Amy Pond ([info]timeforamy) wrote,
2010-06-14 23:46:00
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[ for [info]goodwithtime; showering and sorting out ]

The TARDIS wasn't only bigger on the inside, it was a vast labyrinth of tunnels and rooms, little nooks and crannies and everything else in between, all into one magical, impossible machine. Had Amelia (little Amelia of the round face and sturdy jaw) been afforded the opportunity to venture beyond the two blue doors, she might well have gotten lost - and happily so - in the unnatural playground, the laughter of her imaginary friend chasing behind her as they engaged in a game of hide and seek. It would have been a beautiful fantasy, something meant to be written in calligraphy on parchment and bound with leather, kept on a child's bookshelf along with volumes by the brothers Grimm and Hans Christien Andersen.

But fairy tales did not always last forever, though their memories might be able to linger as such a fashion. And where Amelia had been, Amy was now - with longer hair and less innocence in her eyes - and Amy's idea of a fantasy or something meant to be told across the stars was far, far different from what little Amelia's had been.

Take, for instance, the presence of a shower on her imaginary friend's magical spaceship. Little Amelia might have considered turning on the spray and standing beneath it for a hour's time, twirling one way and then the other with eyes closed and imagination reaching to far, impossible places.

But Amy Pond - Amy of the ginger hair and temperament to match - was thinking about different things in regards to the shower and its presently running water. Because running water meant the shower was occupied, and there were only two passengers on the TARDIS. One option was herself, and the other -

Shifting on the balls of her feet Amy moved, cat-quiet, towards the slightly ajar door. Mist was coiling gently into the empty space, creating a dewy sort of cloud. He was there - she could hear him - hear the padding sounds of his feet here and there with when he shifted position, the murmured tone of his voice.

Amy had a second's time to think, to reconsider, and to dismiss that reconsideration into a cavern of nothingness. Her arms crossed as she stripped the sweatshirt from her upper half, toeing out of her sneakers to leave them behind. Her bare feet were silent against the flooring as she crossed towards the misty cloud, and the slightly open door.

Tags: open to - goodwithtime, pairing - amy/the doctor, scenes - completed, timeline - au

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  • 147 comments

[info]goodwithtime

June 15 2010, 19:08:51 UTC 1 year ago

The Doctor was a mess. Earlier that afternoon they had narrowly escaped certain doom when a swarm of vicious Bulurian spaceships descended on the tiny planet where they had been picnicking (leave it to the Bulurians to know just how to spoil a perfectly pleasant afternoon on Cynok-4), and had gotten it in their purple-furred heads to enslave the whole of the planet. Well, the Doctor couldn't very well stand for that, could he? And by the end of the day the Doctor was covered in red earth and purple fur, the sleeve of his coat ripped in three places and his head smarting from a very, very unplanned bump to the head.

Amy had fared a bit better (she always did in these kinds of situations), and had come out of it with a slight dusting of dirt and a marginally creased nail. Humans. Well, at least they'd saved the Cynocks.

The spray beat down between the Doctor's shoulder blades as he scrubbed away the grime of another close call. He was singing robustly -- something by Puccini -- and, though his voice wasn't exactly terrific, at least it carried.

Over the roar of the water, he can hear nothing other than his own warbling voice.

Certainly not the approach of a young redheaded companion who, only hours before, he had clung to as they watched the Bulirian ships retreat into the hazy yellow sky.

[info]timeforamy

June 15 2010, 19:21:06 UTC 1 year ago

He was completely unaware of her approach, because if he would have known then he would have done something to try and deter her. There had been advances before of similar nature, where Amy had unceremoniously pressed him against the TARDIS and kissed him in a most un-ladylike way. He had protested her humanity and his age and - something else, she couldn't remember what now - and while that had stopped them for now, that had been in the past.

Now, she wouldn't stand for being deterred.

Amy stripped layer after layer away from her and left the clothes in little puddles outside the doorway. The air in the TARDIS never felt too cold, even now, and she wondered for a fleeting second why that might be.

Then she heard him singing and all thoughts of temperature ran from her mind in favor of a smile that twitched at her mouth's corner.

Silently, Amy tugged open the shower door and joined him beneath the spray.

Well, this is one way to get his attention.

[info]goodwithtime

June 15 2010, 20:39:29 UTC 1 year ago

The Doctor was in the middle of a long, upswinging note when he felt the air stir behind him. He half turned -- "Amy!" -- and the note he'd been holding shot up two good octaves. Blimey bloody hell and --

"-- What are you doing. Are you mad?"

[info]timeforamy

June 15 2010, 20:44:07 UTC 1 year ago

"Cleaning up." Amy shows no modesty or hesitation at the answer, her bare toes curling against the flooring. "Taking a shower. I thought it was obvious."

Oh, human girls and the coyness they have.

[info]goodwithtime

June 15 2010, 21:09:08 UTC 1 year ago

"But I'm --" he stalls, aware of the chill that creeps up the back of his neck; she's brought all of the cold air into the shower with her and it sparks feeling underneath his skin. Not to mention the fact that he is very much naked and, from the quick glimpse he got of her when she slid in behind him, she's not exactly wearing anything either.

The Doctor colours from the tips of his ears to his toes.

"-- Amy, I'm a bit...naked, here."

[info]timeforamy

June 15 2010, 21:13:16 UTC 1 year ago

"Well, it would be silly to have your clothes on in the shower, wouldn't it?" Amy is still affronting nonchalance, but he is very much naked and that is resulting in a pounding of her heart in her chest, a roar of her pulse in her throat.

Her footing slips a bit - or does it? - against the tiling, forcing her hands to find his shoulders for support. Her hair is lank with the water now and she has a much better look at his eyes.

[info]goodwithtime

June 15 2010, 21:23:16 UTC 1 year ago

"Yes, but --" the Doctor tries to process logic, comes up with a great big empty, and splutters again "-- I'm sorry, what?" He is compelled to repeat that word -- what? -- ad infinitum, until his mouth falls off of his face. Whatwhatwhatwhat and, oh god, she has the most extraordinary --

"But you're human, and I'm --" he blinks the water out of his eyes "-- sorry, I'm naked."

[info]timeforamy

June 15 2010, 21:26:39 UTC 1 year ago

Her tongue is against her teeth and Amy is suddenly very much aware of how naked he is in fact, and how much she wants so very many things all at once and one at a time and -

- oh, so many things.

"Yeah, been over the I'm human, you're nine hundred and something part already, think we can just skip to the naked?" Her voice is different now, not quite so innocent and very much filled with oh-so human want.

Amy's firm, little hands are against his shoulders and one stays there while the other moves higher, against the water-soaked curve of his cheek. Her eyes close and so does the distance between them, her mouth finding his in an insistent kiss.

[info]goodwithtime

June 15 2010, 21:35:36 UTC 1 year ago

The Doctor reacts like he's been touched with a livewire. His body goes tense, back bowing, hands flying up to grasp her shoulders. Her mouth (sweet, sweet mouth with the faint taste of berry lip balm and traces of the cherries they'd had for lunch) slides over his, the kiss drenched by the falling spray. His own falls open in protest, a half strangled sound jumping out of him.

"Amy --" his grip on her shoulders is compromised by the water; her skin is slippery and wet and very, very warm. He feels his two hears accelerate. "Blimey, Amy, what are you doing?"

[info]timeforamy

June 15 2010, 21:46:19 UTC 1 year ago

Is it going to be like this every time she comes onto him? Will there always be a floundering, awkward stage of what is this? combined with a thousand reasons why they shouldn't? Amy asks herself that question and answers it with probably a half second after, then deciding it doesn't really matter. Because she doesn't have the slightest intention of stopping or retreating this time, and there aren't two TARDIS doors for him to retreat behind, to shout protests and reasoning to her unwilling ears. No, all there is now is water and warm, hazy air, and very warm skin.

"Why Doctor, I believe I am," her mouth finds his cheek, a half kiss trailing down his jawline, "trying to seduce you, and I'd be able to succeed if you'd talk a little less." Her head tilts so she can find his neck, two rapid pulses waiting, and she gives her attention to both.

[info]goodwithtime

June 15 2010, 22:04:57 UTC 1 year ago

"Now, listen, Amy," he tries, "obviously there's something very, very wrong here. Are you sure you didn't get into anything while we were on the planet? Eat any strange berries? Smell any strange flow-ERS! --" his voice jumps when she licks his pulse and he worms against the wall of the shower, trying to keep his sangfroid.

Which is exceedingly difficult to do, considering that the heat and the closeness are doing very telling things to his body. Silly Doctor, the dark little voice inside of him chides, when will you ever learn to trust your instincts?

[info]timeforamy

June 15 2010, 22:33:56 UTC 1 year ago

So Time Lords do have the same anatomical reactions that humans do. Amy is pleased by this because until she saw him this way, completely exposed and very much in the shower, she really had no idea what she might be facing. But it didn't seem there was anything different, and that was a good thing.

"No," she says, and now she turns her eyes to meet his again. She is unwavering and adamant. "No. Nothing like that. It's really simple, Doctor. I know what I want, and that happens to be you."

[info]goodwithtime

June 15 2010, 22:58:15 UTC 1 year ago

No, apart from the obvious binary cardiac system, Time Lords and Humans have very little separating them anatomically. Humans, of course, are built on Time Lord design -- a bit different, of course, but perfectly adapted to their own world -- and Time Lords have very much to recommend them to the human shape. They also have human reactions, which explains why the Doctor is currently blushing as red as Amy's red pullover.

"Now hang on," he says, almost panicky, his thumbs sliding over her upper arms, "I know that surviving a near-apocalypse can quicken the blood and make one very happy to be alive, but --" he licks his lips "-- oh, Amy, really, you don't want to do this. I'm very...very..."

Oh, to hell with it.

He wraps his hand around the back of her neck and pulls her mouth to his.

[info]timeforamy

June 16 2010, 00:08:42 UTC 1 year ago

His mood swings have always been abrupt and quicksilver, but this is something she hasn't experienced before. And Amy has kissed him, she has tried before to instigate this very thing into being, but never before has he kissed her. She's never felt a Time Lord's assertiveness, never felt the hitch in his breath or the want - the overwhelming want.

"Doctor -"

Amy manages his name before she makes a whimpering sound in her throat, and then her arm is tangled around his neck. Her lips part in response and she's kissing him desperately - as she's never kissed anyone before.

[info]goodwithtime

June 17 2010, 02:52:22 UTC 1 year ago

His name -- his title -- and the Doctor doesn't even know why he continues to insist on formalities, even at nine-hundred-and-seven. But nine-hundred-and-seven-year-olds know a thing or two about kisses (though they have been few and far between) and they know what to do with the heat in their hands (the Doctor's are currently sliding up Amy's bare arms, into her wet hair).

There are at least a hundred things wrong about this and, if he were able to think about anything other than the taste of her mouth, the Doctor would be happy to list them in alphabetical order ('A' is for 'Amy', who is neither your age nor your species; 'B' is for 'boyfriend,' of which she already has) to try and talk himself out of taking something too far. But god, there's something in the way that she presses her body against him (wet and slippery, with the pollen of the Alurrian Fields still between her fingers) and it's all the Doctor can do not to push her up against the tiles and take her right there.

[info]timeforamy

June 17 2010, 03:44:42 UTC 1 year ago

Her mind is reeling, faster and more quickly away from consciousness and into places she hasn't dared to truly go before. Amy has thought about this more than once, but now that he is taking her fantasy towards a reality's path - and aggressively at that - she is caught up in wanting so many things, more than she can imagine all at once.

Amy hitches a soft sound in her mouth and lets her other arm wrap in turn around his neck, a helpless and desperate gesture that she hasn't dared to give herself over to until now. He awakens things in her that have been long since dormant, and she wants nothing more than to feel them again - over and over.

Her teeth nip lightly at his lower lip, her tongue asking deeper entrance into his mouth - the way she has wanted to before.

[info]goodwithtime

June 17 2010, 17:28:51 UTC 1 year ago

The Doctor: an eternal being in the body of a man, with all of the fire of the stars in his blood, the light of several universes in his fingertips. It's been so long, and he's been so lonely; so tired of running and fighting, exhausted by tropes of loneliness and the knowledge that he must carry it all alone. Until Amy. Until the light in her hair and the simple, sweet smile that drives him crazy and makes him believe that there is still good in him, somewhere, deep down.

She twines her arm around the back of his neck and suddenly she is very close, the heat of her body against him, warm and wanting. He parts his lips and gives her leave to deepen the kiss, a rough little growl eeking from somewhere deep in his chest.

[info]timeforamy

June 17 2010, 18:41:09 UTC 1 year ago

She has done this before, and her body knows what it wants, knows what to do and how. But he is different, he awakens new things inside of her and Amy can't stop the rapid pounding of her heart. He makes her come alive, in ways no one ever has before.

Her hips shift and press forward, against his, and the feeling makes her breath hitch again. Accompany that with the sound he makes and Amy is quickly losing grasp of her senses. She sweeps her tongue against his lower lip and makes a wild sound of want in her throat.

[info]goodwithtime

June 17 2010, 21:56:49 UTC 1 year ago

The Doctor ducks his head out of the spray, teasing her to follow, and almost laughs out loud at the state of her -- dark red ringlets plastered to the side of her head, her cheeks wild and flushed with colour. She looks a bit like she did when they were barraged by that water beast on Thraxyll; when the creature attempted to show its affection by drenching Amy in a wave of psychic water. Little Amelia Pond always gets noticed.

He holds his palm to the curve of her hip and turns her round in place, pushing her shoulders against the wet tiles. The steam rises, creates a curtain, and the Doctor can feel every droplet sliding over his skin. The touch of her -- how close she is -- is a magnet for sensation. Old hungers awaken, and new ones bump like molecules in that steam.

[info]timeforamy

June 17 2010, 22:16:48 UTC 1 year ago

If he would have laughed she might well have followed suit, through sheer and overwhelmed delight of what was happening now. But he doesn't and Amy tethers in the feeling with a smile that reaches up and to the corners of her eyes.

The tile is warm and cool at the same time against her back and she shivers, but he's there and close and that changes everything. Amy winds her arms around his neck again and finds his mouth, hissing her own want from her lips to his.

[info]goodwithtime

June 18 2010, 01:14:43 UTC 1 year ago

The Doctor fits his hands to her strange, wonderful human shape. She's tall but she's got curves on her, and the Doctor often finds himself wishing that she wouldn't cover them up with all of those voluminous sweaters she found in the downstairs wardrobe.

He brings his hands to her face, fingers resting against her high cheekbones, his thumbs beneath her jaw. "Amy," he manages, through a rough, drawn out breath, "are you sure you want to...I mean, I'm a...and you're a..."

[info]timeforamy

June 18 2010, 01:21:02 UTC 1 year ago

Her hands make a similar trek, upwards and to caress over the curve of his jawline, both sides receiving the attention of her touch. "I'm very, very sure," she murmurs, and her voice is deeper than it would be normally, but that's only from her own want. "Are you? I mean, I am a human, and you could have - "

What's she saying? That he's over nine hundred years old, he could have - and likely has had - anyone he wants, is he sure he wants to go there, in this new body, with this particular human girl?

Well, that's probably about accurate.

[info]goodwithtime

June 18 2010, 03:30:13 UTC 1 year ago

"-- Could have what?" The Doctor, for all of his knowledge, is a bit slow on the uptake. He takes her inch of awkwardness and turns it into his mile. "I'm sorry. I've forgotten the question."

[info]timeforamy

June 18 2010, 03:50:48 UTC 1 year ago

"It's..I mean, you could have anyone," she says, tripping slightly over her own tongue, "are you sure..?" She's thinking, briefly, of River Song and her sharp wit, and all the other possibilities. Her palm stays, though, against his cheek.

[info]goodwithtime

June 19 2010, 16:56:03 UTC 1 year ago

"Oh, Amy," he murmurs, gathering the curves of her face beneath his palms, "Amy." He tilts her jaw beneath his fingers and brings his mouth to hers.

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