#“she’d be stroking a rat somewhere or staring out of the window”“she won’t pick a phone up mate”

[tikhagurur]

the “i’d like to see helaena rule” to “i probably not want to take helaena home to my parents” pipelineֶָ֢

[cthulhuoflongisland]

Fem Roadrat fic below, they’re in love and they bang:

They tore out of Australia like Mako’s fist through a paper screen.

That had been the easy part. The mad dash in the raft to get out, fueled by adrenaline and the knowledge that if Junkrat kept running her gigantic mouth, Mako would be out of a job quicker than it began. The world deserves this, she tells herself as Junkrat chatters away beside her, contained energy making her muscles shake and her voice come out high and giggling. She can’t let this scrawny slip of a woman get choked out before she gives this godforsaken planet what it’s earned, after all.

Junkrat fills Mako’s silence easily, fingers twitching and eyes wild. She never stops for more than a minute, but forgets frequently what she’s talking about. She has no regret or remorse for what she plans to do, or the destruction she plans to bring. She delights, in fact, at the possibility of it without an ounce of shame. Without tears or hesitation or any reflection at all.

The world deserves this, Mako tells herself.

The world deserves this.

--------------------

The hard part comes much later, shoved into a tiny motel room with one bathroom and a shower so small it wouldn’t fit half of Mako’s body. There’s a single queen-sized bed, and for now Mako’s claimed it, thumbing through a water-stained romance novel as Junkrat tries and fails to relax.

The heart pounding exhilaration has receded, after a lot of heists and daring escapes, and now they’re forced to hole up in places like these between jobs. At first, the novelty of vaguely soft sheets and tiny bottles of shampoo were enough to stave off Junkrat’s complaints, but she’s bent over the desk now, tinkering with her arm and periodically letting out growls of frustration. More accurately, Junkrat is cycling between taking apart and reassembling her prosthetic for twenty minutes at a time and then pacing around the room with a sour look on her face while Mako silently rereads the same paragraph about Elizabeth tearing her corset off to succumb to her base desires. 

The cycle breaks when Junkrat flings herself onto Mako’s belly in a display of aggravation that’s so familiar at this point that Mako doesn’t bother to push her away or tell her to knock it off, or even look up from her book. 

“ Roadie.”

She turns the page.

“ Roadie.”

“ What.”

Junkrat tries to hide the stupid smile she gets on her face every time Mako responds to her, like Mako hasn’t learned to pick up on it. She wriggles to a position where she can look up into the eyeholes of Mako’s mask, which requires her to shove her head under the romance novel Mako has yet to put down and rest her pointy, pointy chin on Mako’s rather expansive breasts.

“ Was just wonderin’ when you’d be finished.”

Mako rolls her eyes goodnaturedly, too used to this game to be truly irritated. “ Won’t be for a while if you keep this up.”

Junkrat squishes her sharp cheek against Mako’s cleavage, like they’re well-worn pillows and not human flesh. Mako’s gotten used to the sharp pinch of her, and lays the book down with a sigh. She lays her massive palm on top of Junkrat’s head, pushing her face into Mako’s chest, which makes her cackle and squirm, like she couldn’t suffocate and die there if Mako willed it. Mako ignores the fluttering feeling in her stomach when Junkrat stills and relaxes, only barely twitching when Mako withdraws her hand.

Those eyes meet hers as Junkrat begins to chatter again, subdued and almost focused. Mako silently strokes a thumb over her jaw as she listens, absorbing nothing, not willing to acknowledge that she could spend forever like this.

---------------------------------------

Junkrat stands there, wreathed in flame as she throws her head back and howls with laughter, like all she could ever want is this destruction. Like it fuels her. Makes her. She’s nothing but fire in the vague shape of a woman, lithe muscles glistening in the warm light. If Mako were a weaker woman, she’d fall to her knees and worship her in awed silence, but instead she looks away and stares at the shattered glass of the suits’ offices, as if she can’t see Junkrat’s reflection in the pieces. 

She loves her then. It burns (God, it burns) just like the heat that radiates off of her, her blonde hair wild and stained with soot, a reminder that Junkrat claws her way into everything and everyone with no regard for anything but herself. Mako savors it as she fires bullets into the back of another snivelling billionaire, ready to let it cave her chest in. They all deserve what they get, and Mako meets their empty pleas with the pull of her trigger. The ones that charge her find their skulls crushed and their lips silent, and it’s only when all of them are dead that she realizes her lungs are rattling and she’s bent over a broken desk. 

Junkrat’s fingers are at her back, scorching hot, and suddenly her mask is filled with gas. Mako gasps it in and feels her lungs clear with every breath, Junkrat’s metal hand pressing the canister to its opening until it clatters to the floor, empty. Her smile is wild and crooked as it ever was, and God, she has no idea. No idea what Mako would do to kiss that smile, to keep it on her lips all the time. 

Mako can’t pretend anymore after that, but stays silent. 

There are some things she doesn’t deserve.

-----------------------------------

In another motel, a coast away somewhere on Long Island, Mako lays next to Rat on a bed too small for either of them. It’s four in the morning, too dark to see and too cold for summer, but Junkrat has been talking for hours now, mostly to herself. Mako lets her, knowing that she’ll eventually trick her brain into shutting off, and quietly enjoys the drone of Junkrat’s mismatched ideas. She’s half-way to dozing when Junkrat turns to face her, groping for her arm in the dark.

“ You listenin’ to me?”

Mako grunts, not in the mood to speak.

“ I said, what was it like? B’fore the omnium?”

Mako grits her teeth, letting out a long breath. She hates this question. It always comes back to this, and no amount of silence can deter Junkrat from asking.

“ Less fucked up. Bugs were a lot smaller.”

She can practically feel Junkrat’s eyes roll, and she slaps the mattress in frustration. “ Fuck’s sake, you really weren’t listenin’, were you? I was talkin’ about pickin’ up girls. Used to be easier, didn’t it?”

Mako really must have been half-asleep, because she has no fucking idea how Junkrat stumbled onto this subject. She’s suddenly wide awake, not sure if she’s about to give herself away.

“...Some ways. Depends on why you were pickin’ ‘em up.” Fucking got a lot easier in the wasteland. There were no more nice bars for Mako to sit at, making women blush and taking their numbers home. It all became physical, rougher and faster and leaving Mako wanting for something deeper.

Rat shifts, incentivized by such a long response. “ Yeah? Bet you were good at it.” Her voice lowers a little, and her hand stays on Mako’s bicep. “ Ladies love the big quiet types. Ain’t ever had much luck, m’self, squawkin’ ‘n spillin’ my drinks.”

Mako sits up, her stomach turning at where this is headed. She can’t bring herself to shrug Rat off and go back to sleep, though. Her heart pounds against her rib-cage, and it’s as if she’s found something she’d thought had burned away years ago. Her mouth opens, and she can’t stop the words from spilling out of her throat. 

“ You’re young. Pretty. Wait a while longer and someone’ll snatch you up.”

Junkrat jerks away, like Mako’s reached out and shocked her. A truck passes by and the light that blares through the window lets Mako see her face, chapped lips parted in surprise and those big, amber eyes wider than Mako’s ever seen them. She wonders if Rat can see her, too, and if the brief flash of light makes her look half as perfect.

“ Since when d’you think I’m pretty?”

Mako pauses, unsure of how to answer, but Rat snatches up the silence and fills it herself. 

“ Are you tellin’ me we coulda been fucking this whole time an’ here I was thinkin’ you didn’t like me?”

“Jesus,” says Mako, rubbing a hand over her face, “ I said you’re pretty. I didn’t say I wanted to fist you.”

“ But that’s what you meant!” Rat is suddenly climbing on top of her, jittery and overjoyed. “ I know I ain’t pretty. That’s just what people say when they wanna get in my pants.”

Mako’s heart sinks, her face softening as she strokes the hair out of Rat’s face and behind her ear. “ Rat.” Her hand runs down to trace over Junkrat’s features, worshipping them in the dark instead of just fantasizing about it. “ You’re pretty.”

Rat slows, awed by Mako’s admiration. She lays flat against Mako’s body, so their faces are inches apart, her breath tickling Mako’s cheek. Mako wonders how many stupid men have called her ugly, told her she was too bony, too tall, too strange to be attractive. Mako would kill all of them with her bare hands if she could find them.

“ I’m not saying that to fuck you. I just want you to know.”

Rat nuzzles against Mako’s palm like an affectionate cat, and then steals a kiss from Mako’s scarred, unsuspecting lips. Her nose pokes Mako’s cheek, and her back arches when Mako��s hands, huge and strong and warm, wrap around her tiny waist. Mako feels herself fall into that heat almost instinctively, her surprise melting away and giving rise to slow pleasure.

“ I think yer pretty, too,” says Rat as she pulls away with a smack, filling Mako’s silence for the millionth time, “ Real pretty. You make me wetter ‘n a hurricane.”

Mako snorts, but doesn’t take her hands off Rat, who melds against her like liquid metal. “ Romantic.” She kneads Rat’s tense shoulders, and lays her chin against the top of her head. Rat never could beat around the bush.

“ I’m tryin’ my best!” Rat squishes Mako’s cheeks together, her metal leg catching the sheets as she drags herself up Mako’s body, hips already squirming. “ ‘s kinda hard to set the mood when I know you’d fuck me now!”

“ Never said that.” Mako’s hands, reaching down to squeeze Rat’s hips and feel her shiver, betray her cool tone. She’s already restraining herself, hungry but tender. She’d never forgive herself if she cracked Rat’s bones or left bruises just because she’s been so starved. She deserves to be savored. Treasured. 

Loved.

Rat starts to kiss up her neck, and Mako moans, feeling that wicked smile in the hollow of her shoulder. She feels up Rat’s flat ass, massaging those bony hips that never stop jerking against her, biting her lip at the sensation of a woman’s feverish flesh finally under her fingers again.

Rat wriggles out of the torn tank-top she throws on every cold night, and God, dear God, Mako can’t help but slide her hands up to Rat’s soft, bite-sized tits, pinching them just to hear her gasp. She wants to bury her face in them, feel Rat’s mechanical fingers tangle in her hair as she covers her chest in dark hickies. The smell of her, gunpowder and smoke and faint sweat, is enough to drive Mako wild with long suppressed desire, her head swimming as she tries to make Rat out in the dark.

Rat has no time for such romantic gestures. She flicks the table lamp on after a few times fumbling in the dark, panting, “ Lemme see you, Hoggy, c’mon, lemme see-,” and delights when Mako is suddenly bathed in warm light, maskless and flushed and letting out low, deep groans as Rat grinds against her crotch. Mako’s chest swells with pride when Rat licks her lips, stripping down to nothing and lifting Mako’s worn t-shirt in such a frenzy it’s as if she can’t help herself. She leans down to roll a nipple between her teeth, and Mako holds her there, huffing through her nose.

“ Rat,” she wheezes, “ Slower.”

She pulls Rat’s head out of the cleavage she’s created by pushing Mako’s breasts together and kisses her again, overtaking her thin lips to feel her melt and shiver, both hands grabbing at Mako’s loose hair. Mako squeezes her hips, her ass, her thighs, never hard enough to bruise, and listens to her muffled moans as Rat desperately slides her tongue into Mako’s mouth, tracing her sharp incisors. She vibrates with impatience, pawing at Mako’s covered crotch as she’s held there before she jerks her head out of Mako’s hands.

“ Fuck,” she breathes, still shaking as she presses her forehead to Mako’s, “ please, Hog. I can’t wait no more. I can’t, I can’t, please please please-”

Mako can’t deny her what she wants. What she deserves. She lifts her by the waist effortlessly and sets her spread thighs down on her face, not unlike she’s imagined thousands of times. Rat cries out for her tongue, which pushes into her slick, warm pussy without hesitation and pistons in and out of her until Rat shrieks so loud someone pounds their fist against the wall in the room next to theirs. She lets out high, begging whimpers when Mako sucks her clit between her thick, practiced lips, her thighs pillowing Mako’s head even as she cums, tongue lolling out as her voice chokes in her throat. 

Mako feels the familiar burn deep in her gut as Rat slides back down to kiss her cheeks, her wide nose, every scratch and mole and acne scar. She rubs her cheek to Mako’s like it doesn’t feel like sandpaper, so lovely in her nakedness that Mako can barely stand it. She yanks Mako’s pajama pants down low enough to stick the fingers of her flesh hand inside, still kissing her and murmuring slurred praise. She furiously rubs Mako’s clit, engorged with arousal as two long fingers slip inside her without any struggle at all. She moans for Rat as she’s fingerfucked by shaking hands, which pound the spot inside her that makes her roll her hips and kiss Rat’s pleased grin until she clamps around her and bites her long, tanned neck to keep from having the cranky heterosexual yuppie next door report them to the manager.

She lays there half exposed as she catches her breath, her arms wrapped around Rat’s waist as the lanky little minx snuggles against her, grinning deliriously. She’s so tender when she kisses Rat’s forehead that she feels her heart clench inside her chest, gently rubbing circles into Rat’s naked ass as her muscles relax. 

Rat in turn feels Mako’s biceps up with lazy joy, giggling in between pants.

“ Ain’t never thought that was gonna happen outside my head.”

Mako grunts in agreement, and Rat begins to babble again. She passes out to the sweet cacophony with the light still glowing beside them, and doesn’t wake up until noon the next day.

----------------------------------

Things don’t change as much as Mako worries. Rat is no less fierce in battle, not regretful or ashamed of what they do every night they can manage. She holds Mako’s arm tighter now, calls her by her real name when they’re alone, screams at anyone who openly looks Mako up and down to sneer at her to keep their eyes off her girlfriend. She is just as rough and jagged as always, and Mako is so proud. So grateful to have this gleaming piece of desert glass stuck to her side, stealing her lingerie and black jewelry from the malls they loot. They murder the people who’ve earned their death, steal what they want, and have their wanted posters hung up in teenage girls’ bedrooms. 

They leave the States to hide in some obscure Sicilian village where no one could understand their accents even if they were speaking the right dialect. People give them a wide berth when they sit together in the bar there, holding hands as casually as Rat orders Mako the most expensive cocktail on the indecipherable menu by jabbing at the picture and demanding it in some of the most atrocious Italian ever spoken.

When it comes, pink and sweet as Mako used to enjoy all the time, Rat slaps her on the back with a wide grin.

“ Go on, mate! You deserve it!”

“ Yeah,” Mako tips her mask up and smiles, “ Guess I do.”

[thelittlesttimelord]

The Littlest Timelord: The Death of the Doctor Chapter 10

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: The Death of the Doctor Chapter 10 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 10/? SUMMARY: The Doctor’s death is looming on the horizon and Elise is growing every day. What the Doctor doesn’t know is that he has 200 years to teach Elise all he knows. Amy, Rory, and River let Elise in on their secret, because River knows she will keep it. What will Elise do when he’s gone?

[A/N - We’ve made it to the double digits! I am so excited for the next chapter! I’ve got an emotional scene planned that will forever change the relationship between Elise and the Doctor.]

Elise watched as Amy paced back and forth.

“What's wrong?” Rory asked her.

“The most beautiful thing you've ever seen?”

“Oh, tell me I didn't really say that.”

Amy laughed at his embarrassment.

The first mate and the other pirate started to break down the barricade in front of the door.

“What's going on?” Amy asked them.

“We're not staying here to mollycoddle the boy. The Captain's gone soft. It's time for us to leave,” the first mate told her.

Elise and Toby stood up.

“He told you to wait, you dog. He's your Captain, a Naval Officer. You're honor-bound to do as he tells you,” Toby said.

“Honor-bound? Do you know what kind of ship this is? Do you know what your father does?” the first mate asked him.

Amy wrapped an arm around his shoulders and stroked the back of his head. “Don't listen to him, Toby.”

“We sail under the black flag. The Jolly Roger.”

“Liar! He's no wicked pirate!” Toby yelled.

“Oh, you think so? I have seen your father gun down a thousand innocent men.”

“Get what treasure you can. I'll meet you in the row boat,” the first mate told his fellow pirate.

Toby rummaged around and found a sword. “You're going to remain at your post,” he told them.

“I am not playing games with you, boy. You put that down.”

“One more step and I'll use this, you blaggard.”

Elise admired Toby’s bravery.

“You don't know how to fight with a cutlass, boy.”

“Don't need to, do I.” He swiped down and cut the first mate on the hand.

“No. You little swabber!”

“Congratulations. You made it to the menu. Probably shouldn't go out there now,” Amy told him.

“You scurvy ape!” The first mate pulled out his gun.

“Don't shoot. The powder will blow and kill us all,” Rory said.

The other pirate took the keys from the first mate’s belt. “Mulligan, what are you doing?” he said.

Mulligan left.

“No honor among pirates,” Amy said.

The first mate put down his gun and started to rebuild the barricade.

Elise wished she had her sketchbook or something with her. She was bored and wondering what was taking her father and Avery so long.

Toby, who sat next to her, pulled off the medallion around his neck and started to polish it with a piece of cloth.

Suddenly, there was banging on the door.

“Amy! Open the door!” the Doctor yelled.

“Toby, open the door! Toby!” Avery yelled.

Rory and Amy ran to the door to deconstruct the barricade.

The door opened the Doctor grabbed the medallion. He started to breathe on it, quickly clouding the surface. The Doctor ran out of the room with Avery following, leaving Amy, Rory, Elise, and Toby standing there confused.

They soon came back in.

“Now what?” Amy asked.

“Now we wait,” the Doctor told them.

“Just wait?” Rory asked.

“Not my most dynamic plan, I realize.”

“TARDIS?” Amy asked.

“It's been towed.”

“What?”

“Sorry. We might be stuck here for a while.”

“So you're saying that we should all just wait here below?” Rory asked.

“The sea is still calm, like a mirror. If you go out on deck she'll rise up and attack you,” Avery said.

“It's okay. The calm won't last forever,” the Doctor told them, “When the wind picks up we'll all set sail.”

“Until it does, you have to hide down here.”

 *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Avery joined the Doctor and Elise up on deck.

The Doctor was teaching Elise about the stars.

Avery looked up at the night sky.

“It's not one star, it's two. The Dog Star, Sirius. Binary system,” the Doctor said.

“I use it to navigate the ocean,” Avery told him.

“I've traveled far, like you. Space can be very lonely, and the greatest adventure is having someone share it with you.” The Doctor looked down at Elise, who smiled at him. “

If we get out of this I'll take him back to England. He can't stay with me. I'm not the father he needs.”

“Who are you, Henry Avery? Respected naval officer, wife and child at home. How did you end up here, wandering the oceans with a band of rogues?”

“I've set my course now. Nothing I can do to alter it.”

“People stared at it for centuries and never knew. Things can suddenly change, when you're least expecting.” The Doctor patted Avery on the chest before he and Elise went down to the captain’s quarters. The Doctor stopped and looked at the windows he had smashed.

Elise looked at him and then looked at the windows. She got a prickling feeling at the top of her spine.

“Doctor? Elise?” Amy asked, coming up behind them.

“Shush.”

“What can you see?”

“Feels like something's out there, staring straight at me.”

There was a crash of thunder and then lightning.

“Man the sails!” the Doctor yelled, running up on deck.

Elise and Amy ran after him.

Soon, they were being pelted by rain.

“To the rigging, you dogs! Let go the sails. Avast ye! Put the bunt into the slack of the clews!” Avery yelled.

Amy and Rory ran to a set of ropes and started pulling on them.

“I swear he's making half this stuff up!” Amy yelled.

“Well, we're going to need some kind of phrase book!” Rory yelled back.

The Doctor stood at the wheel, directing the ship.

Elise clung to his legs.

“Toby! Find my coat. My compass is inside it, boy. Heave ho, you bilge rats!” Avery yelled.

“Rats was all I could hear!” Rory yelled back.

Toby came towards his father with the coat when a golden crown fell out and rolled across the deck.

The Siren shot out of the crown and flew up into rigging, before coming down to the deck.

“Don't let her take you!” Avery yelled.

Toby walked towards the Siren with his hand out.

“No!” Avery yelled.

Elise let go of the Doctor and ran towards Toby.

“Elise!”

She grabbed onto Toby as he touched the siren. Elise opened her eyes and found she was in a med bay, much like the one on the TARDIS. She’d only been once. She’d been sharpening her charcoals and sliced her hand open.

The Siren was hooking Toby up to machines as she ignored Elise. The Siren disappeared and a second later, appeared with Rory.

“Rory!” Elise yelled, running towards them.

The Siren turned red when she got near him.

“I’m sorry,” Elise told her. Elise stepped back and the Siren calmed down.

The Siren floated off to somewhere else.

A few minutes later, the doors to the med bay opened.

“Daddy!” Elise yelled, running towards him.

“Elise!” The Doctor caught her in his arms. “You’re okay.” He placed several kissed on her hair before he put her down.

“McGrath! He's one of my men,” Avery said.

“He's still breathing,” Amy observed.

“My entire crew is here. Toby!”

Amy spotted Rory. “Rory!”

“Toby!” Avery said, running over to his son.

“The TARDIS!” the Doctor yelled. He ran towards the plastic sheeting and threw it aside. He’d never been happier to see the big little blue box.

“We have to get him out of here,” Avery said.

“Wait,” the Doctor told him. He scanned Toby with his screwdriver. “His fever's gone.” He walked over to Rory and scanned him.

“He looks so well,” Amy said.

“She's keeping him alive. His brain is still active, but all its cellular activity is suspended. It's not a curse, it's a tissue sample,” the Doctor told her, “Why get samples of people you are about to kill?”

“Help me get him up.”

The Doctor started to unhook Rory from the machines.

They started beeping rapidly.

“She's coming,” the Doctor said.

Rory was starting to wiggle around on the metal bed.

The Doctor, Amy, Avery, and Elise hid behind some monitors as the Siren floated in. As she sang her song, Rory went back to sleep.

“Anesthetic”, the Doctor realized.

“What?” Amy asked.

“The music. The song. So she anesthetizes people and puts their body in stasis.”

The Siren floated over to Toby.

Avery stepped out with his gun raised.

“Avery, no!” the Doctor yelled.

Avery fired his gun and the Siren turned red like when Elise had tried to come near Rory.

The Siren advanced on Avery until the Doctor sneezed. The Siren produced a beam of fire between her hands as she came towards the Doctor.

Amy held Elise back from running over to him.

“Fire. That's new. What does fire do? Burn? Yes. Destroy? What else? Sterilize! I sneezed. I've brought germs in.” The Doctor pulled out a handkerchief. He sneezed into it before throwing it on the floor.

The Siren blasted it with fire.

Amy used this distraction and ran to Rory. The Siren started going towards Amy now.

“Amy, stop. Don't interfere. Don't touch him. Anesthetic, tissue sample, screen, sterile working conditions. Ignore all my previous theories!”

“Yeah? Well, we stopped paying attention a while back.”

“She's not a killer at all, she's a doctor!”

Amy stopped messing with the Rory’s tubes and the Siren returned to her normal state.

“This is an automated sick bay,” the Doctor said, “Its teleporting everyone on board. The crew are dead, and so the sick bay has had nothing to do. It's been looking after humanity whilst it's been idle. Look at her. A virtual doctor able to sterilize a whole room.”

“Able to burn your face off,” Amy reminded him.

“She's just an interface, seeped through the join between the planes, broadcast in our world. Protean circuitry means she can change her form, and become a human doctor for humans. Oh, sister, you are good.”

Amy reached for Rory and the Siren turned red again.

“She won't let us take them,” Avery said.

“She's keeping them alive, but she doesn't know how to heal them,” the Doctor explained.

“I'm his wife, for God's sake. Why can't I touch him?” Amy asked.

“Tell her, Amy. Show her your ring.” The Doctor grabbed Amy’s hand. “She may be virtual but she's intelligent. You can't do anything without her consent. Come on. Sophisticated girl like you. That must be somewhere in your core program.”

“Look, he's very ill, okay? I just want to look after him. Why won't you let me near my husband?” A tear fell from Amy’s eye and the Siren cocked her head to side.

The Siren held out her hand and a circle of light appeared around it.

“Consent form. Sign it. Put your hand in the light. Rory's sick. You have to take full responsibility,” the Doctor told her.

Amy did and the Siren disappeared. Amy turned off Rory’s life support and he immediately started gasping for breath.

“He can't breathe. Turn it back on,” the Doctor said.

She did and Rory went back to sleep.

“What do we do? I can't just leave him here.”

“He'll die if you take him out,” Avery said.

“Rory? Rory, wake up,” Amy cooed, stroking his hair.

“Where am I?” Rory asked.

“You're in a hospital. If you leave, you might die,” the Doctor told him.

“But if you don't, you'll have to stay forever,” Amy added.

“You're saying that if I don't get up now…?” Rory asked.

“You can never leave.”

“The Siren will keep you safe,” the Doctor said.

“And if I come with you?” Rory asked.

“Drowning, on the point of death.”

“I'm a nurse.”

“What?” Amy asked.

“I can teach you how to save me.”

“Whoa. Hold on.”

“I was drowning. You just have to resuscitate me.”

“Just?”

“You've seen them do it loads of times in films. CPR. The kiss of life.”

“Rory, this isn't a film, okay? What if I do it wrong?”

“You won't.”

“Okay, what if you don't come back to life? What if…?”

“I trust you.”

Amy looked at the Doctor who was walking over to Avery. “What about him? I mean, why do I have to be the one? Why do I have to save you?”

“Because I know you'll never give up. I know you can do this. Of course, if you muck it up I am going to be really cross. And dead.”

“I'll see you in a minute.”

The Doctor looked at Amy and nodded. He ripped off the restraints and Rory started gasping for breath.

Amy and the Doctor lifted him up and carried him into the TARDIS.

Elise walked over to Toby and Avery. “Goodbye Toby,” she said. She leaned down and placed a kiss on his hair.

“Take care of him,” Avery said.

Elise nodded, knowing he was talking about her father. Elise entered the TARDIS as Rory started coughing up water.

“Amy. Amy, you did it. You did it!” Rory told her. He sat up and they hugged.

The Doctor smiled and walked up the stairs to the platform. “Did you say goodbye?” the Doctor asked Elise.

She nodded.

“Don’t feel like talking?”

Elise shook her head.

The Doctor sighed internally. He missed the days when Elise was loud and outspoken. He hoped she found her voice soon.

[kumeko]

A/N: For the Furuba zine. This is uh, a little old, and I’m not sure how I feel about it anymore, but I love writing these three together. And I want them to all live together post-series, even if only for a little bit.

…

…

…

…

“Arrrrgghhhhh,” Uotani moaned, pillowing her head in her arms. She leaned on the low wooden table, shoving the textbooks aside to make room. Pressing her skin to the cool surface, she asked, “It’s summer, isn’t it? The time when we’re supposed to be at the beach or in a pool or outside?”

 “I think so,” Tohru confirmed eagerly. Uotani could almost hear the cogs in her head churning, a mental checklist run through. Something like: it was sunny, check. It was hot, check. The skies were clear, check. Her head turned every which way, from the window to the door to Uotani to their clothes. Finished, she announced triumphantly with a fist pump, “It’s definitely summer!”

 Hopefully somewhere on that list was a fan. Uotani was practically dying, her shirt drenched with sweat, because a certain, stupid red-head had broken the AC. As fun as it was watching Kyo and Yuki go at it, she wished it didn’t have any consequences for her. She was a bystander! Let her bystand in peace!

 “I am feeling some heat,” Hanajima concurred demurely, her voice soft and low.

At that, Uotani peeked out her interlaced arms. Dressed in a pitch-black dress with a pitch black shawl, Hanajima looked like the embodiment of winter, rather than summer. No, to be frank, she looked like the embodiment of death. As usual. Her delicate fingernails, coated in black nail polish, gently nudged Tohru’s face to one side so she could finish her latest masterpiece. Half of Tohru’s hair was a series mini braids and Uotani wasn’t sure what the end result would be. Dryly, she asked, “Really?”

 “Really,” Hanajima confirmed, not a trace of irony in her voice. Her left hand tugged the shawl slightly, baring her neck.  She fanned it lightly. “Truly, it is summer.”

 “I have no idea how you do that. Or can even say that with a straight face.” Not sure if she should be awed or worried, Uotani shrugged. It wasn’t worth debating over. She had long ago learned there was no point in questioning Hanajima and her ways. The supernatural was the easiest explanation and she stuck with it. Unfolding an arm, she rested her cheek on the other one as she eyed the table. Two textbooks were open, math diagrams taking up the majority of the pages. Several papers were scattered on the table. She gingerly picked up her work sheet, pinching it between two fingers as she stared at it disdainfully. A whole morning of homework and all she’d really got accomplished was a doodle of a bowl of ramen.  God she was hungry. “We need to shred these. Or maybe we can have a dog eat it. There’s one here, right?”

 “N-n-n-no,” Tohru shook her head so fast, it looked like it would spin off her head. “No dogs. Not a single one. No animals either. Nope. Not at all.”

 “Burn them,” Hanajima suggested, her lips curving up into a slight smile.

 “The animals?” Tohru yelped fearfully, her hands covering her cheeks. “Y-you can’t do that!”

 “I thought there were no animals?” Uotani rolled her eyes. It was like this every time they came for a visit. She wasn’t exactly sure what secret the Sohmas’ were keeping, but it seemed to involve owning an illegal menagerie. Or maybe Tohru was; she was soft-hearted like that. Maybe she was hiding stray pets in her closet, feeding them when no one was looking.

 “That’s right!” Tohru slammed her fist into her open hand, looking like she’d just realized something. “There are no animals. So you can’t burn them.”

 “Not the cat, dog, or rat,” Hanajima smiled sweetly, ignoring Tohru’s quiet gasp at each word on the list. “Burn our homework.” Her eyes and voice remained at a deadpan, making it hard to tell how serious she was. “You can start with mine.”

 Knowing laziness, she was probably dead serious. Horrified, Tohru tried to turn to Hanajima, stuttering, “F-f-fire?”

 Hanajima sternly wrapped her hands around her face, turning her back to the front. “I’m not done,” she admonished, selecting the next strands to weave into a braid.

 This did little to assuage Tohru’s concern and she stared at Uotani fearfully. “Uo-chan?”

 “It sounds like a good idea.” Curious, Uotani picked up Hanajima’s sheet. Her name was written beautifully on the top, elegant strokes to make the kanji of her name. The rest of the sheet was left a pristine white, not a single pencil mark on a single question. Not even the easy ones, the ones that Uotani herself managed to scrounge up an answer for. “You didn’t even try.”

 “It makes it easier to burn.” Hanajima smiled serenely. “And I didn’t waste a single pencil.”

 “I’m not sure that’s something to be proud of.” Uotani sighed, glancing at her friend. How she made it into high school was a mystery. Did she study the precise minimal amount required? Use her waves to sense the right answer? Or something else entirely? Still, a fire sounded fun. “Maybe we can have smores later, use this to make a big bonfire.”

“We c-c-can’t burn it!” Flustered, Tohru waved her hands rapidly in front of her. Her eyes darted around the room in a panic, her face flushed red.  “We have to do our homework! The teacher’ll be sad!”

 Breaking into a laugh, Uotani dropped the paper. Sometimes it was too easy to tease Tohru. Cradling her chin her hands, she grinned mischievously at her friend. “Don’t worry, I promise to leave yours alone.”

 “That’s good…” Tohru sighed with relief for a moment before realizing the implication. In a moment of desperation, she tumbled out of her seat, yanking her hair out of Hanajima’s hands. Crawling quickly to Uotani, she grabbed the paper out of her hand. “No, you can’t burn yours either!”

 Uotani covered her mouth as she snorted. Maybe she was a little too mean. “Alright, alright, we won’t do that either.”

 “Promise?” Tohru asked doubtfully, no longer trusting her.

 Hands up, Uotani nodded her defeat. “Promise.”

 Tohru’s eyes narrowed. Scrutinizing her friend for a long minute, she sank to her knees with a smile.  “Phew. That’s good.”

 As Tohru started organizing the papers, gathering them into one large pile, Hanajima got up. “I didn’t make a promise.”

 The papers fell out of Tohru’s hands. Slack-jawed, she stared at her. “What?”

 “But I won’t burn it as well.” Hanajima sat down next to Tohru, folding her legs neatly beneath her. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she added, “Not this time.”

 “Oh. Good.” Worn out, Tohru’s shoulders slumped and she rested her head on Hanajima’s shoulders. She closed her eyes, leaning into Hanajima’s touch as she tenderly patted Tohru’s head. “I’ll help you.”

 “…I think you missed an important line there.” Uotani raised a brow at Tohru’s content face, not sure how she missed the not this time part. Rolling her eyes, she moved on. What homework did they have left to finish? The closest sheet was math and Uotani scowled as she scanned it. “This is so frickin’ useless. I’m never going to need this.”

 “Maybe in university?” Tohru suggested, sitting straight now. Picking up a different homework assignment, she stared determinedly at the sheet. Uotani could make out a few chemistry symbols on the back—H20 was water, right? “I think Yuki said that it would be useful there.”

 “With my brains?” Uotani snorted at the idea, at the improbability of it all. She could just picture it, a yankee girl in a room full of straight-laced honour students. Maybe she’d make it in, but lasting longer than that? “Not gonna happen. Can you just imagine it? I’d get thrown out after a day.”

 “You can’t think that way, Uo-chan!” Tohru refuted, her expression cross. She glared at Uotani, her fingers crinkling the paper. “You’d last more than a day! A week even!”

 Uotani blinked. Processing it, she shook her head wryly. “So I’ll get kicked out either way?” Taking the paper out of Tohru’s grip, she smoothened it out on the table. “All that staring is just going to burn a hole in the thing.”

 “If I look long enough, the answers might appear,” Tohru suggested hopefully, her hands clasped in front of her chest as though she were praying to a science god. Or maybe just a homework god. Uotani would take a math god, if she could.

 “You’ve been spending too much time with the Sohmas’. At least, the idiotic ones.” Uotani flopped on the ground, staring at the ceiling. Man, she couldn’t wait to graduate. At least then there’d be no homework. Lowering her eyes to Tohru, she asked, “You’re going to university?”

 For a moment, Tohru sat straight, her hand pumped up and ready for whatever speech she was about to give. Her mouth dropped open, she took a deep breath, and then she sighed and slumped forward. “I’ll just get a job.”

 Uotani winced. Yep. That sounded about right. “Gotcha. We’re a trio of idiots. Maybe we can find a job together.”

 “Oh, that sounds great!” Tohru perked up, her eyes shining at the thought. “We can work together and have lunch together.” She started counting on her fingers, excited. “And walk home together and—”

 “We can do almost everything together,” Hanajima agreed, grasping Tohru’s hands gently. She squeezed once before dropping them. “Except for the work part. I will go to university.”

 If Uotani had a drink, she would have choked. Actually, even breathing air, she choked. Hanajima. In university. No matter what angle she looked at it, it was impossible. “You’re going to university? What would you even do there?”

 “Get my M.R.S.” Crossing her arms, Hanajima nodded seriously. “While it would be ideal to be Kyo’s mother, I want to check my options.”

 “Kyo’s m-m-mother?” Tohru’s jaw dropped, her eyes as wide as dinner plates.

 “Step-mother,” Hanajima corrected.

 “You, stop that.” Reaching over, Uotani chopped Hanajima on the head. “Save it for when Kyo’s around.” The joke was less funny when he wasn’t there to react. At least, she hoped it was a joke. “You can barely study for a test, how’ll you pass the entrance exams?”

 “That’s easy.” Hanajima picked up a pencil, one with the letters ‘A’, ‘B’, ‘C’, and ‘D’ at the end, and rolled it. “I just have to choose the right multiple choice answers.”

 “There’s more to tests than multiple choice answers!” Uotani growled, facepalming. Still, either way, she wasn’t really too concerned about Hanajima’s future. No matter what she ended up doing, she’d probably be fine. That just left her and Tohru and whatever workplace would take in a delinquent and a saint.

 “Do you think I could do that?” Tohru asked seriously, gripping the pencil tightly.

 Uotani stared at her blankly. There were a few times when she wondered if she was the only one that had any common sense. “That wasn’t even a real thing.”

 There was no point to her advice. Not listening, Tohru rolled the pencil herself. It rolled over the table, falling off to the side, and landing on the plush carpet. The ‘B’ landed up and she stared at it for a long minute before looking at Hanajima helplessly. “I don’t know what that means.”

 “No one does,” Hanajima sympathised, patting her on the back.

 “Guys! Seriously!” Uotani resisted the urge to bang her head on the wall. Judging by the clumsy plaster marks on it, someone else had already beat her to it. And to breaking the doors and windows. Actually, now that she thought about it, there were a lot of patches in the building. Sure, Kyo and Yuki fought a lot, but clearly they were worse at home than she thought. Was that a hole on the roof too? Maybe she shouldn’t let Tohru stay here after all.

 “They’re like wild animals,” Hanajima muttered, reading her mind. Probably reading her mind. Uotani had never really gotten a clear answer on that one.

 Tohru froze at the words. Stiffly, she stammered, “W-w-what do you mean?”

 “The Sohma family.” Hanajima sighed, pointing at the patches. “They fight like wild animals.”

 “Oh.” Tohru blinked once. Twice. Third time, she smiled with relief and patted her chest with an open hand. “Kyo isn’t good at fixing—you should see Yuki’s. I can barely tell there was a hole sometimes.”

 “And the roof doesn’t like when it rains or anything like that?” Uotani asked, incredulous. No matter how skilled the Sohma boys were, they were still teenagers. And how the hell did a pair of teenagers break a roof? Even in her days in the gangs, she’d never heard of such a thing.

 “After the first week, my room was declared a safe zone.” Tohru smiled proudly, pointing up. “They’ve always broken somewhere else.” After a moment’s thought, she stared at her door worriedly. “You don’t think they’re getting leaks?”

 “A safe zone…are you in a war?” Uotani was 80% certain that this was because it was Tohru’s room, more than anything else. 20% was the fact that they were terrified Hanajima would curse them if Tohru even mentioned it once.  “Nah, they’ll be fine. But…you know…since it is worrying, maybe we should just live with you.”

 “Huh?” Tohru stared owlishly at her, not comprehending this sudden twist.

 “If we’re going to do everything together anyways—” Uotani explained, brightening at the thought.

 “I’m going to university,” Hanajima reminded, returning to Tohru’s hair.

 “If we’re going to do everything together anyways,” Uotani continued as though she hadn’t heard a thing. “Why not just live together too?”

 “It’d be economical,” Hanajima pointed out, perhaps her only good idea of the day.

 “Ohhhh!” Stars filled Tohru’s eyes and she clapped her hands together at the thought. “All of us. Living together.”

 “There’s enough space here for all of us.” Uotani counted on her fingers the number of rooms she’d seen. The living room. The four bedrooms. The kitchen. The building definitely had a few rooms that weren’t used, it was fricking big. With a little bit of cleaning, they could make them livable. “We could get the boys to help clean. Kyo has to be useful at something.”

 “He’s really good at moving things!” Tohru chirped, almost vibrating in her seat with excitement.

 “If he complains, I’ll pummel him,” Utonai grinned. “And that perverted author would definitely be happy to have more girls here.”

 “He’s very nice!” Tohru defended, though she didn’t argue about the ‘perverted’ part. “I’m sure he’ll let you stay.”

 “Right. If you say so.” Uotani was pretty sure Tohru didn’t have a firm grasp on the reality of her housemates. She probably saw their fighting as nothing more than a petty squabble either. “Anyways, it’d be nice. Remember that time I stayed with you and Kyoko for a week? It’d be like that times a hundred.”

 “Oh that was great!” Clapping her hands together, Tohru nodded eagerly. “You and Mom made…” Tohru’s eyes darkened, and she lowered her lids. Her hands clutched her skirt tightly. Her voice softened. “Do you think she’d be happy?”

 “Happy?” Uotani asked, straining to hear her friend. She leaned closer. Already Hanajima was hugging her from behind, her arms loosely folded around Tohru’s neck as she rested her head on Tohru’s shoulder.

 “That I’m not going to university?” Tohru bit her lip. Her fingers started to dig to dig into her thighs. “That I’m getting a job like her.”

 “Tohru…” Not wasting a minute, Uotani grabbed Tohru’s hands and squeezed them tight. Leaning forward, she pressed her forehead against Tohru’s. “She’s definitely happy. Like, the most fricking happy mom there is. You’re graduating high school! She didn’t even get to do that.”

 “I know she’s smiling at you,” Hanajima comforted her. There was something reassuring about her saying it, as though she was looking at her ghost right now and translating from the other side. “She’s proud.”

 “Really?” Tohru looked up now, staring at Uotani. “Do you really think so?”

 “I know so.” Uotani chuckled, remembering the crazy, ex-gang-member-turned-doting-mother. There was not a single parent who loved their child like Kyoko loved Tohru. Hell, there was not a person alive who loved anyone as much as Kyoko loved Tohru. “As long as you’re happy, she’d be happy.”

 “I am. I am really, really happy.” Tohru turned her hands over, clasping Uotani back.

 “And I’m happy and even Hanajima is happy, if not somehow surviving a heat stroke.” Uotani grinned, before slowly untangling herself from Tohru. Reaching back to the table, she grabbed the math sheet once more. “Though we ain’t graduating without actually finishing this.”

 “Right…” Tohru’s smiled dropped as she stared at the paper. “I don’t know how to do that.”

 Releasing Tohru after a last squeeze, Hanajima flopped backwards onto the ground. She stared at the ceiling blankly.  “We could just take an extra year to graduate. Your mom would understand.”

 “No, we…” Tohru stared at the paper once more, biting her lip. Reluctantly, she looked away and mumbled, “It still counts, right? A delayed graduation is still graduating.”

 “Guys, no. We’re not letting that orange-haired bastard graduate before us,” Uotani vehemently bit out, already picturing Kyo’s smirk. Reaching down, she yanked Hanajima back up into a sitting position. “We just need a little help. And what better help than the resident prince?”

 “Yuki!” Tohru brightened immediately and sprang to her feet. “He’s downstairs.”

 “Good.” Uotani paused, realizing that they hadn’t heard any earthquakes, mass destruction, or even plain old arguing for the past hour. Mount Kyo-Yuki was set to explode. They’d get nothing done if that happened. “Don’t invite Kyo.”

 “Huh?” Already skipping to the door, Tohru immediately halted. Her head cocked one way and then the other before she finally turned around and looked at Uotani in confusion. “Why?”

 “Yuki. Kyo. In a room,” Uotani explained slowly, enunciating each word clearly. When it was clear Tohru didn’t get it, she spelled it out. “They’ll fight and we’ll fail a year.” Not to mention. Tohru’s room would probably get destroyed. Cursed by Hanajima or not, Tohru’s room or not, there was no way the pair would be able to handle tutoring each other for a few hours. Not with Kyo’s pride—he’d take offense at the smallest thing.

 “Kyo could fail too!” Apparently the only word Tohru heard was failure and she ran out of the room in a panic. “Shigure! Kyo! Yuki!”

 “Wait that wasn’t—” It was too late, Uotani could hear Tohru’s shouts as she raced downstairs. Well. There went any hope of a peaceful study session. Uotani glanced at the table once more, at their pile of papers. To be honest, they weren’t getting anything done today anyways. They’d been studying in this room for at least two hours and the only thing they had to show for it was Tohru’s new hairstyle.

 “He’ll fail with us,” Hanajima consoled, with such certainty it felt more like a prophecy.

 “I don’t know if I should be happy about that or not.” Uotani winced as she heard an angry stomping up the stairs. Turning to Hanajima, she raised a brow. “It’s not too late to burn them all, is it?”