Fayth (faythbrady) wrote,
Fayth
faythbrady

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Fic- Drabbles

Title- Drabble Mix
Author- Fayth
Show- Doctor Who
Rating- Mixed (R for one)
Genre- Mixed
Disclaimer- *Beep* Would the human who abducted the Doctor please
Summary- More song inspired drabbles. 

Gabrielle- Give me a little more time
Evanescence- Bring me to life
Dixie Chicks- Without You
Aerosmith- Love in an elevator (R/ M rating)
Shannon Brown- Corn Fed
The Offspring- The worst hangover ever
Dashboard Prophets- Ballad for dead friends
Danielle Peck- Only the lonely talking


Give me a little more time

 

“You've seen how dangerous it is.”

She had. She’d been inches away from being burned to a crisp by rays that wouldn’t exist for five billion years.

She’d seen skin and robotic spiders try to destroy blue aliens. She’d watched as her world exploded into pieces and drifted off into oblivion.

He’d been by her side through it all and he hadn’t let her down; hadn’t let her die.

Did she want that kind of life?

What did she want?

“Do you want to go home?”

“I want…” more time “I want…” a little more time “chips. I want chips.”

 

Bring me to life

 

The alarm clock dragged me from sleep every day at 7:30, bringing me to consciousness. I went to work, I ate beans on toast and watched television and went to bed. It’s a routine you could do in your sleep and I did.

They called it a life, but I wasn’t really living.

Then something happened, something snapped me awake and for the first time I opened my eyes and realised I had been in the dark, without knowing.

He showed me life.

It didn’t take an alarm, didn’t take a song. It took one word, just one word.

“Run.”

 

Without you

 

The rain makes pretty patterns on her window and she smiles as she traces one that looks like his smile. She likes having her own flat, likes being alone. It beats being in a crowd without him. She hopes he’s okay and having the time of his life.

She’s not. Not yet. But she will. He told her to have a fantastic life and she will.

She knows she’ll smile again and she looks forward to it; looks forward to not feeling the ache deep inside.

But for now she smiles at the rain, while she waits for the sun.

 

Love in an elevator

 

“Looks like it’s just you and me.”

“Yep.”

“Good.”

The doors close and he slams her against the wall, her legs around his waist and tongues entwining before the lift starts moving.

His hand fists in her hair, knocking it from its style. Her nails drag down his back, under his jacket. He bites her neck, deep scratches of possession.

Breathing heavy, blood heated, hands roaming, hearts hammering.

Teeth, tongue, nails, writhing, thrusting.

Longing, wanting, teasing.

So near, so far.

Needing.

Desperate.

Almost…

“Floor 500.”

Presentable before the doors open.

Sly smiles as they go on to save the world.

 

Corn Fed

 

As they walk into the huge wooden structure, hundreds of eyes turn to face her. Rose realises that they aren’t evil; they aren’t about to chase her, kill her or execute her.

She’s disappointed.

She’d prefer it, actually.

As one they move and start to gather in long formal lines, like drones.

“No.”

She turns and walks out, her pig-tails trailing behind her.

He watches her denim-clad rear sway with a smile and chases her out, catching her checked shirt before she can move.

“C’mon, Rose. You asked if I danced.”

She grits her teeth. “I didn’t mean Barn Dance.”

 

The Worst Hangover ever.

 

Four hyper-vodkas and he woke up with his executioners.

Three hyper-vodkas and two Nova-Scotches and he woke up with feathers and a confused potted plant.

Six hyper-vodkas, three Nova-Scotches and seven shots of Sun-spot and he’s still not sure he’s awake.

He’s never going to drink again.

Jack counts body parts four times and gets a different result each time. He gives up.

He’d crawl to the bathroom but he’s not sure which way is up.

The Doctor hands him a miracle cure and he wants to die. Rose smiles and he might just live.

There’s always next weekend.

 

 

Ballad for Dead friends

 

“Here’s to Jack, who I left to rot on a space-station.”

Clink.

“Here’s to Sarah-Jane, who I abandoned in Aberdeen.”

Clink.

“Here’s to sweet Lynda with a Y, who died for us all.”

Clink.

“Here’s to Gwyneth who paid for my mistake.”

Clink.

“Here’s to Reinette, who died waiting for me.”

Clink.

“Here’s to Romana and Adric, casualties of war.”

Clink.

“Here’s to friends lost and gone.”

Clink.

“Sir, I think you’ve had enough.”

“One more. Here’s to you, my beautiful Rose, who died in battle. Latest in a long line. I really wish I could have saved you.”

Clink.

 

Only the lonely talking

 

Hours after the fireplace closed the Doctor kissed her, and she was so shocked she let him.

There was a time she would have given anything for him to look at her in that way. But not now, not just yet.

She pushed him away and his face fell.

“But I thought you wanted—”

“I do,” she smiled gently, forgiving. “But not if it’s only the ‘lonely angel’ talking. I’m not a substitute. I want you but give yourself time. It’s too soon.  I’m not her.”

“You’ve got it wrong,” he whispered as she walked away. “She wasn’t you.”

 

Tags: doctorwho, drabble, fic
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