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I bet you thought I'd forgotten about this, huh, c_quinn? Well...think again!
Title: Insanity Is Relative
Fandom: Reaper/Doctor Who
Characters: Sam, Donna
Summary: Response to this First Kiss Meme from, like, 3 billion years ago. Sam gets a little help, reaping wise ;)
Rating: PG
He’s pretty sure she’s insane, from the first moment he sees her.
While everyone else in the building is reacting the way he’d very much like to, in the face of what appears to be a gigantic spider-human-mutant thing descending upon them, running like crazy out the much too small doors, she is, really, really not.
She’s looking at the soul like it’s something she recognizes, mouth open as if trying to find words to describe the reason why she’s not running away in the face of the gigantic spider-human-mutant thing.
“You have got to be kidding me,” is what she finally seems to have decided on, in a drawling British accent, as the creature sidles up right next to her and makes horribly clicky noises right in her face.
And then, between him panicking about not reaching her in time, and being in awe at the fact that she’s stood her ground, and almost passing out, he hazily sees her kick the thing in the place where, if human-spider-mutant things can be male, and are put together just right, would make it especially painful.
Apparently they are, because it collapses into a hissing, clicking mess of legs and arms and spider…things, and she runs.
And then stops, right in front of him.
“What are you, stupid?” she bellows. “Come on!”
And then he’s being dragged out into the street, a hand yanking at his, to the point that he starts wondering if his arm really can be pulled out of its socket, making him stumble onto the sidewalk when she lets go.
“Come on, then…if that doesn’t bring him back I don’t know what…flippin’ enormous bloody thing like that…” she’s looking up at the sky, for some reason, and doesn’t look exactly bothered by any of this. Breathlessly anticipant, more like it. “’s got to be enough trouble for him…”
Which is more than he can say for himself. He’s still not sure if he’ll ever breath again.
It just had to be a stupid spider creature.
“Who are you, then?” she’s looking at him, red hair falling in her face as she offers him a hand up.
He waves her away, then struggles up.
“Are you okay?” he asks, watching as she looks up again, shakes her head.
“Fine,” she glances back down at him, quickly, then back into the air. Before looking down again, more slowly, brown eyes suspicious. “It’s not…you’re not him, are you?”
“What? Am I…who?” Her gaze was starting to get unnerving. What kind of person was more interested in him than in whatever weirdness was going on?
“The Doctor. You’re not…no, even he wouldn’t be that thick,” she shakes her head, frowns. “But where is he, then? You’d think-“
“What’s going on?” and he realizes it’s been a while, since, in the middle of a potential disaster, he wasn’t the person most qualified to answer that.
The woman sighs, and she had to be the first person he’s ever met who can manage to make that alone an insult to his intelligence.
“What’s going on, young man, is that there’s a huge, flippin’ alien spider hanging round,” she blusters, looking up at the sky again. “Not quite sure how you managed to miss that, but-“
“It’s not an alien,” he says, and is ignored.
“And now we’ve just got to wait till he comes by and fixes things up. Just like him, though. Wait till the last possible minute to-“
“But I’m supposed to-“
“What?” she looks at him again, and he has to keep himself from running way.
“I’m supposed to…it’s…well, it’s not an alien,” he mumbles, as she scowls at him.
“What the bloody hell else is it, then?”
“It’s a…well, we think it…it’s an escaped soul from hell?”
The woman just cocks her head, and gives him what’s got to be the oldest look in the world.
“An escaped soul. From hell,” she gives a small laugh. “Right, then.”
“You…believe me?”
She laughs again, shrugs. “Hardly the strangest thing I’ve seen, mate. Doesn’t even make the top ten, this past year.”
“Okay,” he swallows, knowing that he doesn’t have time to think about that more closely. “So what I’ve got to do is run in there hit it with this and-“
“Wait, what you’ve got to do?” she sputters, shaking her head. “What are you, twelve?”
“I’m twenty-one!”
“You’re an embryo!” she scoffs. “Give it here!”
“It’s my job!” he says petulantly, clinging to the vessel for all it’s worth.
“Fine! ” she snorts, “Get yourself killed, then!”
“I’m not going to get myself killed!”
“Barging in there with just a…what is that, a...is that a bleeding flute?”
“It’s a…vessel…crafted in the…” he winces and shakes his head. “Look, I just have to go in there and then I’ll…”
“You’re going to run in there, vessel a-blazing, and get eaten right off the bat, that’s what you’re going to do, if I let you- ”
“I am not-“
“Typical male,” she says, with a frighteningly devious gleam in her brown eyes. “Out here wasting time, when you could’ve just-”
“Hey, it’s not-“ and he doesn’t even register the speed at which she must have closed the space between them, and grabbed his face in her hands. “Hey, what are you-“
And then it becomes pretty obvious what she was doing, because she’s doing it.
Kissing him with enough force to send him stumbling back in shock, and then grabbing the cool metal tube from his limp hand and pushing him to the ground before he could do anything about it.
“Hey…you…ma’am!” he yelled after her, scrambling up to follow her back into the opera house. “Are you just insane or-“
He pauses a few feet away from the doors, dumbstruck at the figure that staggers out.
Covered in some sort of horribly brown-purple slime, clinging onto the surprisingly clean vessel, with a somewhat glazed look in her eyes but a smile on her face.
“That…” she beams, thrusting the oddly warm flute into his hand, and he’s stunned enough to ignore the smell. “That…was…wicked.”
*
Title: Insanity Is Relative
Fandom: Reaper/Doctor Who
Characters: Sam, Donna
Summary: Response to this First Kiss Meme from, like, 3 billion years ago. Sam gets a little help, reaping wise ;)
Rating: PG
He’s pretty sure she’s insane, from the first moment he sees her.
While everyone else in the building is reacting the way he’d very much like to, in the face of what appears to be a gigantic spider-human-mutant thing descending upon them, running like crazy out the much too small doors, she is, really, really not.
She’s looking at the soul like it’s something she recognizes, mouth open as if trying to find words to describe the reason why she’s not running away in the face of the gigantic spider-human-mutant thing.
“You have got to be kidding me,” is what she finally seems to have decided on, in a drawling British accent, as the creature sidles up right next to her and makes horribly clicky noises right in her face.
And then, between him panicking about not reaching her in time, and being in awe at the fact that she’s stood her ground, and almost passing out, he hazily sees her kick the thing in the place where, if human-spider-mutant things can be male, and are put together just right, would make it especially painful.
Apparently they are, because it collapses into a hissing, clicking mess of legs and arms and spider…things, and she runs.
And then stops, right in front of him.
“What are you, stupid?” she bellows. “Come on!”
And then he’s being dragged out into the street, a hand yanking at his, to the point that he starts wondering if his arm really can be pulled out of its socket, making him stumble onto the sidewalk when she lets go.
“Come on, then…if that doesn’t bring him back I don’t know what…flippin’ enormous bloody thing like that…” she’s looking up at the sky, for some reason, and doesn’t look exactly bothered by any of this. Breathlessly anticipant, more like it. “’s got to be enough trouble for him…”
Which is more than he can say for himself. He’s still not sure if he’ll ever breath again.
It just had to be a stupid spider creature.
“Who are you, then?” she’s looking at him, red hair falling in her face as she offers him a hand up.
He waves her away, then struggles up.
“Are you okay?” he asks, watching as she looks up again, shakes her head.
“Fine,” she glances back down at him, quickly, then back into the air. Before looking down again, more slowly, brown eyes suspicious. “It’s not…you’re not him, are you?”
“What? Am I…who?” Her gaze was starting to get unnerving. What kind of person was more interested in him than in whatever weirdness was going on?
“The Doctor. You’re not…no, even he wouldn’t be that thick,” she shakes her head, frowns. “But where is he, then? You’d think-“
“What’s going on?” and he realizes it’s been a while, since, in the middle of a potential disaster, he wasn’t the person most qualified to answer that.
The woman sighs, and she had to be the first person he’s ever met who can manage to make that alone an insult to his intelligence.
“What’s going on, young man, is that there’s a huge, flippin’ alien spider hanging round,” she blusters, looking up at the sky again. “Not quite sure how you managed to miss that, but-“
“It’s not an alien,” he says, and is ignored.
“And now we’ve just got to wait till he comes by and fixes things up. Just like him, though. Wait till the last possible minute to-“
“But I’m supposed to-“
“What?” she looks at him again, and he has to keep himself from running way.
“I’m supposed to…it’s…well, it’s not an alien,” he mumbles, as she scowls at him.
“What the bloody hell else is it, then?”
“It’s a…well, we think it…it’s an escaped soul from hell?”
The woman just cocks her head, and gives him what’s got to be the oldest look in the world.
“An escaped soul. From hell,” she gives a small laugh. “Right, then.”
“You…believe me?”
She laughs again, shrugs. “Hardly the strangest thing I’ve seen, mate. Doesn’t even make the top ten, this past year.”
“Okay,” he swallows, knowing that he doesn’t have time to think about that more closely. “So what I’ve got to do is run in there hit it with this and-“
“Wait, what you’ve got to do?” she sputters, shaking her head. “What are you, twelve?”
“I’m twenty-one!”
“You’re an embryo!” she scoffs. “Give it here!”
“It’s my job!” he says petulantly, clinging to the vessel for all it’s worth.
“Fine! ” she snorts, “Get yourself killed, then!”
“I’m not going to get myself killed!”
“Barging in there with just a…what is that, a...is that a bleeding flute?”
“It’s a…vessel…crafted in the…” he winces and shakes his head. “Look, I just have to go in there and then I’ll…”
“You’re going to run in there, vessel a-blazing, and get eaten right off the bat, that’s what you’re going to do, if I let you- ”
“I am not-“
“Typical male,” she says, with a frighteningly devious gleam in her brown eyes. “Out here wasting time, when you could’ve just-”
“Hey, it’s not-“ and he doesn’t even register the speed at which she must have closed the space between them, and grabbed his face in her hands. “Hey, what are you-“
And then it becomes pretty obvious what she was doing, because she’s doing it.
Kissing him with enough force to send him stumbling back in shock, and then grabbing the cool metal tube from his limp hand and pushing him to the ground before he could do anything about it.
“Hey…you…ma’am!” he yelled after her, scrambling up to follow her back into the opera house. “Are you just insane or-“
He pauses a few feet away from the doors, dumbstruck at the figure that staggers out.
Covered in some sort of horribly brown-purple slime, clinging onto the surprisingly clean vessel, with a somewhat glazed look in her eyes but a smile on her face.
“That…” she beams, thrusting the oddly warm flute into his hand, and he’s stunned enough to ignore the smell. “That…was…wicked.”
*