Fic: Mr. and Mr. Pond (Inception/Doctor Who, PG)
title: Mr. and Mr. Pond
author: ilovetakahana
pairing: Arthur/Eames [as Amy/Rory]
warnings: Okay, this one is for theholysea, who I convinced to draw me some art of Arthur and Eames as Rory and Amy Pond. YES, REALLY. And you know what? EVERYBODY GO LOOK AT THIS: Kissogram+Nurse.
I've written this story with Amy and Rory firmly in mind; Arthur and Eames reference events from "The Eleventh Hour" and "The Big Bang". The "stupidface" bit is, of course, from the current season. As for the ending, yes, that's me being meta XD
disclaimer: I don't own the original story or the characters. Not making any profit, just playing in the sandbox.
summary: In Leadworth, somewhere near Gloucester, there lived a nurse and a kissogram.
Ring. Ring.
Stuart Eames's eyes flew open and he slapped at his alarm clock. Silence fell like a thunderclap in his bedroom.
He could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest and it wasn't just because of the adrenaline coming from getting woken up so suddenly.
Today was his birthday.
Today was the day.
He fumbled for his mobile and hit a speed-dial button. "Arthur? Arthur Pond! Pick up, stupidface."
"Eames?" There was a lot of noise in the background. "Hi. Kind of busy right now, we've just had an entire soccer team come in after practice. Lots of bruises and blood and scrapes all around. I haven't forgotten today, though. We're still on, right?"
Eames closed his eyes and smiled, let Arthur's voice wash over him.
When Arthur stopped talking Eames sighed and said, "Love you. Also, you are in Leadworth, and you should say football."
Sound of Arthur's warm chuckle, that familiar beloved laugh. "I love you. Now get your ass out of bed and get to work. I'll see you later."
///
People often thought that a kissogram's work was easy; that there was really nothing to it: deliver a message, smile, and give the message recipient a kiss.
Easy money.
Yeah, right.
Eames sighed and trudged the last few steps to the nearest park bench, the one that overlooked the empty duck pond, and eased his aching feet out of his shoes.
He'd nearly been punched today, thank you very much, and that from a particularly dense husband who had ordered a kissogram for his wife's birthday. Why he hadn't bothered to specify the gender of the kissogram was beyond Eames. There was a reason why he hated the very idea of "shoot the messenger".
Sound of a car pulling up nearby.
Eames closed his eyes and tilted his head up to the weak spring sun.
Someone was sitting on the grass near Eames's feet.
Without opening his eyes, Eames reached out.
He felt someone take his hand, familiar calluses and scrapes and a warmth that he had known since he was a child.
"Long day, huh," Arthur said. His thumb was moving in slow circles on the back of Eames's hand.
"Sometimes I wonder if this isn't all just a dream, if we're not supposed to be doing something more glamorous or more dangerous. Certainly a kissogram puts himself or herself in danger every day."
"Ask for hazard pay," Arthur said, chuckling.
"I rather think they chucked that extremely polite request of mine into the bin," Eames said, and he opened his eyes and grinned down at Arthur in his blue scrubs, who was soon smiling back.
"If by 'polite' you mean you basically told them off, I believe it," Arthur said, and started to laugh.
Eames was enjoying the day; and then he resumed his original position.
His eyes were closed, and he never saw Arthur fumbling around in his pockets for a small box.
"Eames?"
And then Arthur was taking his other hand - his left hand - and Eames opened his eyes and Arthur's brows were pulled together into a straight line. Something cold sliding onto his fourth finger.
Eames looked down at his hand, at the thin silver band now encircling his ring finger - and then he looked at Arthur, at the closed-mouth smile and the apprehensive look in his eyes.
"Eames, I - "
"Of course the answer is yes, stupidface," Eames said, and he slid right off the park bench and grabbed Arthur in a hug. "What made you think I'd say no?"
"Proposal jitters," Arthur was saying - but there were tears in his eyes and Eames grabbed his face on his hands, rained kisses over his forehead and eyelids, held him as close as he could.
After a moment, Eames said, "Is there another one?"
"What? Yes," and Arthur showed him the red box, where a second silver band was waiting.
"Here," Eames said, gently, and with shaking hands he took the ring from the box and placed it on Arthur's left ring finger.
"Thank you, Eames," Arthur said, and then Eames was being hauled in close, they were kissing right there next to the empty duck pond, the kissogram and the nurse, and somewhere in the distance there was a sound like something breathing, and a sound that sounded distantly like "vworp vworp", and the future and all of its possibilities were unrolling before them as they kissed.
author: ilovetakahana
pairing: Arthur/Eames [as Amy/Rory]
warnings: Okay, this one is for theholysea, who I convinced to draw me some art of Arthur and Eames as Rory and Amy Pond. YES, REALLY. And you know what? EVERYBODY GO LOOK AT THIS: Kissogram+Nurse.
I've written this story with Amy and Rory firmly in mind; Arthur and Eames reference events from "The Eleventh Hour" and "The Big Bang". The "stupidface" bit is, of course, from the current season. As for the ending, yes, that's me being meta XD
disclaimer: I don't own the original story or the characters. Not making any profit, just playing in the sandbox.
summary: In Leadworth, somewhere near Gloucester, there lived a nurse and a kissogram.
Ring. Ring.
Stuart Eames's eyes flew open and he slapped at his alarm clock. Silence fell like a thunderclap in his bedroom.
He could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest and it wasn't just because of the adrenaline coming from getting woken up so suddenly.
Today was his birthday.
Today was the day.
He fumbled for his mobile and hit a speed-dial button. "Arthur? Arthur Pond! Pick up, stupidface."
"Eames?" There was a lot of noise in the background. "Hi. Kind of busy right now, we've just had an entire soccer team come in after practice. Lots of bruises and blood and scrapes all around. I haven't forgotten today, though. We're still on, right?"
Eames closed his eyes and smiled, let Arthur's voice wash over him.
When Arthur stopped talking Eames sighed and said, "Love you. Also, you are in Leadworth, and you should say football."
Sound of Arthur's warm chuckle, that familiar beloved laugh. "I love you. Now get your ass out of bed and get to work. I'll see you later."
///
People often thought that a kissogram's work was easy; that there was really nothing to it: deliver a message, smile, and give the message recipient a kiss.
Easy money.
Yeah, right.
Eames sighed and trudged the last few steps to the nearest park bench, the one that overlooked the empty duck pond, and eased his aching feet out of his shoes.
He'd nearly been punched today, thank you very much, and that from a particularly dense husband who had ordered a kissogram for his wife's birthday. Why he hadn't bothered to specify the gender of the kissogram was beyond Eames. There was a reason why he hated the very idea of "shoot the messenger".
Sound of a car pulling up nearby.
Eames closed his eyes and tilted his head up to the weak spring sun.
Someone was sitting on the grass near Eames's feet.
Without opening his eyes, Eames reached out.
He felt someone take his hand, familiar calluses and scrapes and a warmth that he had known since he was a child.
"Long day, huh," Arthur said. His thumb was moving in slow circles on the back of Eames's hand.
"Sometimes I wonder if this isn't all just a dream, if we're not supposed to be doing something more glamorous or more dangerous. Certainly a kissogram puts himself or herself in danger every day."
"Ask for hazard pay," Arthur said, chuckling.
"I rather think they chucked that extremely polite request of mine into the bin," Eames said, and he opened his eyes and grinned down at Arthur in his blue scrubs, who was soon smiling back.
"If by 'polite' you mean you basically told them off, I believe it," Arthur said, and started to laugh.
Eames was enjoying the day; and then he resumed his original position.
His eyes were closed, and he never saw Arthur fumbling around in his pockets for a small box.
"Eames?"
And then Arthur was taking his other hand - his left hand - and Eames opened his eyes and Arthur's brows were pulled together into a straight line. Something cold sliding onto his fourth finger.
Eames looked down at his hand, at the thin silver band now encircling his ring finger - and then he looked at Arthur, at the closed-mouth smile and the apprehensive look in his eyes.
"Eames, I - "
"Of course the answer is yes, stupidface," Eames said, and he slid right off the park bench and grabbed Arthur in a hug. "What made you think I'd say no?"
"Proposal jitters," Arthur was saying - but there were tears in his eyes and Eames grabbed his face on his hands, rained kisses over his forehead and eyelids, held him as close as he could.
After a moment, Eames said, "Is there another one?"
"What? Yes," and Arthur showed him the red box, where a second silver band was waiting.
"Here," Eames said, gently, and with shaking hands he took the ring from the box and placed it on Arthur's left ring finger.
"Thank you, Eames," Arthur said, and then Eames was being hauled in close, they were kissing right there next to the empty duck pond, the kissogram and the nurse, and somewhere in the distance there was a sound like something breathing, and a sound that sounded distantly like "vworp vworp", and the future and all of its possibilities were unrolling before them as they kissed.