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mellicose · 8 years

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Doctor After Dark #4 - The Queen’s Consort

Fandom: David Tennant, Doctor Who

Pairing: Tenth Doctor x OC (m/f)

Word Count: 8000

Warnings: Minor Timelord Sex-related injury, mention of dubcon (not with the Doctor, though)

Read on Ao3 | Read Doctor After Dark #3 - Many Happy Returns

Summary: Based on this lovely anon request -What night can be more charming to consummate a relationship than on St Valentines? That's what Queen Elizabeth thinks, and Doctor, who rarely backs down from a challenge, is sport for it. But before he does the nasty with royalty, Her Majesty's personal Lady's Maid pull him aside, and 'educates' him in what her lady likes.

This story started out straightforward smutty one-shot, then turned into something that seamlessly ties into my Doctor After Dark series. My DW AU world is growing, slow but sure. Attention TenxRose shippers: Rose is mentioned quite favorably, albeit briefly. I hope it leaves your heads spinning in a good way.

He heard their ridiculous chainmail armor click clacking before they knocked on the door.

“Doctor!”

He winked at himself in the looking glass and gave the red rose in his lapel a final fluff.

He was on his way to consummate his union with a queen. The queen, to be honest. And she’s a ginger. He bounced to the door and threw it open.

“Please, come in!”

There were four men, with the familiar colors of her personal guard. They were inexpressive as statues.

“Come with us. The Queen summons you.”

“With pleasure,” he said, chuckling, despite himself. They did not chuckle with him.

They walked in the lantern lit stone hallways of her summer castle, with the men boxing him in. They turned a corner, and the two men behind him stopped and watched as the leader stopped in front of a large tapestry of a white hart.

“How extraordinary,” the Doctor said, grasping his hands behind his back. The guard lifted the tapestry and pressed a stone. It sunk soundlessly into the wall, then the wall slid away to reveal a secret passageway. The Doctor tried to contain his glee.

Royal rendezvous! Secret passages!

What fun. He could use it after all that has been happening.

He ducked inside without a word, matching the guard’s quick pace. He heard the snippets of faraway conversations that seemed to be carried into the secret chambers in the bars of light cutting into the darkness from the viewing holes cleverly hidden in the stone. He was tempted to stop and look, but he had more pressing matters to attend to.

“Here.”The guard stopped in front of a seemingly indistinguishable stretch of hallway. There were no secret observation holes there. “I will wait.”

“Then you’ll be waiting a while,” he said as the guard pressed the secret stone to make the wall slide open.

The large, tapestry-hung chamber was fragrant with beeswax candles and incense - it smelled Moorish.

It was the scent flowers gave off in moonlight when they had no one and nothing to impress but each other. It was heady, lovely. And fit for a queen. He spied polished brass, crimson glass and silver. There was a large feather bed in the corner with samite curtains threaded with the finest gold. Although he did not sleep often, its palest mint silk sheets looked like a haven to a worlds weary traveler like himself.

“Beautiful,” he said, walking over to graze the nearly transparent curtain with reverent fingers. He heard something behind him.

He straightened and tugged on his suit coat. “What d’ye say, Lizzie-”

The woman standing on winter wolf pelt in front of the fire was NOT Elizabeth. Not even close. Her dark, hip length hair was threaded with lilac-colored and gold ribbons, and her skin was smooth and pearly. She wore a pale purple robe that pooled around her feet, but it was open to the thigh. Her neck was wrapped in a quadruple string of pearls, which were far more precious than gems.

Her naked toes curled in the soft white fur.

He could smell her now, even through the pelt stone wax incense and fire. She was in was in the Queen’s bedchamber, but she was not English. He took a deep breath. She smelled of red wine, leather and the penitent tears of the nuns who prayed for the egregious sins she committed with and for the Queen.

“Doctor. You don’t look surprised.” Her accent was enticing, her r’s wood-hard.

He took off his beat up sneakers off, then pulled off his brown socks, bouncing on each foot and throwing them over his shoulder. He wanted to feel the pelt on his feet as well.

“I am surprised. But Her Majesty will have to excuse the fact that I am not displeased by it.”

She looked over a table laid out with refreshments by the fire. She walked with a proudness that did not suggest servitude. He took in her scent again.

Almonds, ambergris, iron, precious wood and a level of oxytocin that would suggest vigorous and frequent sexual congress. Vellum and oak gall.

She was educated. She was also well-kept, and had been for a long while. Her hands made spidery shadows against the wall as she poured him wine.

“I am certain you are wondering why Her Majesty is not here…” she handed him the red goblet. The wine looked rich as blood in it. Her fingers grazed his. His body stiffened as he saw into her mind for a split second.

She was intensely curious. Very charmed. And voracious.

She smiled up at him, her dark eyes seeming to assimilate the flames by which she stood instead of reflecting them.

“She has told me much about you, but she did not tell me you were so precioso,” she said. “And perhaps dangerous.”

“I’m harmless as a kitten,” he said, unbuttoning his coat and loosening his tie.

She pulled it hard enough to made him bend near her face. “And what strange vestments you have. It is not gentle, but Her Majesty assures me that you are a prince of your people.”

He gently extricated himself from her grasp. Her long, almond shaped nails pressed into his palm.

“Are you a prince, Doctor?” she asked. “Truly?”

“Perhaps she gives me more credit than I am due. I consider myself more a general, perhaps, but not a prince.”

“Lo sabia! I knew it. But she insists. She is very taken with you. We have sat in chamber with Brother Dee and been witness to wonders which would make most men faint dead away, yet she says that you are more amazing than all of them put together.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know about all that, but…” he took his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket and winked. “Wanna see?”

She snatched it out of his hand so easily it scared him a little.

“What is this wondrous device?” she said, holding it instinctively right in her hand. She pointed it at him.

“Whoa! this is my tool.” He took it back and ran his thumb down the sensor until it hummed at precisely the right frequency. “And only mine to touch until I give you explicit permission to do so.” He wiggled an eyebrow at her.

She giggled and jumped up and down. “Show me how to make it hum like that!”

“Don’t you want to see what it does?” He flipped it expertly in his hand.

“Pues claro! Show me!”

He pointed at a bare expanse of wall. Its blue tip glowed, and another secret passageway opened. This one was less bare - its floor was lined with fur.

“Yours, I presume?”

“Indeed!”

She got close and studied the foreign wand in his hand. “What other sorcery does it perform?”

He smiled at her and cupped her chin. “It’s not sorcery. It’s science.”

“Como no,” she said softly. “Of course it’s science. I never knew I would one day entertain a man whose scientific wand would far exceed the magic of Brother Dee.”

Sweat beaded her brow. The room was sweltering because of the fire and all the candles. He spied a casement window and pointed the sonic screwdriver at it. It burst open with a creak. A merciful breeze troubled the candle flames.

“Madre de Dios, que rico!” she said. “How delicious!” She shed the heavy silk robe. Now she wore nothing except the pearls and the gold bangles around her wrists. Her skin was dusted with an opalescent powder that made his mouth water. The tiniest of gold hoops ringed her nipples, making them permanently hard. There was a fine gold chain that hung from her neck, between her breasts, split into four and went around her waist and draped around her hips. One chain went between her legs, and something ringed her clit as well, making it stick out of her cleanly waxed pussy lips.

He’d never seen anything so deliciously obscene. Oh, human women. They washed obsessively and covered themselves in perfume, but in the end, when they were aching and needy, they were reduced to musk and pheromones. How he wished he could bottle that. He would take it into his TARDIS and enjoy it for centuries after she had faded to memories and dust.

He twitched in his pants.

Her hip bones vibrated. She moaned.

“Was that you, Doctor?” She touched the wings of her hips. He closed his eyes and focused on her, grasping at her consciousness with his own. The vibrations moved from her hips up her spine and exploded in the base of her skull. She cried out and fell, but he caught her before she hit the floor.

It felt good to have a woman’s weight in his arms, already humming low for him, but he truly was curious. He put her gently down on the bed.

“Where is the Queen?” he said, caressing a sweaty tendril of hair from her temple. She still panted with the intensity of the orgasm.

She slowly reached out to him and smiled.

“I wondered why Her Majesty would want me to have you first when she clearly favors you,” she said. Her hand went up his thigh. “Now I see. You are exquisite, but you need a lesson in manners. Help me up.”

He pulled her to sitting. There was a wet spot on the silk underneath her ass.

“Manners? I have traveled the the limit of the stars and been to other universes. What of manners? I do well enough,” he said. Her scent was beginning to arouse him in earnest.

She straddled him and ran her fingers through his spiky hair. “For a savage,” she said. “But that’s why I’m here. To teach you.”

“Teach me what?” He was distracted by the golden chains around her supple waist.

“How to make love to a Queen.” She started to unbutton his shirt. He wore no undershirt, and his skin was deliciously silky underneath. She kissed his clavicle, then moved down until she reached his nipple and licked.

“And you know how?” His hand went in her hair. It released the scent of bergamot and myrrh.

“Intimately,” she said, flicking her tongue, then biting lightly.

She got out of bed and walked to the refreshment table for the wine the Doctor had not touched. He stared at her as she bit into a ripe fig. Juice ran down her chin, and she licked the tender rosy flesh that she had bitten, staring into his eyes.

“It is true they call her the Virgin Queen, but you didn’t think she was actually a virgin, did you?” She giggled and ripped a piece of bread off the loaf and ate it. She peeled an orange. Its scent filled the chamber, cutting the musk of the wetness that dried on her thighs.

She stuffed a couple of orange sections into her mouth and shrugged. “Orgasms make me hungry.” She walked to him and gave him half. “Have some. The seeds are from my father’s orchards.”

He dutifully put it in his mouth, then smiled at its tartness. It tasted like distilled sunshine.

“Delicious, no?” she said as she finished her half.

“Outstanding! What is it?”

“An orange, like the color. I don’t know which came first, though. What color did they call a sunset before oranges?” she said, straddling him again.

“Then I’m not surprised I love it. I can now eat my favorite color,” he said. He discreetly spit out a pip and put it in his pants pocket. He would grow this magic plant in his TARDIS hothouse.

She put her fruit-sticky lips against his ear. “The Queen. She’s orange. Especially where it counts,” she said. Her hand went between his legs and caressed him. He was hard immediately.

“So she doesn’t do what you do…” he touched her smooth pussy lips, still slick from his mental manipulation.

“No, Doctor. She prefers as little enhancement as possible in her private toilette,” she said, guiding his fingers to her opening. “I have a Moorish handmaiden that I brought with me from home who has taught me a different way. The Queen is kind enough to let me do as I wish, just as long as am fully amenable to pleasing her whenever she desires.”

“And how long have you been serving the Queen?” he asked. His fingers slid easily into her. She lay back and opened her legs. She looked like a Gandrewan lily wrapped around his questing fingers.

He had grown and consumed many of them as a young man back on Gallifrey, before joining was a possibility and his ability to subsume his sexuality had become second nature to him. Their large petals formed an elastic trumpet that wrapped tightly around anything that was bold enough to try to steal its nectar. It sucked rhythmically, releasing a perfumed slime meant to drown the intruder.

Such as an insect. A bird. A finger. His cock.

She pinched his nipple between her toes. “Where are you?”

“You reminded me of something,” he said.

She wrapped her legs around his neck and brought him near her.

“You can’t get distracted with the Queen,” she said. “She won’t like that.”

“I assure you, my thoughts were very much about you,” he said, spreading her open as he withdrew his fingers. Her trembling pink made his cock hum.

“I’m here on behalf of the Queen,” she said, rolling away from him and off the bed. “So don’t get used to my charms. They are primarily for her,” she said. She opened an enameled chest by the bed. “Please take off all your clothes.”

He kicked off his pants and threw his shirt over the edge of the bed. He lay back on the silk and stared up. There were pearled disks hung over the bed that whispered and clicked in the breeze.

He looked over at her, and she had a feather duster in her hand. She caressed the glossy feathers pensively as she looked in the cabinet.

“You planning on cleaning something?” he said.

“No, silly man.” She grabbed some restraints, then picked out two colored glass bottles and closed the cabinet.

He took her into his lap with scary ease and kissed her hard. He pulled at the chains on her body and she groaned as they tugged on her nipples and clit. She sucked on his fat lower lip, then slid her tongue in his mouth. The wondrous man not only smelled of honey, he also tasted of it - the rich, amber orange flower kind that she glutted on as a child.

Her Majesty truly had the best of everything!

His cock pressed insistently on her lower belly. She wanted him inside her, but she had work to do.

“Put your arms out.” She buckled the leather restraints on his wrists, then moved down to buckle his ankles. She gave them a pull then bounced off the bed and went to the cabinet. Again, she grabbed the feather duster. She walked to the foot of the bed.

“Seriously, if you’d rather clean than-” he let out a stream of giggles as she tickled his feet with the wand. She moved up his body, shaking the colorful feathers on his skin. She moved up to his thighs. He fought against the restraints, his face reddening with laughter.

“Oh my- what is this even - oh please -”

The feathers danced on his belly. He bucked and squealed, his toes curling. She threw the duster aside and straddled him. She tickled his side, wriggling her fingers on his silky skin. She wanted to kiss him, but she turned around and tickled his feet again, holding on to his bucking legs as he let go another gale of giggles.

“You’re gonna - oh my - you’re gonna make me burst-”

She bit into his smooth instep then stopped. He panted happily above her.

“That was a bit of good fun.”

“The tickling? Sure,” she said. She turned and kissed his belly right below his belly button.

“It’s called tickling? I like it,” he said. “It made me feel giddy, and receptive.” She grabbed a bottle made of deep green glass and uncorked it, releasing a beautifully spicy scent. “What is that?”

“Oil of cinnamon,” she said, dripping it down his belly. It beaded on the hair of his happy trail. She massaged it into his skin slowly, deliberately, artfully. Her hands got closer and closer to his cock, but just as he thought she would touch him, she would rub just above the root of it, or just beneath, gently oiling his balls until they tightened in her grip.

The wooden posts of the bed creaked. Warmth started to spread wherever she touched.

“It’s getting tingly.” His hands were fists in the restraints.

“It’s the spice. There’s just enough to tingle, but not burn,” she said as her oiled fingers pressed circles into his perineum.

“You’ll find I’m quite fireproof. It’s you humans that are sensitive to particularly intense bursts of passion,” he said. She spread his legs and lay on his thigh as her hand moved between his legs. Her intense, dark gaze felt like additional fingers on his flesh. “You never told me your name. What is it?”

She finally wrapped her fist around the root of his cock. He groaned.

“Does it really matter? I doubt your name is just Doctor. What is your name, then?”

“It’s different for me-” he stopped talking as she pressed an oiled fingertip into his ass. Her other hand pulsed around him, but it did not stroke yet. Her breasts were a delicious pressure against his inner thighs.

“How so?” She opened the other bottle, releasing the faintest scent of almonds. She poured it on the tip of his cock and watched it as it dripped down the shaft and disappeared into his pubic hair and down, where she worked her finger deeper and deeper. “You’re getting hot, Doctor.”

“My name, on my planet -” He bit his lip as she ran two fingers up his cock to the tip, an expert firm pressure along his urethra until precum beaded and dripped on his length. His toes curled as she licked the sweet cinnamon oil off his perineum.

“Your planet. There is a part of me that wants to believe you’re just a handsome charlatan with mentalist abilities.” Her breath was warm, her voice a maddening vibration on his flesh. Her tongue moved up and she finally took him into her mouth, groaning at his sweetness.

She was deliberate, running her lips on his oiled shaft with her tongue a velvet heat between them. She would barely suckle the head, make him dig his heels into the bed then begin her slow rubbing again, barely caressing up his shaft with her mouth.

He stared. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed, and her mouth a hedonistic red, swollen and glossy with oil. Her breasts were oiled too, and her firm flesh pressed against him, sliding, her nipples so hard he could feel them nudging at his inner thighs.

“How is this-” he grunted as she swirled her tongue on the slick tip of his cock, smiling at his sweet heat. “How is this teaching me to please the Queen?”

Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at him as she took him as deep in her mouth as she could. Her fingers dimpled the flesh of his belly as her head bobbed with her eagerness. He could smell her sharp increase in arousal and it triggered his own. The silk underneath him hissed and popped.

“If you don’t stop I’ll burn you!” he groaned. She stopped, staring at his body with heartbreaking longing.

“Burn? How?”

He let his hearts slow. “I can have human sex - penetrative sex, but I have to concentrate, keep myself together, or I will superheat and burst into flame.”

Her eyes widened. “Virgen Santisima! Why didn’t you mention it? If you burned the Queen....” Her hand went to her mouth to stifle a cry. “She will be so angry at you. You should’ve told her before. She’ll have you killed - she doesn’t countenance being made fun of.”

He sighed. “I tried to make it clear that although I’m up for a good flirt, more that flirting can be dangerous…”

“But she wasn’t having it, was she?”

“No. Not really.”

“I understand completely. She is insistent,” she said. She touched him gently, her fingers barely grazing up his tensed thighs, then up his belly to his chest.

“You look so like a man,” she said, kissing his neck, then his lips. He kissed her back, sliding his tongue in her mouth. She tensed, pressing her body against his, but stopped. “I apologize, Doctor.”

He wished he could touch her. “I asked you something before. What you were doing with your mouth and your hands. How does that teach me how to make love to Her Majesty?”

Her eyes flitted nervously, then she put her mouth to his ear. “You are a mentalist, no?”

“I’m not a magician, but yes, I can read minds. It’s a vibration I can pick up from the air, like music.”

She moved over him to unbuckle his restraints. Her breasts jiggled in front of his face. Her consciousness was as open to him as her legs and the temptation was too great. He barely caressed her under her beautiful breasts, in her ribcage and down to her belly button. She cried out and curled into herself on top of him. Hot wetness spread on the tops of his thighs.

“Carajo!” She slapped his chest. Sweat beaded over her upper lip. “You can’t do that so hard. It’s too intense.”

He licked the soft globe of her breast. “But I barely touched you. I can go much, much, deeper.” He focused between her legs, right underneath her pubic bone where she was already swollen and tender. He bit his lip and flexed.

She exhaled forcefully and fell back, clutching at the sheets. Her legs were open, and her thigh muscles twitched around nothing. He knew he could easily break the restraints, but he didn’t want to frighten her.

“I would comfort you, but you’ve tied me up,” he said, eyeing her dripping sex. Her breathing slowed, but she remained silent. “If you come here to me, I promise I’ll behave and be the best student you’ve ever had.”

“You bastard.” It was a whisper.

“Come. Here.” The restraints creaked on the bedposts.

“No man. Or woman. They couldn’t possibly-”

“Now!” It was a roar that bounced off the stone walls.

“Doctor,” she said softly.

“I’m sorry. Like I said, my arousal is...unpredictable. Please, untie me and let me show you I can be gentle.”

She unbuckled his wrists, and he stretched and extended his arms. She crawled into his lap. She trembled, but she was not afraid.

“What if I don’t want you to be gentle? Perhaps if you burn me, then maybe you can leave this place. We can both escape.”

She took his hands and pressed them on her face. He felt the tears that she was too world weary to cry. “Look, Doctor, if you can. Please.” He lay her back and spread her legs. She whimpered, but he caressed down her body.

“I don’t have to touch you just there to read you, darling,” he said, settling between her legs. “Here is even better.” He took a deep breath and centered himself, putting away all the loose bits of his consciousness that might cause him to combust uncontrollably. He was taking a risk nonetheless, but he didn’t want to resist.

He spread her thighs wide and licked her. Her musk was like a spike to his brain and he grunted as images began to rush past his closed eyelids.

A chubby, happy girl, running through orange orchards with a little dog. A boy, running with her, pale, slim and smiling. A cottage at the edge of the orchard, small but cozy.

The boy again, older, and smiling at her. Her fingers, entwined in his. A whisper, honey sweet and warm against the shell of her ear.

His belly muscles quivered. His tongue moved in quick circles up and down her slit. He couldn’t lick her clit properly because of the ridiculous ring around it. He bit it gently. She sighed. He caught the edge of the ring in his teeth and used his tongue to work her swollen flesh out of it.

Her hand went in his hair. “Gentle, Doctor.”

“Always,” he said, and spit it aside and sucked her clit hungrily.

The boy’s mouth over hers, tasting of smoke and sharp green. Her maid telling her father in her jealousy, since she too loved the gardener’s boy.

Anger, shame, frustration. Her father’s red screaming face, her mother refusing to see her.

A boat. Being sick and miserable and alone on rough seas. Rain and endless gray and green, so different from the supersaturated colors of her native land.

The Queen, red and white, big as life. Petting, caressing, kind. Hungry. Demanding. Frightening-

He gasped into her. She shivered with sensation. He moved up her body and pressed his wet lips to her ear.

“Your name is Juana Magdalena. Magda.”

She nodded.

“The boy. Where is he? Think it and I will see.”

A letter, tear-stained and crumpled in her manicured hand. Muerto del flujo. Dead from the flux, shortly after her forced departure.

A tear rolled down her temple and into his mouth.

“Did the Queen take you forcefully?”

A woman, much like she is now, standing before her, pinching at her plump limbs and shaking her head. She would have to diet. Training, in pleasures she didn’t know existed, between women. The images wobbled and faded to a linear thought.

I can feel where you are in my head, Doctor. And she is the Queen. She has a right to whatever she wants. My acquiescence is secondary to her desires, no?

The question was pointed.

He frowned.

Never.

He pressed his lips to her temple, and saw himself the way she saw him. He glowed with a nacreous orange halo. His limbs vibrated with desire. Slow heat emanated from his center and out, as well as a deep hunger. She ached to be filled by him.

You asked whether what I did was about pleasing the Queen. I will never taste a man unless she wills it for her pleasure. The Queen will use me until I cease to amuse her then I will be cast aside. I cannot go back to Spain and marry, because I am not intact. I will spend the rest of my days in a nunnery, a toy to bored, venal nuns.

She wrapped her arms around him. “Although this was her idea, I choose you, Doctor, if you’ll have me. You are extraordinary.”

“Sweet Magda,” he said into her mouth, and kissed her. She tried to get on top of him, but he gently pushed her on her back. “Like I said before, I will burn you if I we make love.”

She nodded, but her eyes filled with frustrated tears.

He caressed her face. “I have a way around it, though. Would you like to try it with me?”

“Is it like that orgasm thing?” she giggled.

“A little, but far more nuanced, and nice for both of us.”

“Then yes.”

He lay beside her. “Do you trust me?”

“You’ve been in my head, Doctor. What do you think?”

“Then close your eyes, and think of beautiful things,” he said. He slid one hand underneath the nape of her neck, and put the other, fingers spread, on her lower belly. He pressed his fingertips into the base of her skull to access her cerebellum.

He breathed deeply. He hadn’t done this since...

He thought of the now crumpled flower in his lapel and tried to concentrate.

He could feel her thoughts like subtle vibrations against the pad of his fingers. He concentrated. His breath hitched.

He was in a house with many windows. The sun was bright, and the hallway smelled of flowers.

Her voice called to him in her own language. There was an innocence and joy which was not there when she spoke.

I’m here, Doctor. Outside…

He burst through the door and into an orchard. He heard feet running through the grass, saw a flash of dark hair as she ran into thicker woods.

Almost there, amor…

The scent and warmth of her private paradise uplifted him, and he found himself running for the sheer joy of feeling the breeze on his skin. He ran into a copse of elm trees whose limbs reached out to each other and nearly blocked out the sun. Surprisingly, it was comforting, not cold. He heard running water.

Just past the sheltering trees…

She stood on a flat, mossy stone by a stream. The wet stones gleamed like cat’s eye in the dappled light sifting through the leaves. She reached out for him.

Come.

You’re beautiful, he thought, since what he was seeing was an extension of her.

She got up on tiptoes and looked at the sun-gilded stones, then into his eyes.

So are you.

He kissed her again, this time without fear of hurting her. Her touch her was more shy, since she didn’t have to pretend. He laid her down on the mossy stone and kissed her skin every place the sun dappled it. Her forehead, her chin, just beneath the shelf of her ribs and down. Her musk mixed beautiful with the mordant green scent of the moss, but he was eager and he had already tasted her. He got on his back and pulled her on top of him. The length of his cock settled between her lips and she started to grind on him. Her cheeks were flushed with the sensation.

There was a sudden burst of sunlight that made them both squint. He was ready.

Her softness was maddening. Sweat beaded on her breasts and belly. She put her hands on his thighs to steady herself and continued to grind on him, but he knew she was waiting on him to enter her.

She would not do it herself. She wanted him to take her.

He caressed the sweat from her flesh and sucked her nipple in his mouth. He vibrated against her, making her cry out.

Don’t be afraid. I promise it won’t hurt.

She ran her fingers through his hair, then pulled lightly as he licked up her neck to kiss her lips.

That’s not why I’m shaking, Doctor.

Her thoughts sifted through their shared breath.

Now.

He grabbed her hips and shifted position, burying himself in her.

She shimmered in the intense burst of light that made their skin tingle with its heat. They were sharing perception now, completely. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight as he thrusted deep into her. Her tongue swirled around his and images began to coalesce in his brain.

Skin on skin. Honey on flesh, a tight belly. Hers. An eager tongue and fingers caressing up her thigh. Spreading. Touching. Heat that almost hurt.

He knew she was thinking of her first love. She couldn’t help it. He felt an intense longing, and she sensed it.

Pink and yellow. Everywhere. A laugh, and a sweet but unfamiliar voice. Salt and saliva and heart-breaking tenderness. So much it made her want to weep. Then, flowers. Their scent and taste filled all her senses until her sweat smelled of it.

“Rose…” she said out loud, in the Queen’s bedchamber.

She kissed him and tasted the honey sweetness she had savored and lost. He tasted the faraway flavor of her, of what he had forced himself to give up for the sake of his sanity.

He shut his eyes tight and pulled her close. His eagerness was enough to make her breathless. Their vibrating made the air around them glow.

Madga’s thoughts dissolved into sadness.

They are gone. We are here.

She laced her fingers in his and kissed him, riding him slowly.

I don’t want to hurt. Be here, with me.

Her innocence and vulnerability brought him back to her. She was sweet too. She pressed her forehead to his and closed her eyes.

Let’s try again.

He gently pushed her into the moss and wrapped her legs around his hips. His sex hummed inside her. He didn’t need to thrust. Her breath was already short. She touched his chest, running her fingers through the silky hair, then cupped the back of his neck, looking into his eyes.

You’re old, Doctor. Older than your beautiful face shows.

He adjusted the angle of her hips. Now, his hardness vibrated directly where she was most sensitive. She arched, hard.

And experienced.

He watched her, concentrating on her bio rhythms. Her heartbeat was at 101 bpm and increasing. Oxytocin levels optimal. Endorphin levels rising. He felt his own arousal matching hers. Making love to human women was a science to him. And he aimed to be the best.

He moved inside her, nudging her g-spot with every thrust. Her blood roared in her veins. Her thighs quivered against his hips. She bit, then sucked on her own swollen lip. Her nipples got perceptively harder. Sweat appeared on her brow.

Her chemicals were enticing. He bent to taste her sweat and she pulled him against her.

She squeezed his ass. Love is not scientific. Fuck me.

I thought the temptress was gone.

She licked the shell of his ear. Not completely. After all, she is a part of me now.

He smiled into her skin.

“Magdalena, darling. What the devil is going on here?!” The Queen’s high, warbling voice was shrill with horror.

He jumped up from beside her. The chamber was filled with smoke - that’s what had caused the guard to alert Her Majesty. Magda lay on the bed, inert despite the burning sheets.

The queen poured a jug of water on the crackling silk and jumped on the bed and shook Madga, gently slapping her. The scent of burnt hair make her cough.

“Sweeting, wake up! Darling!” She shook her, her pale cheeks blotchy red with the effort. She wore only a dressing gown. No shoes, no makeup, no wig. Her short, fine red hair lay against her skull like a red cap.

She gasped and opened her eyes slowly. “Doctor? What’s happening?”

The Queen pulled at the bits of burnt hair at the base of her neck in dismay. “That monster-” she touched the edges of the hand-shaped burn puffing up on Madga’s belly. “-he’s ruined you.”

She leveled her venomous gaze at him and he froze as he pulled his pants back on.

“Is this what you planned to do to me? Disfigure me, murder me in my bed?”

Madga rolled out of bed behind her and picked up her robe, giving him the most impotent, hopeless look he had ever seen.

Take me away from here. Please, she mouthed. Her eyes were full of tears.

“Guards!” The Queen turned to caress Madga. “Look at your beautiful hair. He’s burned it. My sweet Spanish poppet,” she said, taking Madga into her arms and petting her like a dog.

He slowly grabbed his coat while the Queen was distracted and located his sonic screwdriver. Madga’s eyes begged over Her Majesty’s shoulder.

The menacing sound of armor got closer.

He looked out the window into the night, then back at her.

Please. Her lip quivered.

Just as the guards rounded the last corner, he extended his hand and beckoned. She ripped away from the Queen’s arms and into his. He squeezed her hand and screamed one word into her face.

“Run!”

They barreled toward the casement window. A spear whistled past his shoulder. The bedchamber was at least 80 feet above the stone courtyard below. The Queen screamed bloody murder behind them.

“Doctarrgghh!-”

He dove gracefully out of the window head-first, pulling her behind him. She had no air to scream. She heard him laugh as they fell toward the stone.

I’m going to die. But what a way to go-

A blue thing blurred past from the darkness and scooped them from the air just before they hit the ground. She finally screamed, then all faded to black.

She sniffed the strange air.

I must be dreaming. It can’t be real.

She extended her arm...and fell off the jumpseat onto the grating.

The Doctor ran to where she lay groaning. “Are you okay? Air’s a bit rough tonight,” he said, caressing her face.

“It’s not a dream,” she said out loud.

“Not at all,” he said, helping her up. She let her eyes adjust to the light. There were weird tablets with moving images that flashed quicker than she could discern. They were in a large room, where treelimb-like columns twisted inward to encase them. A glowing green column moved rhythmically up and down in the center of it all.

She walked to the console and stared at the glowing green.

“Where am I?”

He buttoned his coat crookedly over his naked torso. “The better question is when are you. Right now, we’re flying past the 31rst Century.”

She moaned softly and sat against the console. Her robe fell open, exposing her hand-shaped burn. He hissed sympathetically.

“Does it hurt?” He brushed his fingers right above it. “I’m so sorry. I got too deep, and I’m out of practice. It’s been a while.”

“Since Rose?” she said, pulling his hand up to kiss his palm.

He nodded.

“I have some bandages that will kill the pain immediately,” he went underneath the console and came back with a small box. She laid back on the jump seat as he placed them. “These have turned out to be quite handy in the last 50 years.”

He wasn’t joking - the pain immediately and completely went away just as soon as he pressed them on her skin.

She sighed, then winced when she turned to look at him. She also had tiny pinpoint burns on the nape of her neck, where his other hand had been.

“Where are you taking me, Doctor?”

“Somewhere brilliant, where you’ll be completely safe. I promise.” He pressed his now cool fingertips on her temples. His brown eyes were gentle. “Now sleep.”

She closed her eyes.

The silence woke her. The ship was perfectly still.

“It’s not quite a ship. It’s a TARDIS. Much more amazing,” he said from behind her. They were not in the console room, but another room, much smaller. And it was circular. The walls flashed with soothing pinpoints of light against the deepest blue. A comet slowly shed its trail across the ceiling.

“It’s beautiful,” she said. The bed on which they lay was a smaller circle in the middle of the room, but big enough to fit four people. “What is this place?”

“My bedroom. Haven’t been in much lately, but you looked exhausted so I brought you here.” He pulled her close and nuzzled her forehead. “ After all that excitement, it turns out I was tired too, so I decided to have a sleep with you.”

His hand moved down the arch of her back and cupped her ass. She gave him a questioning look.

“We didn’t finish,” he said, seeking her mouth for a kiss. “There’ll be no smoke here. This whole room is fireproof.”

She sucked his lower lip, then pushed him away reluctantly. “But I’m not!”

He gave her a slow up and down look, then shrugged. “Fair enough. Even Ro-” he stopped. “Even others and I had to practice a good bit before we got it just right.” He bounced out of bed. “We made a number of emergency visits to the planet I’m taking you before we did, believe you me,” he said, and opened the door. “Let’s get you some clothes. Can’t lay eyes on your new home in the buff, can you?”

She followed him into what looked like the Queen’s closet. There were racks and racks of both men’s and women’s clothing, some so strange looking it made her giggle. She didn’t search long - she was anxious to see what lay ahead. She held up a seventies style smock dress and a pair of slingback heels.

“This will do.”

“It was Romana’s,” he said, helping her button the back. Her breasts strained against the cloth. “She was built...differently. And we didn’t, uh...” he raised his eyebrow at her.

She nodded and smiled. “It’s so light,” she said, twirling. There were no additional skirts, or a painful corset to squeeze the breath out of her. “I love it.”

“Brilliant. Then give me a second to change.” He disappeared around the corner. She heard rustling cloth. “You’ll love it here. No one will judge you for your particular skillset, or even know. You can make a home. Have a family…” he reappeared looking dapper in a blue suit with the thinnest red pinstripes. The floor seemed to move underneath them, and when they walked through the door, it was into the console room. She hooked her arm through his and smoothed down her dress.

He adjusted his flowered tie and gave her a wink. “Ready to go?”

“Always!”

He snapped his finger and the TARDIS door creaked open.

They walked onto a white sand beach. The water was shallow, but still deepest blue.

She ran to the water and splashed around. The beach was solitary, and the water went on to the horizon. The breeze whipped her skirt around her bare legs.

“This looks like home. Are you sure this place is what-” her sentence was cut off by the roar an enormous space frigate burning its way into the atmosphere over their heads. It moved close overhead, slowing as it moved toward the gleaming city just behind them.

Vehicles swarmed like insects around silver spires that reached the clouds, and there were colored lights shining everywhere from holo billboards.

Her hand went to her mouth, stifling a scream.

“Oh no. Too soon!” Perhaps he should’ve explained to her what she was going to see, prepare her for the sights and sounds. He ran to her, but just as he was going to scoop her back into the TARDIS she started to jump up and down with joy.

“No cages, esto esta de la puta madre!” she shouted, laughing.

The TARDIS translated immediate. No shit, this is bloody fucking brilliant!

He extended his arms. “Magda, welcome to the year 5,000,000,057. Or, more specifically, to New Earth.”

She looked over his shoulder. “Like paradise?”

“No, not biblical. This is New New New New New New New New New New New New New New New...New York.”

“Have you developed a stutter?” she took his face in his hands and looked in his mouth.

“Not at all. This is just the 16th New York. It’s good fun to say it.” He gave her a crooked grin.

“Oh. I’m still stuck on New Earth. What happened to the old one?”

“It was swallowed up by the dying sun on the year 5,000,000,000. Humanity found a planet like Earth on this galaxy, and started over. And over.” He chose not to tell her what had happened with the aboveground population just 28 years before.

“Again, you repeat yourself,” she said, but she didn’t press it.

“So, my planet is dead?” She pressed her hand against her injured belly. “My family...everyone?”

“I’m sorry, but yes. At least, the old Earth is gone. As for any family, who knows? It’s a small universe,” he said, winking at her.

She looked at the sprawling city with awe. “So this is my new home?”

He plucked something out of his pocket - a new holocommunicator that he had gotten from an old friend in the black market.

She looked at it and smiled. “Is it something like your wand?”

“Sonic screwdriver, and no. It’s a pass. For everything. It holds your identity, money, bio info, etcetera.”

“Bio info?” She scrunched up her face as he handed it to her.

“It’s a way for all the systems on the planet to know who you are so you can get a place to live, food, clothes, medical care, and employment.”

“Oh,” she said. “I guess my word doesn’t count here.”

“Not really,” he said, giving her a smile. He took the device back and held it near her face. “This is how it works: put your thumb here,” he pointed at a oval protrusion near the bottom of the round, flat device,”And look here,” he said, pointing to the bezel.

She took it and placed her thumb where he directed. Nothing happened. “It’s broken.”

He looked over her shoulder. “You’ve got to look directly into the round bit. Once it’s got a complete image of your retina, it’ll work.”

“Retina?” she said, looking over her shoulder at him. “Sounds like a food.”

He gently guided her face back to look at the communicator. “Try again.”

She brought the disk close to her face and squinted into it, holding it tight. Suddenly, the bezel flashed.

“Ouch!” She dropped it and sucked her injured thumb. The communicator had taken a drop of her blood along with her fingerprint and a retinal scan.

It spoke in a soothing female voice from the sand. “Bio info successfully acquired. Welcome to New York, Juana Magdalena.”

“How does it know my name?” she said, picking it up.

“I hacked it. There should be enough chits in there to get you started, but you’ll have to use your particular powers of persuasion to find a way to make a living.”

“Right,” she said, staring at the device, then at the city. “I suppose I will.”

He took her hand in his. “You’re braver than any medieval damsel I’ve ever met. It was a pleasure to have known you.”

She smiled at him. “I’m far from a damsel, Doctor. And the feeling is mutual.”

“Go into the the souk, and ask for the Reliquarian. He’s the one who found me the communicator. He will point you in the right direction.”

“I’m a country girl, Doctor, and the city is so vast. I fear it will swallow me up.”

He put his arm around her and kissed her temple. “It’s big, but you’re clever and stronger than you think. I know. I’ve seen into your head,” he said.

She nodded.

“Sky’s the limit now, Madga. If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere.”

A tear rolled down her cheek. “Will I ever see you again?”

“Most probably. I’ve got a reason to visit, now that you’re here,” he said. He walked to the TARDIS and stood at the door. She started walking toward the ferry when he ran after her, yelling.

“One more thing! One more-” he panted lightly beside her.

“Yes?”

He pointed to a huge silver building emblazoned with a crescent moon. “The burns. That hospital there should make you good as new,” he said. He refrained from telling her about the Sisters. He didn’t want to ruin the surprise. “Tell them the Doctor sent you. They won’t charge you chits.” He raised a conspiratorial eyebrow.

The ferry horn blared in warning. They were boarding.

“Just flash the communicator and you’re on your way,” he said, walking backwards into the TARDIS, which had floated close by. He stepped inside.

“Doctor!” she said.

He turned his head.

“Thank you.” Tears fell down her still soot-smudged face.

He nodded, gave her final wink, then disappeared.

#doctor after dark #doctor who #tenth doctor #david tennant #doctor who fanfic #fanfiction #uglywettiewrites

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