Fic: Missed Opportunity
Title: Missed Opportunity
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: T
Words: 451
Summary: During intimacy, Alistair calls the whole thing off.
Notes: Written for self_preserving, prompt was the Brig/Liz, TARDIS. Turn #4
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"I can't do this-" Through the haze of endorphins and sweat, Alistair stops kissing and touching long enough to hover above her, his dog tags brushing her bra clad chest.
"What?" Only partially unclothed, Liz is confused. How was this not what he wanted? For years, they have spent their lives apart, mostly arguing about wives and then ex-wives, research projects and the distance between HQ and Cambridge. Their timing has never been more perfect than right now, and he's questioning it?
"It's just-We're here, Elizabeth. We're in outer space." He shifts, leaning on one knee while running a hand through his ruffled hair.
"We're in the TARDIS. Not outer space. Hardly the same thing."
"Yes, but you know as well as I do that the Doctor never stays out of trouble for very long." His eyes look at her in earnest now. "And if this is our one-shot, I don't want it to be spoiled by alien invaders or him barging in about some ridiculous thing he's found."
"Why would this only be a one-shot as you so aptly put it? Why couldn't this be a thousand shot or a million shot? I know I’m looking to the future. What are you not telling me?" She watches Alistair stand, hunting for his shirt.
"Nothing."
"Oh, it's not nothing. You know something-" Liz flips her legs over the bed, intending on finding her own shirt. "And I'm willing to guess the Doctor knows it as well."
"He knows a great deal of things about the universe, but not this." Alistair pulls his shirt on, pulling out the collar and then working on his buttons. "We really can't afford to be indiscreet when we're God knows when, in some bedroom the TARDIS has conjured, and we don't even know where we're going. It's not smart."
"You heard the Doctor. We're on the way to Frekanza IV, delivering medical supplies for a disease that the Doctor equates to small pox. And since when have you worried about the TARDIS? You've told me you've traveled in her once or twice, now and again."
"Yes, but never like this." Picking it up from its ball on the floor, Alistair holds her shirt out. "Never with some I-"
"Never someone you what?"
"Never mind. Just fix yourself so we can check on the Doctor."
"I think that's a great idea." Liz pulls her shirt over her head. "And as soon as he's able, I want to return to Earth. You were right about your one-shot. Don't think I'll forget it either."
With her shirt straight, Liz stomps out as Alistair follows behind, wishing he could erase the last minute of their history.
--
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: T
Words: 451
Summary: During intimacy, Alistair calls the whole thing off.
Notes: Written for self_preserving, prompt was the Brig/Liz, TARDIS. Turn #4
--
"I can't do this-" Through the haze of endorphins and sweat, Alistair stops kissing and touching long enough to hover above her, his dog tags brushing her bra clad chest.
"What?" Only partially unclothed, Liz is confused. How was this not what he wanted? For years, they have spent their lives apart, mostly arguing about wives and then ex-wives, research projects and the distance between HQ and Cambridge. Their timing has never been more perfect than right now, and he's questioning it?
"It's just-We're here, Elizabeth. We're in outer space." He shifts, leaning on one knee while running a hand through his ruffled hair.
"We're in the TARDIS. Not outer space. Hardly the same thing."
"Yes, but you know as well as I do that the Doctor never stays out of trouble for very long." His eyes look at her in earnest now. "And if this is our one-shot, I don't want it to be spoiled by alien invaders or him barging in about some ridiculous thing he's found."
"Why would this only be a one-shot as you so aptly put it? Why couldn't this be a thousand shot or a million shot? I know I’m looking to the future. What are you not telling me?" She watches Alistair stand, hunting for his shirt.
"Nothing."
"Oh, it's not nothing. You know something-" Liz flips her legs over the bed, intending on finding her own shirt. "And I'm willing to guess the Doctor knows it as well."
"He knows a great deal of things about the universe, but not this." Alistair pulls his shirt on, pulling out the collar and then working on his buttons. "We really can't afford to be indiscreet when we're God knows when, in some bedroom the TARDIS has conjured, and we don't even know where we're going. It's not smart."
"You heard the Doctor. We're on the way to Frekanza IV, delivering medical supplies for a disease that the Doctor equates to small pox. And since when have you worried about the TARDIS? You've told me you've traveled in her once or twice, now and again."
"Yes, but never like this." Picking it up from its ball on the floor, Alistair holds her shirt out. "Never with some I-"
"Never someone you what?"
"Never mind. Just fix yourself so we can check on the Doctor."
"I think that's a great idea." Liz pulls her shirt over her head. "And as soon as he's able, I want to return to Earth. You were right about your one-shot. Don't think I'll forget it either."
With her shirt straight, Liz stomps out as Alistair follows behind, wishing he could erase the last minute of their history.
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