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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

allfireburns.livejournal.com

It was called Women Wept, and Rose always loved that name, not just for the shape of the continent, but because the name was just as sad and beautiful as the planet itself. She always talked about the beach, the towering waves of ice, a whole raging storm frozen in an instant. She never told the whole story – not to Mickey or Jackie or anyone. Some things she kept to herself.

She never told anyone that shortly after they got there, she noticed dark shapes moving across the ice, coming toward them, and by the time any of them figured out what they were - once sledge dogs, now feral and apparently bloody hungry - the three of them had to turn and run for their lives. It was a common theme of life with the Doctor, she'd informed Jack. Running. He didn't seem too encouraged by that.

She didn't tell people that Jack killed two of the dogs with his sonic blaster before the Doctor knocked it out of his hand, though not quickly enough. The remaining dogs yelped and scattered, and the three of them watched as the sonic shockwave hit wall after all of ice, and one by one, slowly, gracefully, the frozen waves shivered and collapsed – one of them directly onto the TARDIS. The Doctor said nothing, just tossed the blaster across the ice with an expression black as storm clouds, and Jack didn't even try chasing after it.

She didn't ever mention the way the three of them huddled in a tiny ice cave, Jack curled around Rose for warmth, the Doctor hunched into his coat, arms folded over his chest and seemingly unaffected by the cold. Jack had draped his coat over both of them, and while she started the night with her back against his chest, at some point she rolled over and buried her face into his neck, nuzzling against his collarbone. Jack froze for a second, like he expected the Doctor to break his neck if he tried anything, then tightened his arms around her, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

She didn't give the slightest hint she heard the Doctor and Jack arguing when they thought she was asleep, about how Jack just might have doomed them to freeze to death while the Doctor kept threatening to leave him here on the ice if they actually survived. Rose closed her eyes a little tighter, pressed closer to Jack, and whimpered a little, as if in a nightmare. The Doctor fell silent. Jack shifted a little, studying the Doctor's face, and then curled around Rose again, and she fell asleep there, shivering just slightly even with the warmth of him next to her.

She never talked about how after they managed to get the TARDIS back, something to do with makeshift external controls keyed to Jack's wristband, the three of them tumbled through the doors in a rush, all eager to get back in the heat – Rose had been starting to wonder if she'd ever be able to feel her fingers again. She laughed, finding herself again in the green-gold wamrth of the console room, and spun around to grab Jack and kiss him full on the lips. Before the Doctor could even begin to sulk, she grabbed him, kissed him too, and then went and collapsed on the seat beside the console, too tired to even make the extra effort to get to her room.

She never told anyone that Jack carried her to her room that night, the Doctor following protectively behind. That she grabbed Jack's hand after he set her down, before he could pull back, and refused to let him leave her just yet. That she pulled Jack down to lie beside her, and eventually convinced the Doctor to join them, on her other side. That she spent the night with her back pressed against Jack, his warmth at her back, her face pressed against the Doctor's chest, her palm flat against his cool skin.

That one, they didn't tell anyone. They just remembered, Rose and the Doctor and Jack. Not a secret, just... theirs. The Doctor landed on Women Wept once with Martha, took one step outside, and then turned around, closing the door tightly behind him. "Sorry, wrong planet," he said with a bright, false smile. "Let's try again, shall we? Somewhere with a beach, I think."

Some things you kept to yourself.

Requests: Jack Harkness/Yvonne Hartman, Tenth Doctor/Maggie (from "A Day in the Death"), The Master/Tish Jones

Edited Date: 2008-06-21 05:38 pm (UTC)

From:

flo-nelja.livejournal.com

[Note : thank to

settiai for the betareading !]

The worst thing is that she had actually thought about it, in happier days. It seems like a lifetime ago now.

When she phoned her friends to tell them the good news about her new job, a few of them observed that Harold Saxon had quite a reputation as a ladies' man. Most were just joking, but a few actually sounded worried when they warned Tish to be careful.

Tish had actually thought it might not be so bad if he was interested in her.

She supported him politically, and - to be honest - she found him attractive. He was powerful, clever, charismatic, and quite handsome. It wouldn't be unpleasant to have such a man wanting her. If he asked, she wouldn't say no to a little affair behind his wife's back, a thing of no consequence. She wouldn't be hurt as long as she was careful not to something foolish like fall in love with him.

But hate hurts so much more. Back then, she didn't know a person could have so much hate.

He made them his slaves. He constantly tortures their bodies and minds. When he orders her - always with his sickest smile - to join him in his room, she keeps her calm in front of her parents. After everything that he's made them see, after all they've learned about humiliation, horror, and fear... does he think he can break them with just that? He's beginning to lack imagination.

And eventually, he probably just wants to hurt someone else: Martha, or the Doctor, or his wife. Tish doesn't know exactly who. When he takes her, in madness and violence, he doesn't try to break her. He doesn't even pay attention to her.

No, the worst thing isn't how she used to feel. It's the horror she feels when, deep inside her mind, she finds that she has yearned for it.

Requests : Simm!Master/Ten, Ainley!Master/Adric, Simm!Master/Lucy/Tish Jones

From:

allfireburns.livejournal.com

"I'm sorry."

Maggie smiled at him, the old bitter smile, and shook her head. "No you're not. You don't have to say it just to be polite."

"No, I... I really am sorry." The Doctor eyed her from across the console, his expression painfully sincere, and eventually Maggie had to look away. Sympathy she was used to, but the way he looked at her... it was like he genuinely hurt for her. It wasn't a comfortable feeling.

"Blimey," he muttered after a minute, "am I ever going to meet anyone with a normal wedding day?"

"What?" she asked, looking up.

"Oh, it's... it's complicated," he said, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture.

"You say that a lot."

"It usually is." Beat. "Complicated, I mean."

Maggie rolled her eyes. "Don't I know it. It's not like you do anything to make it less complicated." She circled slowly around the console, trailing her fingers over the controls while taking care not to actually turn any dials, flip any switches. She stopped at his side, and looked up at him with raised eyebrows. "We're not really going to sit here all day, are we?"

The Doctor stared at her for a moment, his expression something she couldn't quite parse, and then jumped to the controls, leaning forward and past her to reach something. "Right! Of course! Ever onwards... Where d'you want to go, then? Your choice!"

"As if I'd even know where there is to go. You're just asking me to be polite, aren't you?"

Still leaned halfway over the console, he grinned at her over his shoulder. "Well, yeah, but it seemed like the thing to do. You mind?"

Maggie laughed, and stepped back to drop onto the jump seat. "Considering it's you, I'll take what I can get."

Requests: Maggie Hopley/Sally Sparrow, Harriet Jones/Yvonne Hartman, Jack Harkness/Geoffrey Chaucer

From:

allfireburns.livejournal.com

Yvonne was not supposed to be here today. It was supposed to be a quiet, pleasant day in the office, and then a spacecraft had to go and crash into the Thames. Well, that was Torchwood for you. Even with that, she normally would have still been in office - send out a response team, monitor them from the tower, not a problem. [...]

A Proportional Response (http://find-rightbrain.livejournal.com/129055.html) (1763 words)

Requests: Giacomo Casanova/Jack Harkness, Shalka!Doctor/Alison Cheney, Reinette Poisson/River Song

From:

starletfallen.livejournal.com

At the time, Maggie blamed it on those damn koalas. They'd just spent an entire day and the better part of an evening trying to figure out why the Doctor was running around trying to build something that confused them but looked like it might be relatively explosive before they realised that the little koala like things had saliva that made you... do stupid things.

Or, more accurately, it made you think that really bad ideas were the best ideas ever.

Neither Maggie nor Sally had gotten licked by the little buggers, but they'd had some second-hand contact at some point during the day, and it was obviously still affecting her when, after depositing the Doctor in the infirmary to figure out an antidote to the chemicals, she pushed Sally against the wall and snogged her. And, clearly, Sally was still affected, because after a moment of surprise, she snogged back.

Of course, that didn't explain Sally's grin when Maggie finally pulled back, or why Sally flipped them around so that Maggie was the one pinned against the wall getting snogged (just for a moment), or why, three hours later when the Doctor burst in with the antidote and then fled when he saw them sleepily entangled on the bed and completely naked, the two of them burst out laughing before snogging a little more. And it definitely didn't explain how, three weeks later, they were still sharing a bed, quite contentedly, though they made sure not to point that out to the Doctor, lest he splutter and blush himself to death.

So maybe it wasn't the damn koalas after all.

Requests: Rose Tyler/Astrid Peth, Rose Tyler/Gwen Cooper, Jack Harkness/Tish Jones

Edited Date: 2009-03-08 05:39 am (UTC)