, gently kissing her.

The flow of places and memories eventually stopped, and she realized that she was seeing her own face, suddenly. She was looking down at herself through his eyes. She watched her own eyes grow wider, felt a combination of unease and desire as she suddenly understood without having to ask that he was showing her this, giving her this, reminding her that the knowing of the other's pleasure was a part of the full bond.

He flexed his hips gently, withdrawing for the first time since he'd entered her and reseating himself deeply. Her eyes slid closed. She could feel not only the sensation of him inside her, full and hard, but she could also feel what he felt, the sensation of her own body tight and slick around him, receiving him as he thrust back in.

Words were a useless affectation now. They did not need to speak for the other to understand what was needed, desired. His pleasure was her own now, as hers had been his from the very beginning, and they sought it together relentlessly. She opened her eyes because she knew he wanted, needed to look into them, see the responses mirrored there. He withdrew and thrust back in again once more with exquisite slowness because he knew she wanted to feel the amazing duality again, experience that new sensation once more. She removed one hand from his temple and stroked it lightly down his back, and they both shivered in reaction. He kissed her, another teasing flicker of his tongue against hers, and she slipped her tongue into his mouth when his retreated. He sucked on it greedily. He'd been wanting her to do that for ages, she realized, liked her to be the aggressor sometimes.

He began to move. It was time. They were both ready. His hips slowly rocked, setting a pace that was like the tide of the ocean, endless, eternal. She met every thrust, her mind filled with the sparkling web of their bond, the sensations of his pleasure and hers like diamonds cast on velvet handful after handful. Urgency began to arise, and his pace increased. She slid her leg up and over his waiting arm so he could bring it up over his shoulder to bend her for the deeper strokes he craved.

His excitement and desire fueled her own, and she dug her nails into his shoulder. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, and she felt him kiss-bite her again in an act she now understood to be a symbolic marking, a claiming, a visible sign of possession and warning to others that a bonding had occurred, felt her need begin to rise with the emotions that washed back and forth between them. He raised his head and his eyes met hers again. He brought his other hand back to her temple again, and she mirrored his action. He kissed her once, briefly, hips pounding into hers, and then his rhythm stuttered, broke, and her mouth opened on a soundless cry as the climax hit them. He threw his head back to the orange sky and roared.

The incredible intensity of it had every muscle in her body clenching as she bowed beneath him. The sensation surpassed everything she had ever known before, everything even that he had shown her before. It wasn't just physical ecstasy, but was somehow also an ecstasy of the mind as well, and that they were sharing it... It went on and on as echo after echo bounced back and forth between them. Eventually, the last of the lightning faded away, and she lay weak and dazed beneath the heavy weight of him listening to the tripping cadence of his double hearts. She wrapped her arms around him, gently holding, caressing, as their bodies and minds began to calm.

He turned his head, kissed her neck softly, and she heard through the bond as clear as a bell and laced with the deepest satisfaction, *Mine.*

Here's hoping you didn't all die from key lime overdose...and that it was up to everyone's demanding standards.