Fic: The Lady Stirs
The Lady Stirs
Pairing: Five/Tegan
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 370
Summary: The Doctor muses as he watches Tegan sleep.
Just a bit of drabble. I blame faience for this. Her angsty Five will not get out of my head. Also, I wrote this at 5 am and it's unbeta'd, so...yeah. Enjoy the angsty fluff.
He watched her sleep.
It was hardly the first time; he had shared his bed before, more frequently in some regenerations than others, and often he spent the long hours after lovemaking simply watching them when they were too unconscious to protest. He thought, perhaps, Tegan was his favourite to watch; not because it was the only time she was silent - even in her sleep she curled against him and made small noises of contentment - but because he had never before seen anyone so trusting. It was a peculiar trait of her species; they spent an unfathomable amount of time of their short lives sleeping and were so vulnerable, so exposed. He had seen it before, of course, but Tegan, all heart and without reserve, slept as if she offered her whole existence to his care.
Not surprisingly, she had made love as she lived her life with him, both passionately and generously. She simultaneously took as much pleasure as she possibly could while struggling to give it back, to make him feel some small fraction of the tempest of sensations he produced in her. She had moaned and cried out against him, falling silent only after her climax had subsided and she clung to him, murmuring “I love you” into his shoulder. He let her believe he didn’t hear. He couldn’t have said it back anyway; he wasn’t sure he knew how.
It would end, of course. It always did. Though he wasn’t sure there had ever been so much at stake with anyone else. When he lost her, he knew she would take with her that part of him she had awakened.
She stirred, as if sensing the tumult of his thoughts, even though he knew he had kept perfectly still for hours; he hadn’t wanted to break the spell. He brushed small strands of hair from her face, letting his fingers trace along her bones with a feather-light touch, coaxing consciousness out of her slowly. The moment had been broken anyway. By the time her eyes fluttered open and the haze of sleep cleared enough to recognize him, all traces of his thoughts had vanished. He did the only thing he could.
He smiled, and said, “hello.”
Pairing: Five/Tegan
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 370
Summary: The Doctor muses as he watches Tegan sleep.
Just a bit of drabble. I blame faience for this. Her angsty Five will not get out of my head. Also, I wrote this at 5 am and it's unbeta'd, so...yeah. Enjoy the angsty fluff.
He watched her sleep.
It was hardly the first time; he had shared his bed before, more frequently in some regenerations than others, and often he spent the long hours after lovemaking simply watching them when they were too unconscious to protest. He thought, perhaps, Tegan was his favourite to watch; not because it was the only time she was silent - even in her sleep she curled against him and made small noises of contentment - but because he had never before seen anyone so trusting. It was a peculiar trait of her species; they spent an unfathomable amount of time of their short lives sleeping and were so vulnerable, so exposed. He had seen it before, of course, but Tegan, all heart and without reserve, slept as if she offered her whole existence to his care.
Not surprisingly, she had made love as she lived her life with him, both passionately and generously. She simultaneously took as much pleasure as she possibly could while struggling to give it back, to make him feel some small fraction of the tempest of sensations he produced in her. She had moaned and cried out against him, falling silent only after her climax had subsided and she clung to him, murmuring “I love you” into his shoulder. He let her believe he didn’t hear. He couldn’t have said it back anyway; he wasn’t sure he knew how.
It would end, of course. It always did. Though he wasn’t sure there had ever been so much at stake with anyone else. When he lost her, he knew she would take with her that part of him she had awakened.
She stirred, as if sensing the tumult of his thoughts, even though he knew he had kept perfectly still for hours; he hadn’t wanted to break the spell. He brushed small strands of hair from her face, letting his fingers trace along her bones with a feather-light touch, coaxing consciousness out of her slowly. The moment had been broken anyway. By the time her eyes fluttered open and the haze of sleep cleared enough to recognize him, all traces of his thoughts had vanished. He did the only thing he could.
He smiled, and said, “hello.”