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icepixieTITLE: When Once the Young Heart of a Maiden
AUTHOR: Icepixie
DISCLAIMER: Much as I would love my own little Charley and Eight, Doctor Who and its characters are not mine.
RATING: F for Fluff! (G/All Ages)
PAIRING: Eight/Charley
WORD COUNT: 787
TIMELINE: Set sometime between "Seasons of Fear" and "The Time of the Daleks"; absolutely no spoilers for anything, although it hints vaguely at events in "Scherzo"
SUMMARY: "He could feel her breath on his lips when she murmured, 'You're a better thief than I am.'"
NOTES: Thanks very much to my beta,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elflore!
And when once the young heart of a maiden is stolen,
The maiden herself will steal after it soon.
-- Thomas Moore, "Ill Omens"
*
"There, I've stolen it," said Charley triumphantly, rocking back on her heels.
The Doctor regarded her with a raised eyebrow and blatant curiosity. She had just stood up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his, so quickly that he hadn't even had time to realize what was happening before she had pulled back, and he was very quick at observation, if he did say so himself. "What exactly did you steal?"
"The kiss you promised me," she said, as if he should have known exactly what she was talking about. "Remember? Last week, when we were captured by those awful androids and I figured out that the trick to getting away from them was a well-placed brooch pin, you said, 'Charley, I could kiss you, especially if we get out of here alive.' Well, we got out alive."
"Let me think...no, I'm afraid I don't remember that at all," he replied. He really didn't, although it did sound like something he would have said when he was distracted by something like getting them out of trouble, when his mouth unfortunately acted on its own without consulting his brain. "So I suppose I'll have to steal it back."
Lightning-quick, he leaned down and pecked her on the lips, taking time in the bare half-second it lasted to appreciate the fullness of them, and the sweetness of the little "o" of surprise they were wearing.
He'd barely begun to enjoy his victory when Charley said, "I don't think so!" This time she put her hand behind his head and dragged him down to her level.
This kiss lasted longer than the others, perhaps not quite long enough to be considered intimate, but certainly longer than could be called chaste. When she let him go, Charley was smiling like a cat with cream all along its whiskers. Clearly, she thought she had won this round.
Clearly, she was quite wrong.
He knew he shouldn't, that this was leading somewhere neither of them were truly ready to go, but it had become a competition, one that he couldn't bear to lose. So, placing one hand on her back and using the other to cup her cheek, he gently drew her closer.
His hand found its way to the soft hairs at the nape of her neck and his fingers tangled among them, holding her to him as they kissed. He watched her eyes slowly slide closed, and felt the little sigh she gave. The background noise of the TARDIS faded away, and for a moment, even the Time Lord lost track of time.
When he thought that perhaps he ought to let Charley breathe, the Doctor pulled away. She wavered a bit, a small smile on her face, before opening her eyes. She was still so close that he could feel her breath on his lips when she murmured, "You're a better thief than I am."
He had won, or so he thought. But if the glint in her eye was any indication, it wouldn't be for long, and who knew what it might spiral into if Charley decided to renew their contest. "Charley, I think you should go put the kettle on," he said.
The way his eyes had darkened and the tight grip he had on her shoulders--she didn't think it was conscious--persuaded her to agree. "Oh. Good idea." She backed up a step and began to head for the kitchen.
"I'll join you in a moment," the Doctor said, focusing on the TARDIS console, flipping switches and turning dials that probably didn't need to be fiddled with just for something to occupy his hands.
"All right," she called back, and he heard the click of her shoes on the floor as she disappeared from the console room. His hands slowed over the controls, and he stared through them, seeing not the indicators of spatial and temporal location, but rather Charley's cheerful face smiling up at him, the stolen kiss still red on her lips.
With a chuckle, he patted the console and headed for the kitchen.
End
x-posted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
zagreuswaits and who_otp
AUTHOR: Icepixie
DISCLAIMER: Much as I would love my own little Charley and Eight, Doctor Who and its characters are not mine.
RATING: F for Fluff! (G/All Ages)
PAIRING: Eight/Charley
WORD COUNT: 787
TIMELINE: Set sometime between "Seasons of Fear" and "The Time of the Daleks"; absolutely no spoilers for anything, although it hints vaguely at events in "Scherzo"
SUMMARY: "He could feel her breath on his lips when she murmured, 'You're a better thief than I am.'"
NOTES: Thanks very much to my beta,
elflore!And when once the young heart of a maiden is stolen,
The maiden herself will steal after it soon.
-- Thomas Moore, "Ill Omens"
*
"There, I've stolen it," said Charley triumphantly, rocking back on her heels.
The Doctor regarded her with a raised eyebrow and blatant curiosity. She had just stood up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his, so quickly that he hadn't even had time to realize what was happening before she had pulled back, and he was very quick at observation, if he did say so himself. "What exactly did you steal?"
"The kiss you promised me," she said, as if he should have known exactly what she was talking about. "Remember? Last week, when we were captured by those awful androids and I figured out that the trick to getting away from them was a well-placed brooch pin, you said, 'Charley, I could kiss you, especially if we get out of here alive.' Well, we got out alive."
"Let me think...no, I'm afraid I don't remember that at all," he replied. He really didn't, although it did sound like something he would have said when he was distracted by something like getting them out of trouble, when his mouth unfortunately acted on its own without consulting his brain. "So I suppose I'll have to steal it back."
Lightning-quick, he leaned down and pecked her on the lips, taking time in the bare half-second it lasted to appreciate the fullness of them, and the sweetness of the little "o" of surprise they were wearing.
He'd barely begun to enjoy his victory when Charley said, "I don't think so!" This time she put her hand behind his head and dragged him down to her level.
This kiss lasted longer than the others, perhaps not quite long enough to be considered intimate, but certainly longer than could be called chaste. When she let him go, Charley was smiling like a cat with cream all along its whiskers. Clearly, she thought she had won this round.
Clearly, she was quite wrong.
He knew he shouldn't, that this was leading somewhere neither of them were truly ready to go, but it had become a competition, one that he couldn't bear to lose. So, placing one hand on her back and using the other to cup her cheek, he gently drew her closer.
His hand found its way to the soft hairs at the nape of her neck and his fingers tangled among them, holding her to him as they kissed. He watched her eyes slowly slide closed, and felt the little sigh she gave. The background noise of the TARDIS faded away, and for a moment, even the Time Lord lost track of time.
When he thought that perhaps he ought to let Charley breathe, the Doctor pulled away. She wavered a bit, a small smile on her face, before opening her eyes. She was still so close that he could feel her breath on his lips when she murmured, "You're a better thief than I am."
He had won, or so he thought. But if the glint in her eye was any indication, it wouldn't be for long, and who knew what it might spiral into if Charley decided to renew their contest. "Charley, I think you should go put the kettle on," he said.
The way his eyes had darkened and the tight grip he had on her shoulders--she didn't think it was conscious--persuaded her to agree. "Oh. Good idea." She backed up a step and began to head for the kitchen.
"I'll join you in a moment," the Doctor said, focusing on the TARDIS console, flipping switches and turning dials that probably didn't need to be fiddled with just for something to occupy his hands.
"All right," she called back, and he heard the click of her shoes on the floor as she disappeared from the console room. His hands slowed over the controls, and he stared through them, seeing not the indicators of spatial and temporal location, but rather Charley's cheerful face smiling up at him, the stolen kiss still red on her lips.
With a chuckle, he patted the console and headed for the kitchen.
End
x-posted to
zagreuswaits and who_otp
no subject
Date: 2006-06-02 02:31 am (UTC)Thank you! :)
and I must add that you have fabulous taste in music! :)
Hee! Oh, man, I love just about everything Vaughan Williams ever composed, but this one especially, I think.
no subject
Date: 2006-06-02 02:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-02 03:03 am (UTC)Mmm, "Lark" is just gorgeous. I especially love that high, trilling violin solo at the end. And the whole piece kind of puts me in the same lazy-summer's-day-in-Oxford mind as, say, Carroll's Alice books.
no subject
Date: 2006-06-02 03:26 am (UTC)Yup. Though you can say that about a lot of his music, I don't think anything puts me there faster than "Lark."
And clearly I need an icon like yours, just...turned upside down ;)
no subject
Date: 2006-06-02 03:46 am (UTC)Bwah! You do! Ah, you crazy folks over on the other end of the risers...
no subject
Date: 2006-06-02 11:14 am (UTC)Hey, watch it there! ;)
no subject
Date: 2006-06-02 04:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-02 09:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-02 11:24 pm (UTC)*jaw drops* Wow! My shining achievement, back when I was taking lessons in high school, was an F below middle C, and that was only when I was really warmed up and was doing scales down to it. Now the A is about as far as I can go reliably, Ab on a good day. (Luckily, that's as far as four years of college choir ever asked me to go. On the other hand, as even the other first sopranos were groaning at prospect of another C two octaves above middle C, I was mentally going, "More like this, please!")
I admit, when I've been stuck on two Gs above middle C for thirty-some measures while everyone else gets to move around, the alto lines have started looking mighty nice. ;) Usually I quite enjoy having the melody, though, and that euphoric feeling of hitting a really high note as fortissimo as possible right at the end of a piece, in a huge choir, cannot be beat. *wallows in nostalgia*
BTW, may I friend you?
no subject
Date: 2006-06-03 12:56 am (UTC)Hey, I'm a second alto (with slight tenorish tendencies, but having sung tenor for Carmina Burana, I can safely say that it's a nice place to visit but I wouldn't want to live there). I'm sure you can reach notes that I can sometimes, you know....think about ;)
The highest note I ever reliably sang in college was an F. Fauré Requiem, Offertory. Most gorgeous "Amen" ever, IMHO. I've had at least one vocal coach claim that I'm really a soprano, but I think he's full of it, because if it were true, I doubt I'd have a sore throat every time I try consistent high stuff. And hey, that's why we need sopranos anyway :)
BTW, may I friend you?
Sure! Why not? :)
no subject
Date: 2006-06-03 01:13 am (UTC)I know, but even so, that just seems...kinda tenory. Very cool.
I'm sure you can reach notes that I can sometimes, you know....think about ;)
Heh. ;)
Fauré Requiem, Offertory. Most gorgeous "Amen" ever, IMHO.
*makes note to check it out sometime* *makes note to quit making so many puns*
I've had at least one vocal coach claim that I'm really a soprano, but I think he's full of it
I had one choir teach try to put me in the first alto section. It lasted all of a week. There's always one...
Sure! Why not? :)
Nifty! *friends*