Fic: "Dark Side" (Four/Leela, PG)
Dark Side
by Brewster North
for whoniverse1000 (with thanks to vandonovan for suggesting the original prompt)
Length: approx 336 words
Pairing: Four/Leela
Rating: PG for UST
Summary: A post-ep for Horror of Fang Rock, so spoilers for that story if you haven't seen Season 15.
Her eyes still hurt. The Doctor's arm is in hers, formally, as though they are a pair of elders of her people walking to a ritual. This is a test, she knows.
At least inside the Doctor's ship the paths are all level. With her eyes blinded like an old woman's, she must rely on her other senses: they are always keen, but the keener now that she must navigate with them. Their footfalls echo against the narrow walls. The ship is crooning to her, like a mother. “Not far now,” says the Doctor, and it arrives at her ears like a counter-melody.
His scarf is around her shoulders, draping between them; not as a mark of possession, but as a mark of respect. She wears his colours. His scent is on the wool. Fascinating.
Cool yet dry, his fingers weave into hers. She clasps them a little closer. He seems uncertain, but she feels his four-footed pulse quicken, just a little. They are not so very different from each other: healers and warriors both. Both of them are, at heart, animals, members of the wider chain of life in the universe.
The door to her room is ajar; she can scent the wooden things, the leaves, and the dusty skins she and the Doctor dragged into it. “You should rest,” he says, in a voice flat as a pond; I do not want to hurt you, he means.
“Only my eyes are hurt, Doctor,” she reminds him. “If I am not to die, then I must make the most of this life. You may have all time, but these moments belong to both of us.”
“It will pass, you know,” he says, and though he's talking about her eyes she knows he means I do not want you to hurt me, either.
“I know,” she says. “Trust me, Doctor,” she adds, answering both what he says and doesn't say, and with a hunter's marksmanship meets his mouth with hers.
by Brewster North
for whoniverse1000 (with thanks to vandonovan for suggesting the original prompt)
Length: approx 336 words
Pairing: Four/Leela
Rating: PG for UST
Summary: A post-ep for Horror of Fang Rock, so spoilers for that story if you haven't seen Season 15.
Her eyes still hurt. The Doctor's arm is in hers, formally, as though they are a pair of elders of her people walking to a ritual. This is a test, she knows.
At least inside the Doctor's ship the paths are all level. With her eyes blinded like an old woman's, she must rely on her other senses: they are always keen, but the keener now that she must navigate with them. Their footfalls echo against the narrow walls. The ship is crooning to her, like a mother. “Not far now,” says the Doctor, and it arrives at her ears like a counter-melody.
His scarf is around her shoulders, draping between them; not as a mark of possession, but as a mark of respect. She wears his colours. His scent is on the wool. Fascinating.
Cool yet dry, his fingers weave into hers. She clasps them a little closer. He seems uncertain, but she feels his four-footed pulse quicken, just a little. They are not so very different from each other: healers and warriors both. Both of them are, at heart, animals, members of the wider chain of life in the universe.
The door to her room is ajar; she can scent the wooden things, the leaves, and the dusty skins she and the Doctor dragged into it. “You should rest,” he says, in a voice flat as a pond; I do not want to hurt you, he means.
“Only my eyes are hurt, Doctor,” she reminds him. “If I am not to die, then I must make the most of this life. You may have all time, but these moments belong to both of us.”
“It will pass, you know,” he says, and though he's talking about her eyes she knows he means I do not want you to hurt me, either.
“I know,” she says. “Trust me, Doctor,” she adds, answering both what he says and doesn't say, and with a hunter's marksmanship meets his mouth with hers.