#david tennent x reader

[chronically-ghosted]

it has been an honor and a pleasure edging the both of you 🫡

there ain't enough room in this Pontiac for the two of us

rating: E for Explicit! 18+

word count: 8K

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

summary:  1. No sex. 2. No touching yourself. 3. No orgasms. 4. No murdering your annoying DEA partner. (A Javier Peña-shaped rift on this iconic fic)

tags/warnings: smut, dubcon/noncon elements, hand jobs (f receiving), no use y/n, javi being sexually frustrating as hell, time period compliant sexism (not from Javi)

a/n: please go read the original fic. Her’s is far superior to mine and this is but a shameful hollow echo.

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Bogota

11:23PM

Back before you willingly and eagerly joined the special task force between several unruly government organizations created with sole and express purpose to hunt down and catch the cartel king Pablo Escobar – before you applied to the DEA on the highest recommendation of your law professor, your criminal psychology professor, and the dean of admission, all whom believed your talents, (despite the unfortunate accident that you were a woman) would have a deep and profound impact on catching those responsible for the deaths of thousands worldwide –  hell, even before you applied to Stanford and you spent your free time oscillating between color guard, JROTC, and retaking your practice SATs and ACTs until you got nearly a perfect score so that the realization that you didn’t have one single friend in the world to distract you from your single-minded almost obsessive focus to prove yourself, despite all your faults – 

Before all of that –

If someone had discreetly taken you by the arm, gently sat you down, and told you what a perfect and deluded idiot you would make of yourself on a seven hour stake out on a dark, rainy night in the capital of Colombia, well, you probably would have laughed them out the door.

You aren’t one really predisposed to bouts of uncontrollable, side-splitting, “I’m laughing so hard I’m afraid to take a breath out of fear of the noise that’s going to come out of my nose” laughter, but if someone allowed you to take a good, long, healthy look at one of your more unhealthy habits – that, of course, being your almost toxic levels of competitive behavior – you might have been prone to at least one giggle.

The thing was, you really didn’t lose. Ever. You didn’t back then and you don’t now and your tenacious, unbreakable will made you not only a formidable and dogged DEA agent, but it also (and perhaps more importantly) made you a social, professional, and absolutely mental equal to men like Javier fucking Peña. 

Javier Peña, whom women would literally melt into a puddle around, whom men would clamor over themselves just to get a drink with. He’s just so fucking cool, you overheard one of the office interns mutter to another, just look at him. That was also the day you spilled coffee down your entire blouse because you squeezed your styrofoam coffee cup too hard, but that was an entirely unrelated matter. 

Whatever sway Peña seemed to inflict over the panties of every woman in the building, you resolutely stayed immune. When you first joined, it had been easy to avoid him. So much so, you were completely flummoxed when the man with the name you’d heard whispered in the hallways, finally made his way over to your side of the building for a meeting with your boss. He walked in with a badly-fitted suit, bags under his eyes, the reeking stench of day-old cigarettes, but by the reactions of the phone girls, you’d thought Elvis himself had just emerged from his coffin and began performing “Hound Dog” topless in bedazzled pants. 

This? This is “The Guy”? The guy that women on your floor would spend their entire lunch breaks in the bathroom comparing stories over – “yes, Kathy, I heard his dick really is that huge!” “Yes, Shannon swears he made come for hours just with his tongue!”

Him? 

Really?

Was it just slim pickings between married men and wheezing senators? 

Never meet your heroes, I guess.

That was back in the late 80s. Back before the bombings and the kidnappings and the mutilated bodies of journalists.

Things had changed. Significantly. 

Once things had gotten – let’s just say, dire – the agency started moving around teams, prioritizing certain missions over others. Which meant not only were you taken off a case you had just spent the better part of a year and a half building, but you were reassigned to a new team. Co-led by the one and only Javier. Fucking. Peña. 

Now, Javier didn’t like the rain, especially not after a seven hour stake out. You knew this because every time it rained, he stormed into the pen, snorting like an enraged bull, his hair wet and his shoulders damp. Why the man couldn’t just simply go out and pick up an umbrella, you didn’t feel the need to ask. But it set your teeth on edge that a grown adult would be so annoyed by something that had such a simple solution. More than once you thought about hurling your own umbrella like a javelin at him, but your fighting matches had become legendary around the office and you refused to be provoked again by Javier’s own arrogance. 

But that’s what started all of this, right? 

You, with your white-hot competitive streak, and him, with his over-inflated ego, clashed again and again – until finally about the one thing both brought you a sense of pride: your sex lives. 

Annoyingly, this was proving more difficult than you anticipated. 

Thumbing the rim of your third lukewarm coffee of the night, you sigh, long and loud, not entirely regretful of the choices that led you here, but simply rather irked that someone had come along and finally proved to be a real challenge.

“Shut it.” 

“Excuse me?” 

Javier, who had been sitting next to you for the better part of the past seven hours, his long legs tucked up around the bulky wheel of the black Pontiac Firefly the agency had rented for this mission, continues to scowl through the dark and the rain at the spot where you had tracked one of Pablo’s higher ranking enforcers. A gambling den on the first floor, and a brothel in the basement, most men you tailed here spent only a few hours betting and fucking, before wandering back home, probably a little drunk and significantly less horny. But this guy – fuck – did he have the stamina of an Olympic athlete?

What had begun as a quick follow up to some intel your team received earlier in the week had turned into one of the longest and most unbearable nights of your life. 

“I said, shut it.” 

Your mouth drops open. “I am literally just breathing, Javier.” 

“Yeah and you’re doing it too loud.” He takes a sip from the coffee between his legs then resumes his hunched, crossed arm position. “It’s annoying.”

Huffing, you sink lower in your seat, as much as the surveillance equipment and evidence boxes around your legs would allow. 

“This is so stupid,” you grumble. 

“This is basic DEA work, sweetheart. If you can’t cut it, I’m sure I can find someone – literally anyone – else to take your spot. Sarah’s always been eager to spend some extra time alone with me. Or what about Mac? You two get along right? Who am I kidding? You get along with e-e-everyone–,” 

It is infuriating he knows exactly where to poke and prod to supercharge your competitiveness as well as your jealousy.

“I’m not talking about the sting, Javier! I’m talking about your need to always be in control. I’m talking about how, just because you can’t get your fucking rocks off, you’ve been sniping at everyone in the building.” You scowl and lean as far away from him as you can in the cramped hatchback. “Making everyone’s lives hell because you haven’t gotten your dick wet in a month.” 

“Oh, sure, I’m the only one being a fucking nuisance in the office,” he sneers, scratching at his forehead with his thumbnail. “After your little meltdown at the copier machine, I think Mark from accounting would rather fist-fight God than have to ask you for a stapler again.” 

You snatch up the used napkins in the cupholder between you and shred it to pieces. You chuck the little bits at him as you snap back,

“The. Stapler. Was. Right. There! He. Was. Being. Stupid!” 

“Stop it! You’re going to get it in my coffee!” 

With a snarl, you hurl the mangled rest of the napkin at him and he swats it out of the air. It rolls over the dashboard, fluttering in the AC that was doing absolutely nothing to combat the sticky humidity. 

He did this to you. He always did this to you. Made you feel like a silly child, an overly emotional brat, for pointing out things he did time and time again. Why was he allowed to get away with it and you weren’t?

In the temporary silence, the rain patters loudly on the roof of the car. Headlights emerge from the gloom and disappear as the few unlucky caught out in this deluge run from awning to awning with magazines, newspapers, or umbrellas tucked over their heads. It had been raining for hours and it seemed to have no intention of stopping anytime soon. 

You aren’t sure which irritates you more: the humidity or the stickiness gathering on the crotch of your panties.

It had been there for days, constant, a reminder, no matter how often you changed them out for some temporary escape. Your thighs tightened as close as they could, but a large storage box split your legs apart. 

“You know,” Javier begins softly, almost contrite, gentle in a way you’d never heard before. He's pinching the edge of his coffee cup with his fingers, resolutely not looking at you. “If this bothers you so much, you can just quit. Call it off. No hard feelings.” 

You snort. He really is the most ridiculous man alive. 

“Yeah? You’d get the satisfaction of finally coming, after being hard for at least – what, a month, month and a half? – and half my next paycheck? I don’t think so.” You adjust in your seat, your left hip starting to ache from the position you’ve been maintaining for seven hours. “Well, the money’s one thing. But I think I’d rather be physically shot than have to listen to you parade around the office, gleefully spilling secrets about me as your latest conquest, bragging to all your little buddies around the water cooler how you finally bested that bitch in the bullpen. At that point, I’d rather we just actually fuck. At least that way I can finally understand what the fuck has the secretaries all in a goddamn hissy fit over.” 

After nearly a third of the day spent next to you, he finally tears his gaze away from the target and looks at you. His dark eyebrows drawn down, plush lips frowning, he’s unnervingly serious. You wonder if you actually managed to make him genuinely angry.

“I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t brag about you to anyone, even if you lost. And I especially would never if you let me fuck you.” Let me? Now that’s a turn of phrase you definitely won’t spend hours thinking about. His frown deepens as he glances down to his coffee cup. “People – women – like to talk, but I never say anything, to anyone. I don’t encourage it, but it feels like I’m the one being checked off a list. Like I’m a space on a fucking bingo card. It’s rude.”

Gobsmacked into silence, you watch as he cranks down the window for just enough space to chuck his (and yours) empty coffee cups out onto the wet road beside the car. You let him tug it out of from between your legs without a single line of snark.

Your brain finally comes back online when the window squeaks back into place. 

Hang on a second – did you really just feel bad for the office casanova? That little shit manipulated you into actually feeling sorry for the dozens of women he willingly brings home then turns out like used toilet paper. You can feel that decades old hate and disgust crack open and boil in your stomach.

“Well, hey, Javi, here’s an idea. Just stop fucking the women you work with. If it bothers you so much, then stop fucking women entirely!”

“I did! I have done that and I am!” He gestures wildly with his hands, palms out as if in supplication. “Everyone in the office – including Noonan, I’m pretty sure – knows about this stupid fucking bet and for once, it’s been great to have an excuse to not have to hold up my expectation of being a great lay!” 

You will not allow yourself the time to fully process the idea that not only is Javier Peña grateful to not have to fuck a skirt, but it’s you he’s doing it for, so you snarl back, as you always do.

“Then what? What’s got you so fucking wound up, if your poor dick needs a break from getting sucked?”

With a groan that starts somewhere in his lower ribcage, he falls forward into the steering wheel, his forehead on the rim. 

“I’m not saying that, alright? It’s actually been nice to have my bed to myself for a bit. But Jesus Christ, I miss pussy.” 

Don’t. 

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about the way he says it. Like it’s holy.

The warmth of the humidity in the car ratchets up as your heart starts to race, your palms sweat. You wonder vaguely if there’s condensation on the inside of the windows. He shouldn’t be allowed to get you so wet by just saying the word. You swallow, clawing back that familiar anger until you feel in control again. 

“So then go get it.” You wave your hand around the dark streets of Bogota. “Just go out there and end this thing once and for all. God knows I’m sick and tired of having to listen to you roll around, grunting and huffing, with a hard-on so big I can almost hear it.”

“What are you so mad at me for?” He snaps up, a much more palatable rage in his eyes. “All of this – the bet, the rules, the fact that you actually included wet dreams – you decided on!”

“You’re the one who demanded you move into my apartment for the entire duration of this hell! You’re the one who went out and bought two twin beds like a fucking maniac and made me take out my bed to put in your little torture devices to make sure neither of us cheated off the clock!” 

“And you agreed to it! I’m not the only insane one here! Sometimes I think you do it on purpose – kicking and fighting with the sheets, moaning in your sleep, rubbing yourself up on the mattress. Twice now I’m pretty sure I’ve gone blind in one eye, listening to all that and not being able to do a goddamn thing about it.” 

You scoff, but now slightly uneasy. You’ve been moaning in your sleep? Fuck. Taking down your overbearing and egotistical coworker a few pegs was one thing. Becoming roommates with him was something else entirely. About two weeks in, he had come out of the bedroom without his shirt on – he’s been doing that more and more lately – and you had to sit in the bathroom with your hands clamped around the toilet seat for ten minutes straight to keep from finger-fucking yourself on the living room coffee table. 

“I’m honestly surprised you didn’t want to install cameras in the shower just to make sure I’m not jacking off in secret. You better not be doing what I think you’re doing in there, Javi. You touch yourself once and I win, Javi. Stop looking at my ass when I’m wearing less clothes than a Victoria Secret model, Javi.” 

“It’s summer in Bogota, you jackass,” you snipe, particularly ruffled by his high-pitched affectation of you. It stings more than it should because it sounds exactly like the shrill harpy all your male coworkers make you out to be. “What do you want me to wear?”

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, something terrifying like a smirk crawling across his perfect mouth and you feel the safety of annoyance crumble out from under you. He really is so fucking pretty.

“A puffy snowsuit would be lovely, actually. Arms, legs, all wrapped up. Cover your gorgeous hair in a hat too, if we’re at it. But if I knew you’d wear what I bought you, all you had to do was say so. Women always say I have excellent taste.”

You sigh, again, irritated and desperate to relieve that fist of tension in your shoulders, that gently knotting warmth between your legs. You wonder how much rubbing your crotch with the seam of your jeans you could get away with before he’d say something. 

No, fuck, shit – focus. You’ve got to get a grip. This is just like those long night study sessions at the academy. All you had to do was buckle down and get serious about this. Sleep deprivation and curtailing your basic instincts didn’t scare you. You had been outlasting men like Javier your entire life and you weren’t about to get weak-kneed now. 

And then something occurs to you that you hadn’t really considered before.

You had been so caught up in your own denial, in fighting your own need to hump your pillow even for a bit of relief – you hadn’t stopped to think what this might be doing to him.

Jesus Christ, I miss pussy. 

Here's a crack in his resolve and you had seen it. Just for a minute. But it's there. You didn’t have to win so much as to make him lose.

Javier Peña. Nowhere to go and having nothing to fuck made him a very dangerous man. One you could easily exploit. However, and as much as it physically pained you to admit, Javier was smart. Blind-sided by his own horniness, or not, if he caught wind of you purposefully stacking the odds against him, there was no telling what he’d do in retaliation. 

For a moment, your sex-deprived brain lounges in the idea of the many forms his retaliation might take. 

No – Focus. You lick your lips, wrenching your gaze to the ceiling of the car. You had to be very careful about this. 

“Look, I’m sorry, alright?” Go at it from the side. Around back while his attention is focused elsewhere. This was fucking guerilla warfare tactics. Placate him with submission. “I didn’t realize my outfits were bothering you. It’s just . . . it’s been so hot lately. I feel like I wake up, drenched wet in sweat, and it’s just too much still. And then, with this bet, sometimes I wake up and between my legs, I’m so –,”

A fist slams against the inside of the window so hard and so loud it makes you jump. His shoulders hunched, the fist in his lap tight and white-knuckled, he doesn’t even fully open his mouth when he snarls, “Do not . . . under any circumstances . . . finish that fucking sentence.” 

He’s breathing heavily, breath skipping between his ribs, and you know you’ve got your opening. Your bottom lip drawn in between your teeth, you’re as much transfixed by his control visibly slipping as you are secretly, darkly thrilled to hear him make those noises. He breathes for a few more times, eyes closed. The sound of rain makes another appearance.

His hands come up to wrap around the steering wheel, as if he were picturing something else flexing beneath his palms. 

“I know what you’re doing, or what you think you’re doing. But it’s not going to work. It’s just going to make me mad and I am not above hauling you over my lap and spanking you for being such a tease.” 

You aren’t sure what shorts out your brain first: the fact he caught on so quickly, or the mental image he’s painting – and how much you fucking love it. God, when did it get so hot in here? You can feel sweat pooling along the ridge of your spine, under the cups of your bra. As though reading your mind, he shucks off his notorious brown jacket and hurls it into the back seat. Your toes curl in your boots. He’s wearing that white linen shirt that expertly shows off the cut of his biceps, his forearms and is more appropriate for a beach trip in Hawaii than the mean streets of Bogota. In his movement, his infamous sunglasses clatter against his stomach – if he just buttoned his collar all the way up like any man with an ounce of decency, they wouldn’t get in the way as much. You want to tell him that, correct him yet again, but now you can see the sweat shine in his clavicle, skin slightly pink and feverish over the hollow of his throat. You had no idea you affected him this much.

“You’re right. This is ridiculous.” He huffs, tossing back his glasses too before flopping back against the seat. “This can’t be healthy, at least. Edging ourselves for weeks at a time. I keep seeing tits in the clouds.”

“So then end it already.” You don’t mean to sound breathless – it’s the opposite of what you want – but your heart rate still hasn’t settled over the idea of Javier spanking you till your ass is red. He’s so much bigger than you, broader. He’d do it rough, if you asked, you know he would. You really hate to sound like you’re begging, but maybe you are. His eyes snap open wide at your near whimper. “Javi, please. We’re not going anywhere. He’s been in there for hours and he’s not coming out any time soon. Just unbutton your pants – I can just watch you – drop your hand in your underwear and –,”

A hand that can cup you nearly from ear to ear flies across the console and claps over your mouth. Something’s changed about him. You can see it in his eyes. At this point in your partnership, you had become fairly good at identifying his emotions, given there were only a handful he ever cycled through: tired, irritated, bored, furious, frustrated, disappointed. But this . . . this is different. His shoulders still face forward, arm reached out over the console, but his thick eyebrows arch down, as if he’s considering something. His head is cocked slightly to the side. You have to stop yourself from breathing in a sigh when his tongue wets his bottom lip.

“I’ll willingly lose this godforsaken bet on one condition,” he rasps out. His hand is warm, all consuming, you can barely breathe under it. You train your entire focus into the way his hair flops over his forehead to keep from whining at what his deep voice does to your lower half. Your muscles clench and your neglected pussy drools. Fuckin’ traitor. “And the condition is, that after this is done, after this fucking doomed stakeout is finally over, I drive us home and you let me rail you against our couch. How does that sound?”

You squeak, once. That’s it, but you can already feel that tell-tale hum, that warmth that almost itches, taking root below your stomach. His eyebrows arch in surprise, in victory, that smirk threatening to make an appearance. Your nails dig into the pleather seat – you want to thrash back, to get out from under the weight of his hand, to snark back a litany of responses that are not only mean but belittling – but you don’t. 

You know he can feel you swallow and his eyelids hover halfway as he licks his bottom lip. He shifts, elbow now pressing against the back of the seat, his weight leaning forward, almost pressing down on you. His other hand is dangerously close to your knee. 

“I’d make it good. I’d make it so fucking good, I swear. I’ll get down on my hands and knees and eat that wet little pussy for as long as you want. Lick and suck that attitude right out of your cunt.”

The car is too small, too cramped. Heat is washing over you in waves and the ache between your thighs is burning. With him this close, you can smell his cologne, the cologne that you rib him endlessly for because you’ve watched women inhale it like a pheromone as he passes down the hall. The scent now floods your senses, choking out everything that isn’t him, and your fingers dig up around his wrist, to pry him off you. You can feel sweat trickle down your temple onto his pinkie over your cheek. He watches it with his eyes, hungry and ready to devour. You have to wrestle back some semblance of control, or else your heart is going to beat out of your chest. 

With all the strength left over from keeping yourself from bucking your hips up into the center console, you shove him back across the car. 

“You fucking . . . stay over there,” you croak, gulping down air as if you had been deprived. He sprawls back, arms outstretched across the window ledge and the back of his seat. “Don’t ever fucking t-touch me again. Those things y-you said. I should report you–,” 

“Why?” he chuckles. “You liked it. Thought you were going to eat me there for a minute . . . and I would’ve let you.”

It’s remarkably easy how your white-knuckled, lightning-sparked anticipation for him to do exactly what he said he’d do quickly morphs into a near-blinding rage. He doesn’t get it – he still doesn’t get it – he thinks this all a fucking game, when every minute of every day, your entire self-worth was put on the line.

But this is how you danced with him – right up to the edge, barking, screaming, yelling, then when it got real, or even almost real, you backed down. And he knew it.

“You really deserve someone who knows what they’re doing,” he continues. He folds his arms across his chest, grinning wildly. “Maybe that would teach you to be nice. Is that why you’re so nasty all the time? Someone who cares about you to properly stuff up that sweet little pussy in the way you need it?”

You feel fire crackle up and down your spine, plunging low to lick your insides every time he muses about the state of your cunt, then sky-rocketing back into this rage you’ve built out like walls.

It’s your turn to twist in the seat, to push against the windows as if you could expand and break out from this twisted scrap of metal that kept you chained to him.

“This is not about sex, Javier.” Your teeth ache from grounding out the words. “This is about proving to every single man out there that I deserve to be here. That I’m not just some cock-struck idiot who falls to her knees just because you snap your fingers. I don’t care what you think I need or what you want to do to me. I don’t care because until I come out of this bet the winner, all they’ll ever see is a pair of tits who negs them to do their fucking jobs.”

That wipes the smirk instantly off his face.

His eyes go soft and that might be worse than when he threatened your cunt. 

“You think I don’t respect you.” It wasn’t a question but a surprised, almost hurt, statement. He sits up as best he can while still facing you. You were both irate and appreciative that you didn’t have to put it all into words. Words that would make you, again, feel like an overly emotional wimp. Someone with feelings. “You think I’m doing this – that I’m still doing this – because I want to humiliate you.”

You wait in silence for the pricking in your throat to subside before continuing on. “Is that not why? To bend that bitch as far as she’ll go before she breaks so everyone can see how much of a child she really is?”

His nostrils flare. “That’s the second time you’ve called yourself that tonight and I won’t stand for a third. Do you understand?”

His protectiveness flares so fast you aren’t quite sure what to do with it, so you nod.

“Good.”

Javier turns back around, his knees spread outright around the edge of the steering wheel, and picks the packet of cigarettes from underneath the radio. He wheels down the window again, rain spitting inside the inner ledge, and he lights up for the first time all night. His breath is shaky as he exhales through the crack he made. You can’t stop staring at the shine against his throat. What was rain and what was sweat? The golden lights from the store fronts and shops make the curls around his neck glow. 

“I’m sorry that by fighting with you, I made you feel inferior. If you can believe it, I actually respect the living shit out of you and I . . .” He taps out ash before dropping his gaze to his lap. “That was never my intention, but Christ alive, you drive me crazy.” 

If anyone ever asked, with a gun to your head, what was the one thing that immediately turned you on, you would without question answer with: Javier’s voice. How deep it got when he barked orders. How stern and serious it was when he directed raids and stationed soldiers. How playful it could be when you stopped trying to claw his eyes out. 

He inhales slowly, thoughtfully, before blowing out again, fully turning his shoulders away from you as if something he is ashamed to admit is crawling up his chest into his mouth. He presses back against the seat, his unoccupied fingers tapping on his thigh. 

“I think you’re one of the best agents I’ve ever met,” he confesses quietly. “Which should be the only opinion that matters, actually. I don’t say that to be egotistical – this bet isn’t about them. It’s between you and me, so fuck them. They’re all idiots and you know that. They know you know that and that’s why they want to take you down. Some men can’t stand it when a woman is smarter than them.”

Your tongue unsticks from the roof of your mouth. There is a heady mixture of pride, relief, and lust swirling lower and lower. He thought you were one of the best agents he’s ever met. Your lower half tightens at the praise, especially coming from him. “And you? What do you think?”

Javier grins. He flicks the butt end of the cigarette out the window and rolls it all the way up as he says,

“It’s a fucking turn on, is what I think.” His hips adjust towards you, that obnoxious belt buckle gleaming in the low light. Do not look at his crotch. He presses the backs of his two fingers against his mouth as he watches you. “But I’m not going to let you win this bet because you flutter your pretty eyes at me.” 

He knocks his temple against the headrest, gaze shamelessly sweeping up your thighs, your wrists – of course, your tits – your neck and then your lips. You had caught glimpses of this look from him before – when you were reporting to a room full of slobbering men with precision and direction, or when you kneed a suspect into the ground, pinning him down and cuffing him with the other hand or that one time you joined the game of volleyball at the agency picnic in nothing but a sports bra and swim trunks. But now, that unique Javi look that seemed reserved only for you, it barrels down on you in full force – not another agent or superior around the corner to drag his attention away. Without restraint, he let those dirty, nasty little thoughts spring into his mind and you can almost hear the moans you're making in his head. 

The desire that had been reduced to a simmer suddenly flares up in a fever pitch. Between your legs, your cunt aches at the mere hint of attention.

“Javier, don’t,” you warn. You try to back away, try to cut the argument in half like you do in the office by storming away down a hallway or into the bathroom or your car. But you can’t. You’re pinned by proximity under the weight of his stare. You’re not even fighting with him and he’s making you angry. 

Angry? God, leave it to fucking Javier Peña to prove to you that the line between rage and being outrageously turned on was a razor-thin edge. 

“I’m not even doing anything, baby,” he croons. He rounds his shoulders as if trying to lean forward, cover himself with his body. If you couldn’t see the whites of his knuckles around his clasped hands, you would have feared you would have been making this all up. “I’m not touching you, just like you asked.” 

“Thank you, Javi,” you squeak out. “Now, please let's just get back to–,”

“I could, though, if you change your mind.” His eyes follow a very predictable path up the curve of your throat. “I could touch you. Are you going to change your mind?” 

Even now, on the knife edge, even when he has been extraordinarily honest with you, you can’t make yourself say it. Can’t ask for it.

“It’s against the rules.” Because she's a traitor to you, your cunt leaks when you meet his jet black gaze. You feel the sweat on your neck return so fast you shiver. “I will kick you if you come over here again.” 

“You’re so mean to me but, fuck, I love it so much.” He smirks. With mounting horror, you watch as he lifts his hand, the same one that flew over your mouth, up to the lip of the center console. “Here I am pouring my goddamn heart out, and you want to resort to violence.” 

Not so much cautious, but more with the slow, syrupy flow of direct and deliberate intention, he brushes the backs of his fingers against your thigh. You jolt back, a muffed gasp caught between your teeth, but you don’t move to snatch his hand away. 

He watches your face for any hint of resistance. When he doesn’t find any, he continues, casually flowing the pads of his fingers from the top of your knee, all the way up to your hip.

“Do you wanna know what I think, baby?” He purrs. “I think, somewhere along the way, someone came along and really fucked you up. Hurt you beyond comprehension.” His touch is more insistent now, more of his fingers, his palm occasionally. His thumbs sweeps your inner thigh and your cunt clenches down onto nothing and your teeth ache in your head. 

“Javier–,” 

His eyes flutter for a minute at the sound of his name tearing through your mouth. “Fuck, you’re getting me distracted . . . what was I saying? Oh, yeah . . . I think someone fucked you up and like the fucking warrior you are, you built up safeguards to never let that happen again.” His eyebrow arches lazily as he palms your waist. By the sheer grace of God, you had tucked your shirt into your pants today, never wanting to give the men in the bullpen the satisfaction of an accidental flash of skin. But Javier just tuts at the intrusion. His knuckles digging into your skin, he pinches out the edge of your shirt, bit by bit. “Problem is, you kept building until you locked yourself in and now you don’t know how to get out. You don’t know how to ask nicely at all.” 

His broad palm slides uninterrupted under your shirt, smoothing the rough pads of his fingers across your stomach, and then up to the underwire of your bra. That’s enough to jerk you out of this dizzying haze. 

“Javi, you can’t–,” you squeeze your eyes shut, as tight as your cunt, as he threatens to brush his thumb over your teased nipple. “I–I don’t wanna – I don’t wanna lose –,”

“Fuck the bet, sweetheart. You can tell them I lost for all I care. Right now, I just wanna feel you gush between my fingers.” 

He doesn’t even need to touch your tit to yank that first moan out of you, but the breeze of his thumb only elongates the noise. Your own hand claps over your mouth this time, to muffle half of that stifled sound. 

“None of that now,” he purrs, switching the direction of his hand and going lower on your body. “It’s fine when we’re in public, but here, I want you hoarse from screaming my name as loud as you can.” 

“Javi, please–,” 

His hips twitch. Twitch so hard they jerk off the seat, the side of his crotch rubbing the steering wheel. His eyes roll back in his head.

“Juuust like that, baby. Keep saying my name just like that.” 

His fingers don’t slow down as they breach the waistband of your pants. He didn’t even unzip you so his entire warm hand is shoved right up against your coarse, damp hairs. 

“Fuck, is this sweat, baby, or is it from me? Please fucking lie if it's not and tell me it’s for me.” 

The pad of his middle finger skims the top of your lips, terrifyingly close to your clit and you finally react. Your clit throbbing, your fingers clamp down on his wrist and he freezes. But he’s panting, breathing harshly across the seat. 

“Don’t ask me to stop. Not right now. Please don’t –,”

Your hips buck into his palm and your head drops back against the window. You end up pressing him harder against you and you moan. 

“It’s you, Javier, I’m dripping for you.”

“Shit,” he snarls and rubs himself against the steering wheel again, anything to relieve the pressure. His fingers slide around the edges of your puffy, swollen lips, skitters across your pulsating clit, and you nearly orgasm from the direct touch. You jerk back, the denial of your orgasm almost painful, but because your waistband binds him to you, his fingers come with you and you bump into them again. You almost cry out at the intrusion, but his hand is still. 

“Can I touch you– c-can I put them inside you, baby – please?” 

Tight-lipped, you shake your head furiously, muffling nuh uh between your teeth. He hisses darkly.

“This can’t possibly still be about this stupid fucking bet –,”

“I don’t – w-w-wanna lose – I-I-I don’t wanna lose –,” you swallow, voice breaking, and you yank his hand out from your soaking underwear. You can’t bear to look at his fingertips, assuming from the ocean between your thighs, they’ll come out pruny. But the ache doesn’t go away. It lingers, waiting and lurking for the next touch. It’s been denied too many times tonight. Your head spinning, you gasp for breath for the split second he’ll allow. 

“You know, for such a smart woman, you really don’t get what’s best for you.” His other hand finally comes around and grabs your knee, pinning you apart with his broad hand and his other elbow as his fingers dive for the buttons of your pants. You try to shut your legs, but the box at your feet is immovable. “Just fucking relax and let me take you apart.”

“W-w-wait, Javier, that’s not–,”

His gaze pinning you down as much as his weight is, his fingers deftly unzipping your pants, sliding through the opening, and pressing up against your sodden panties. You gasp. It’s relief, painful, throbbing relief, but it comes at the cost of fire licking your spine. 

“But that’s not what you need, is it, pretty baby? That’s only part of it. Touching is one thing, but you need someone inside of you, don't you? Need someone to fuck up into that pretty cunt.” Your pussy swollen, you fight to breathe as much as it to fight off your impending orgasm. “Just say thank you, Javi when we’re done, alright?” 

Unrelenting and deaf to your cries, his fingers strip back your underwear and finally, finally, finally, he sinks two fingers into your hot, pulsating core. His shoulders shudder as you arch back, letting out a wail. Your thighs quake around the box in front of you. 

“‘Is so good. So warm.” He slurs. His hand releases your knee and slides up your hip to palm as much of your ass as he can reach. “Can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He inhales like he wants to haul you over the console into his lap, but that you resolutely cannot allow, because there would be no coming back from that. You can still see the other side of your orgasm, enough to stifle it back down, sequester it. He strokes your inner muscles, in and out, the wet sound obscene – you must be gushing – and he hums. “Listen to that, sweetheart. God, the things I could do with that. Put you over my fucking shoulder, for one.” 

Your release is roaring at you, the razor-edge of pain and pleasure digging into the meat of your pussy, as you fight again to deny what you actually really want. You plant your heels, rolling your hips against his fingers because if you were going to fucking lose, you were going to be the one to make you do it. Not him.

And then unprompted, he retreats his fingers and all but shoves them into his mouth. His hips buck up again and he’s not breathing properly. You shudder at the loss of contact but at least the edges of your vision return. God, you’re not sure how much more you can take. But there is some respite, even for a moment. Javi seems to have momentarily forgotten how close he had come to winning.

Saliva and your thready cum dripping from between his lip, Javier sucks on his fingers as if someone were threatening to cut off his hand. His hips bump lazily, distractedly, against the steering wheel as his other hand white-knuckles his knee. He licks his wrist up to the meaty side of his palm, never one to waste excess. 

“Fuck, fuck, f-f-fuck,” he murmurs, eyes closed. The sight has you flushing again. “I’m gonna eat that cunt whole if it’s the last thing I do. Gonna put you in my lap and bounce you on my cock until you beg me to let you –,”

“Come.” You command, sanity finally snapping as you use the same voice to scold rowdy students at the academy or talkative agents in a presentation. It’s forceful, direct, and you are hoping that it throws him off enough to do exactly that. Come, so you win fair and square. Because that means you can finally come too. 

It works.

Or it nearly does. 

Javier’s spine goes rigid, hips still, his soaked fingertips hovering inches from his wet lips. His eyes snap open and oh, shit, you’ve done it now, you’ve really done it now. His once blissed out face contorts into that scowl of primal determination that only comes down for raids. For meetings with sketchy CIs. Moments when lives are at stake. 

“What did you just say to me?” The growl is more gnarled wolf than human. You immediately back up as far as the car will allow, the front of your pants still undone. 

“Javi, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry –,” By his expression, you half-expect him to throw open the door, storm around to your side, yank you to your feet and start fucking you against the car window. Your cunt is throwing a fucking riot at this point. She’s so pissed at you, she’s squeezing so tightly, you think she’ll suck the air right out of you. “I wasn’t thinking – i-i-it just slipped out –,” 

He unbuttons two more of his buttons on his shirt and you think, deliriously, he’s going to take his shirt off, but no, he’s just letting more heat escape. More steam rise from his sweaty back. He seems to grow, fill out, until he takes up the entire front seat of the car. 

“Please, please, don’t make me come, Javi.” You cry, shrinking back as far as you can. You might actually die from this. From him or a lack thereof. Either way, Javier Peña is going to destroy you. 

“I should leave you alone, you know.” He growls. “I should just leave you there to fucking drool into your jeans, smart little cunt knotted up so tight, I could breath on you and make you come. The kind of shit you pulled tonight, you fucking deserve to suffer. But I’m not going to do that and you know why?”

Without warning, his hand snatches around your wrist, yanking you up against the center console. He’s right, you’re so fucking close, the movement rubs you wrong and you squeak again.

Slowly, with superhuman restraint, his nose delicately strokes the underside of your jaw by your ear, then down your neck, as if inhaling the goosebumps that burst out across your skin. You shudder. “J-J-Javi, p-p-please –,” 

His other hand slides back up under your shirt, his fingers slotting in between your ribs, your back as arched as it can go. He feels you breath shakily and he closes his eyes. His next words are so soft, spoken so close to your cheek, you can feel the hairs there vibrate with the frequency of his voice.

“I’m not going to do that because I want you to know exactly what the fuck has the secretaries in a goddamn hissy fit over. I want you to think of me and me only every time you try to open your legs for anyone else. I want you to cry in frustration every time you can’t make yourself come with just your fingers because they’re not mine – they’re nowhere close to mine – and I want you to scream in frustration when I don’t pick up the phone. After tonight, I’m going to ruin you for everyone else.” 

He pauses, as if expecting an answer, but he couldn’t possibly think you are capable of responding, of dredging actual human thought up out of the murk he held you under. His lips drag gently over the arc of your cheek as he leans into your ear. His voice rumbles and you whine, embarrassed, at the sound alone.

“Because that’s what you’ve done to me.” 

No, no, that can’t possibly be right – it’s a trick. It’s a trap. It’s a lie. Javier Peña can’t actually be –

And then, in that same, slow timbre of voice, Javi says,

“I’m gonna finger-fuck you now, okay?”

Any chance of fighting back, of arguing still, is obliterated when his hand shoots back down between your thighs, surges past your underwear, and hooks his fingers up inside you again. This time it’s fast, he’s not waiting for you to gather your sense, he’s going to split you open, here in this fucking Pontiac. 

The force of his thrusts make your spine turn to ooze and you drop forward onto his shoulder. 

Fine. It’s fine. You’ll fucking lose. Who cares about your precious pride?

You don’t realize you’re whimpering in time with his fingers until you try to say his name. He cups the back of your head, reverently, as he spews more filth into your ear. As if the lewd noises he’s evoking from your pussy isn’t enough. 

“I’m going to take care of you, you little sweet cunt. I’m going to take care of you the way no one else has. That’s right, that’s a good little pussy, squealing for me. Hmm, tell me, does she like this?”

His thumb merely brushes your clit, the lone survivor in all of this, and your hips jolt in his hand. He holds you steady against his shoulder. Your fingernails dig into his bicep. 

“Oh, yeah, she does. Of course, she does. I can do that for as long as you like, alright?”

That white heat curls your body inwards, tearing your mouth open, and sending your eyes to the back of your head. “JaviJaviJaviJavi – please –,”

He tsks into your ear. “You keep saying that but you never tell me what you’re begging for.” 

It’s coming. It’s staggering. It eclipses everything and it’s just out of reach. You feel it start to expand and after all this time, it’s actually a fucking relief to give yourself over. To let yourself be rent asunder by something this huge and overwhelming. 

His fingers, the ones not rocketing you towards the biggest orgasm of your life, gently wind up into your hair, sweetly caressing the soft skin behind your earlobe. His voice is quiet, coaxing, kind. His lips almost kiss the ridges of your ear. 

“It’s okay, baby. I’ll tell you what to say. Say, Javi, I want you to make me come.” 

“Javi, I–,”

There’s an explosion.

No, not like that. He’s not that good.

It’s a literal explosion in the street, with flashes of flames and heat that rattle the car. Alarms go off, your vision goes white – because of a pipe bomb stationed out underneath a car parked outside the part-time gambling den, part-time brothel. Javi’s arm flings out in front of you as the car is rocked from the impact. Flames lick the charred out husk of the front of the building. Only when your ears stop ringing, do you finally hear the screaming. 

And then patter of bullets. 

“Baby, get your gun and stay low!” He roars, as the windshield of the car behind you shatters, the popping of gunfire echoing the distance. He lunges back and grabs his jacket, fumbling for his gun. The panic in his voice shakes you awake and you dig into the glove box for your own handheld. 

It’s a firefight for your lives, in the middle of the rain, in the middle of chaos and smoke. 

It’s time to go to work. 

🤍Part 2

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Breathe ~ the Doctor (part 5)

A/n: I should be doing requests... I’m sorry... I just really love Doctor Who and my only other option is to watch the show where I’m at in my rewatch rather than where I’m at in this fan fiction, and I just got to the episode where Ten becomes Eleven and I’m... not ready man. Dang it.

Word Count:11,000+

MASTERLIST

When the Doctor and Rose cornered Y/n with Mickey completely out of sight, Y/n knew this was another intervention. The last time they'd done this was when they'd asked him to stop killing himself to save others. A bit hypocritical coming from the Doctor, but understandable as well. Watching one of the people you love die is bad enough once, but multiple times? Yeah no.

This time, they all knew it was different without having to say anything.

Y/n had gotten rather good at steering the TARDIS. Recently the Doctor had been letting him do it on his own to give him the experience, which had given The Doctor more time to spend with Rose. Mickey had been glued to Y/n's side because of this, trying to avoid watching his ex be with someone else. His ex, who he still loved. It was getting awkward if they were all being honest. The Doctor and Rose had stepped away from each other a lot, and it was obvious it was rather unpleasant for both of them. Instead of sitting back and teasing Y/n or recounting adventures or dreaming up possible news ones, inches apart with the Doctor's arm around Rose's shoulders, now they just talked about things from a bit of distance, with much less enthusiasm and flirting. Y/n avoided the awkwardness by distracting Mickey and driving the TARDIS. In fact, he'd learned to ignore a lot of things he didn't want to acknowledge by driving the TARDIS.

Like now. Rose and the Doctor looked at him, arms folded and faces serious, as Y/n overly focused on driving the TARDIS. Finally Rose sighed, stepping closer. "Where do you guys want to go now? I think I have the hang of this for real this time! No accidents." He waited for them to take the ease poke fun, but when they didn't he pushed on hurriedly. "I love the ocean don't get me wrong, but an ocean on another planet? Not great to open the doors on, but fun to explore. We were just lucky there was that ship there." He chuckled, but it fell short again when the other two didn't laugh. He sighed, stopping. "What is it?" He amusement had fallen, his anxiety rising.

"A while ago when we were at that school with the-"

"Weird bat people who wanted to be gods so they could fix the universe?" Y/n offered.

"Yeah," Rose agreed. A smile slipped through for a second until she swallowed it. "Brother whatever his name was - Mr. Finch. He said... he said you had memories that weren't yours."

Y/n forced a chuckle. "That was a while ago, Rosey, why are we talking about it now?"

Rose shot the Doctor a look. "Someone wanted to ignore it as much as you do. But I think we need to talk about this, because secrets are making things difficult and talking about things going on is important. Especially if it includes other people."

Y/n sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know what you could mean."

The Doctor piped up then. "Gallifrey." Y/n jerked, his knuckles going white as he gripped the control panel. "Did I ever tell you about what it was like there?" Y/n didn't respond, so the Doctor continued. "It was different than your Earth, obviously. But not just different like we've seen in places like Earth - it was really different. It was breathtaking. There were two suns there, and silver leaves that glowed when the light touched them." His voice was almost reverent, and Y/n felt his chest hurt as the image came to his mind so clearly. "The sky was the same though. A beautiful blue-"

"Blue?" Y/n looked up at him with confusion, and immediately realized his mistake. When the two men locked eyes, there was pain mirrored in both.

"What color was it really?" Rose asked softly. She knew. Y/n knew she knew. He realized only too quickly how this had been planned out, so clear and easy, to drag the truth out of Y/n in a way that he could never deny.

Giving in, Y/n looked up at the TARDIS, as if seeing the sky in person. "Orange. This glorious burnt orange. Made the leaves on the trees... glow." His voice caught and he shot up a hand to his face to wipe away a tear. "The day it was actually on fire..." He closed his eyes. "It's so clear in my mind, that day. I wasn't even there." His hands shot to cover his face, his fingers threading through his hair and pulling lightly on the roots. "God I can hear it. I can hear the music and the wind and the laughter and voices. I can feel the sunshine on my skin, Doctor." His hands dropped, head falling forward. "It's so heavy."

The Doctor moved closer, hands resting on either side of Y/n's face. "I can take it away if you want."

"No." Y/n ripped away, leaning back. "I was given this for a reason. I see so much now. I understand so much more. It hurts, but why would you ever let that pain go? It makes you stronger. It teaches you things that make you understand more. I can see things when I look at people who are nothing like me. I can understand a pain I would never have been able to experience on my own, and through that pain I have learned mercy that I should be incapable of. That I would have always been incapable of." He had been looking at the Doctor while he spoke, but now he looked away again, bashful. "There's something special about having the memories of lives you never lived, as a human. You've always said we're special, Doctor. Us humans. I think it's nice, to have the mind closest to a god one can get, while still having the heart of a human."

It was quiet for a long time until Rose moved closer to Y/n, raising her hand to wrap around the back of his neck. She kissed his forehead. "What a trio we are, eh? The human, the alien, and the one who's a little combination of both." She nudged Y/n and they both chuckled.

Y/n looked at the Doctor. "I'm sorry. I know... it's something I wished you had given to me, if I had to be given it at all. I don't know why I got them at all, but I feel like its a super invasion of privacy and-"

"You remember everything?" Was all he asked.

Y/n swallowed. "Every single detail of your life until the whole Bad Wolf thing."

The Doctor moved rather suddenly, forcing Rose to move backward as he grabbed Y/n's face and kissed him. Suddenly Y/n's mind exploded with memories, both his own and the Doctor's. He saw himself tripping over himself as he ran through an empty street, too young to be on his own but in that situation anyway. Not sure where to go or what to do, but knowing that he couldn't stop running. A little older and running again, but this time in different clothes, a small dog at his side. Laughter rang through the dark street that was teasing a sun rise. Suddenly he was much younger and making his parents breakfast because they'd had a rough night and were both super hung over; the left side of his face still hurt, and his body was tired from the rough sleep he'd barely gotten. Older again, leaning against a wall, near a fire contained in a trashcan, as a pretty blonde girl approached him with wide eyes full of worry. A few months later, as they sat at the edge of a pond, talking and laughing. She had brought him food and was complaining about how lame school was, until he told her how behind school he was. The months that came after with her teaming up with tutors to teach him all the important things he'd missed, giving him a place to stay and a job where she worked by vouching for him. Celebrating his eighteenth birthday with her by his side, and realizing that night that he was in love with her because seeing her at the side of someone else made his blood boil. More recent things, right before the Doctor had met them, where Y/n rolled his eyes and had sass offs with Mickey, who could never quite keep up with him. Things that happened so incredibly long ago, from the days that were fuzzy but distantly warm, before his parents took the road that lead them to destruction. Days that were freezing cold as he clung to the clothes he had in some attempt to keep warm. Running for his life when he got caught stealing. Learning how to do it better over time. Dodging police and orphanages for years. The few times he'd been caught, and had a small reprieve of shelter and promised food and clothes before he had to leave the orphanage, or his short stay in juvey ended.

When the two men leaned away from each other, Y/n was crying. The Doctor rested his forehead on Y/n's, pulling him close. They didn't say anything for a long time. Rose reached out and placed her hand on Y/n's shoulder, and he pulled her in to make it a hug with her sandwiched between them. The two men squeezed until Rose was half giggling and half screaming at them and only then did they let her go.

"So," Y/n sighed, shifting gears. "Where do you guys wanna go next?"

This is where the Doctor took charge. "I have an idea. Here, help me - pull that thing over there."

Y/n and the Doctor zipped around. It was so much easier with help - Y/n didn't know how the Timelord had done it all these years. Even now it was chaotic... they landed fine enough though, and soon Mickey was joining them in the control room and Y/n felt guilty for having forgotten to go and get him when the conversation had shifted. He needed to be better to the man - being around your ex and her new boyfriends was bad enough, but the others were accidentally sending signals that Mickey wasn't wanted and it was an extra sting the boy didn't need.

Making a promise silently to himself, Y/n moved to Mickey's side when the TARDIS landed. "First time out and about with the Doctor is always a little bit of a shock. You won't have it so bad since you've gotten a taste of it before, but still. Having aliens come to you is a lot different than you coming to them, so brace yourself."

Mickey puffed up his chest and Y/n swallowed the urge to roll his eyes. "I'll be fine, but thanks for the concern, Captain." They all went outside, and Y/n kept an eye on Mickey as the man took in his first non-Earth alien experience. "It's a spaceship," Mickey squeaked, and Y/n tried to make his grin less teasing and more excited. He was after all rather enthusiastic to go wandering in unknown territory. "Brilliant! I got a spaceship on my first go."

Rose was less excited. "Looks kind of abandoned. Anyone on board?" Y/n realized that she was concerned for the people who should be here, and Y/n found his heart swelling. What a good woman.

"Nah. nothing here," the Doctor answered. He made a weird face then corrected, "Well, nothing dangerous." Y/n rose an eyebrow. "Well, not that dangerous." Y/n scoffed in amusement, shaking his head. This man... "You know what, I'll just have a quick scan. In case there's anything dangerous."

That reminded Y/n of Jack Harkness, back in the days before the man who the Doctor was now. When they'd first met the infamous Captain Jack, and Rose had teased about how official he was with his scanning for alien tech. That made him sad to think about though. Jack had died the day Y/n had. He wondered what things would be like if Jack had been brought back with him. Someone to lift this burden off of his shoulders. The fear of forever, where nothing ever lasts long enough. In the span of eternity, it would be nice to have a friend who could be by your side through it all.

The others talked as the lights came on but Y/n began to walk away from them, taking in all the new things and searching the Doctor's memory to see if he knew what this was. To his surprise, he didn't. Y/n turned back, moving to the others once again. "This feels wrong," he said.

The Doctor nodded. "Honestly, had some cowboys in here. Been a ton of repair work going on." He dropped a piece of equipment, using his now free hand to point at a screen. "Now if you really want to talk about odd, look at that. All the warp engines are going." His eyebrows came together. "Full capacity." He planted a hand on the desk, leaning on it, his other hand going to his waist. "That's enough power running through the ship to punch a hole in the universe..." He looked up.

"But we're not moving," Y/n pointed out. Suddenly there was something in the back of his mind, poking at him. It was a small bother, as if someone tiny was trying to get his attention at the corner of his vision. He couldn't quite put a finger on it though.

Nodding, the Doctor looked at Y/n. Finally they saw each other for what they both were. No secrets. What sat in Y/n's eyes still scared the Timelord, but it was a relief too. Maybe Y/n would understand him, as much as a human could understand. "The question is then, where's all that power going?"

"Where'd all the crew go?" Rose piped up, reminding the others in the room once again that there was no one on board a ship. One that they all now knew was at full thrusters and should be shooting through reality itself, but was standing still anyway.

"Good question," the Doctor complimented. "No life readings on board." He began to mess with the controls.

Rose sighed. "Well we're in deep space. They didn't just nip out for a quick smoke."

"Nope," the Doctor agreed. "I've checked all the smoking pods."

Y/n reached over, placing his hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "Doctor..." It had just clicked what had been bothering him. "That smell?"

Everyone took a good whiff. "Smells like someone's cooking." Rose placed her hands on her hips, looking like she was about to tell someone off for having fire indoors.

"Sunday roast, definitely," Mickey agreed.

Hitting a button in his fiddling, the Doctor hit a switch that opened a panel behind them. They turned and began walking into a new room. One that had... a fireplace. Odd. "Well." The Doctor slipped his hands in his pockets. "That's not something you see on your average spaceship." Y/n got excited, finally able to learn and explore, and took off to get a closer look. It seemed he had done so at the exact same second the Doctor had so they were side by side as the Doctor continued, "18th century French. Nice mantle." He took out his sonic screwdriver as Y/n ran his hands along the wood, feeling the detail and leaning close to get a good look.

"It's beautiful workmanship," Y/n whispered, in awe.

"Not a hologram either," the Doctor tagged on, after checking the thing with his screwdriver then slipping the tool back into his coat.

Something dawned on Y/n and his eyes widened. "And this isn't a replica, is it?" He looked at the Doctor, eyebrows raised.

"No," the Doctor agreed. "This is actually an 18th-century French fireplace."

Y/n narrowed his eyes. "Well how is that possible? In so much time passed, the only way this thing is in such good condition is if it was fairly new, or untouched. It would have gotten scuffed or broken, needed replacements in all that time." He jerked. "Could they be time travelers?"

"You know as much as I do," the Doctor answered. And it was true. Time travel wasn't a common thing. It wasn't technology the Timelords had shared with anyone else. It was highly unlikely at best, and even if that was the case, why would someone take a mantle out of time and use it to decorate a ship? There were better and far more easily accessed things. There was a second of silence as the two men searched for clues until the Doctor drew in a sharp breath. "It's double-sided. There's another room through there."

"It can't be," Rose contradicted as the Doctor kneeled down. Y/n followed him and the two leaned against each other to make room for both of them. "That's the outer hull of the ship," Rose continued. She was looking out a window. "Look." At her command, Mickey moved closer to her to inspect.

Suddenly, there was a child on the other side of the fireplace. The Doctor smiled. "Hello."

"Hello?" the small girl replied, obviously unsure. Y/n waved politely. She nodded in return.

"What's your name?" the Doctor asked.

"Reinette," the girl responded. Y/n was surprised by the child's willingness to share infomration. It was rather helpful, but still dangerous since she didn't know them.

"Reinette," the Doctor smiled. "That's a lovely name. Can you tell me where you are at the moment, Reinette?" Mickey and Rose crouched between Y/n and the Doctor, trying to see what was going on. Rose gasped quietly.

That seemed to confuse the girl. "In my bedroom?" she offered slowly.

"And where's your bedroom?" the Doctor clarified. "Where do you live, Reinette?"

"Paris of course," Reinette responded, shaking her head slightly. Y/n wanted to say somethingm but the Doctor had it handled and the child was probably a little overwhelmed with a bunch of strange people looking at her. Having more than one of them talk to her at a time might be overwhelming and could scare her off.

"Paris, right." The Doctor grinned, shaking his head, playing off that he was just silly or confused and not the truth, which was much harder to explain.

The girl seemed to have questions of her own. "Monsieur, what are you doing in my fireplace?"

"Oh it's just a routine... fire check," the Doctor lied on the fly. Y/n shook his head, trying to hide his smile. "Can you tell me what year it is?" the Doctor asked quickly, trying to cover up the obvious lie. "Can you tell me what year it is?"

"Of course I can," Reinette answered. She smiled, amused by the funny man in her fireplace. "1727."

Well that explained the fireplace. At least, where they got it. "Right, lovely, one of my favorites."

"You say that for every time," Y/n finally spoke up. "They're all your favorite."

"Well, yeah," the Doctor relented. "I will say, August of this year though is a bit rubbish, though. Stay indoors." He perked up. "Okay. That's all for now. Thanks for your help. Hope you enjoy the rest of the fire. Night night."

"Goodnight, Monsieur," was all Reinette said in reply. They all stood, facing each other away from the fireplace.

"You said this was the 51st-century," Micky reminded rather bitterly.

"I also said the ship was generating enough energy to punch a hole in the universe," the Doctor shot back immediately. "I think we just found the hole." They all looked back at the fireplace. "Must be a spatio-temporal hyperlink," he continued to himself.

"What's that?" Mickey asked.

"He made it up," Y/n scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"I didn't want to say magic door," the Doctor complained in response.

Rose tried a go at this whole thing. "And on the other side of the "magic door" it's France in 1727?"

"Well." the Doctor tilted his head. "She was speaking French. Right period French, too."

"No, she was speaking English. I heard her." Mickey's eyebrows were so pushed together his confusion seemed to turn to anger.

"No the TARDIS translates languages so wherever we go, we understand what everyone is saying," Rose explained eagerly, always happy to have her turn knowing what's going on. Her excitement was cute. They were a clever bunch, them. Well not Mickey, but the rest of them.

That was a rude thought. Perhaps the Doctor was rubbing off on Y/n a little more than he'd thought.

"Even French?" Mickey asked.

Y/n replied, "Obviously," at the same time that Rose gave a much kinder, more patient response of, "Yep." She nudged him and he smiled, playing innocent. They began migrating back toward the mantle, and Y/n crouched down, looking through the fire. Rose and Mickey were stepped back as Mickey tried to process the TARDIS when suddenly the floor began to move.

The Doctor had found a lever, and with victory, he pulled it. "Gotchya!" That's what made the floor move, as like a false bookcase in a murder mystery story, the whole thing spun so they were on the other side of the mantle, in the room where Reinette had been. Except... they didn't mean Mickey and Rose, because they'd been too far. Only by coincidence had Y/n managed to be close enough that when the thing turned, he had gone with the Doctor.

Y/n stood, eyes wide as he looked around the room with awe. He went to say something, but then his eyes landed on Reinette, who was asleep in bed. She looked sound asleep too, despite being wide awake and moving around and talking just seconds ago. Y/n and the Doctor exchanged wide looks. They both slowly moved further into the room, the Doctor going to the window to look outside and Y/n moving around to inspect the make of the room and attempt to take a peak outside the door into the hallway.

Attempt was the word, because before he could actually do it, Reinette awoke with a gasp, sitting up in bed with wide eyes. The Doctor rushed to calm her. "It's okay! Don't scream. It's me. It's fireplace man." Y/n shot him a look, but it seemed to work. Did this child have no survival instincts at all? Two grown, strange men creeping around her bedroom at night while she slept and she's calm the second she sees the Doctor?

Well, actually, that made sense. There was a sense that one could always trust the Doctor. The same went for Y/n, but for different reasons. The Doctor was the kind of person you hid behind and trusted to run out into battle and protect you. Even if he wasn't by your side, you knew you were safe. Y/n was the kind of person who never left your side. He held your hand and comforted you and gave the sense that he would take a bullet for you while holding you in his arms, his back to the danger and you completely safe from it. Together they were quite calming. The Doctor knew what he was doing, and nothing could stop him from figuring it out and destroying it. Y/n knew less, but was far more ready to put himself in harm's way, and nothing would ever get to you as long as he was there to stand in danger's way.

The Doctor moved to the candle on Reinette's dresser, using his sonic screwdriver to light the candle and cast light in the room so the girl in bed could see him. Her eyes moved from him quickly though to Y/n. "And his friend," she told herself. It didn't seem to e something she meant to say aloud.

"Yes." the Doctor began to change, becoming softer and warmer. It was something he did only for children. It showed that huge, soft heart of his he tried to protect - even from Rose who couldn't always see through his guise because she didn't know what Y/n did. Children had always made him like this. More human. Less logical and curious and detached and more emotional. Closer. Y/n tried not to think about the time that had been most true, with his own children. How that had become so painful for him after they were gone, but how it had never gone away because he just couldn't help himself. The Doctor spoke again, knocking Y/n out of his thoughts. "We were talking, the three of us, just a moment ago. We were in your fireplace."

The girl shook her head. "Monsieur, that was weeks ago. That was months."

The Doctor looked at Y/n, who was just as surprised. Hadn't it been just seconds ago for them? "Really?" the brunette asked as he turned back to the child. He rose a hand to tug on his ear - a tell that he was caught off guard and uncomfortable. He really was a terrible liar. He turned away from her, going back to the mantle. He kneeled down, knocking on it. "Must be a loose connection. We need to get someone in here."

"Wait Doctor-" Y/n moved closer as well, a startling thought hitting him. "If time passes like that over here, do you think it's just that time is different on either side? I mean, its been seconds since we left Rose and Mickey for us but..."

Before they could brain map that out, or go back, Reinette spoke again. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

The Doctor didn't answer though. He froze a second, and then his eyes slowly drifted back toward the mantle, away from the little girl, landing on the clock. Y/n wasn't sure what he was seeing, but he looked anyway, hoping it would click immediately. "Okay, that's scary," the Doctor muttered.

"You're scared of a broken clock?" Reinette asked with slight sass. Y/n was starting to like this kid.

Amusement didn't seem to be in the cards for the Doctor right now though. With all seriousness he responded, "Just a bit scared, yeah. Just a little tiny bit. Cause you see, if this clock's broken, and it's the only clock in the room..." He looked around to affirm and Y/n followed his gaze.

And that was when he heard it. He looked back at the clock on the mantle to be sure, and saw the hands were still, frozen in place. But if that was the case... "What's making that ticking noise?" It was half a question, and half a resolution as he realized what path the Doctor had gone down.

"Definitely not a clock," the Doctor provided like an answer, even though it was phrased as if continuing a sentence that Y/n had just supplied a part of. "You can tell by the resonance. Too big." He began walking away from the mantle and Y/n stayed close. Not to hide behind the Doctor as most people were happy to do, but because he was making sure the Doctor was okay - just as he always stayed close to keep people safe. "Six feet I'd say," the Doctor continued. "The size of a man."

"What is it?" Reinette asked, beginning to grow panicked.

The Doctor began to move to one side of the bed, nodding Y/n to go the other way. Only then did the men part. "Now let's think." the Doctor was all business now, taking control of a situation and figuring out the threat. It calmed Reinette as it did earlier, to see the two men to actually be who they seemed to be. Without the Doctor to watch, Y/n moved closer to Reinette, looking around the room, his body coiled to fight if necessary. "If you were a thing that ticked and you were hiding in someone's bedroom, first thing you do: break the clock. No one notices the sound of one clock ticking, but two?" He hesitated a while and Y/n felt a chill in his spine. "You might start to wonder if you were really alone. He began to kneel, looking under the bed, and Y/n moved to block the other side. The thing still might escape at the end, but the less places it had to go, the better. Y/n stayed on his feet, still ready to run or tackle something if he had to. "Stay in the middle of the bed," the Doctor instructed Reinette. "Hands and feet close by."

The Doctor looked under the bed. There was the soft whirring of the sonic screwdriver, and long silence that held far too much tension.

Suddenly, a hand shot out and the trio jumped, eyes going wide. Y/n watched the Doctor to make sure he was okay, still planted in place if the thing tried to run.

Unfortunately, the thing did run, but it moved incredibly fast. It was out from under the bed and standing next to Y/n within seconds, and all Y/n could do was stand there as the thing wrapped a hand around his throat. He went stiff, eyes wide. The Doctor moved slowly from being on the ground to raising from the floor at a snail's pace, eyes trained on the thing that was currently holding Y/n in a very compromising position.

"Reinette," the Doctor whispered softly, looking at the small girl who was facing him instead of the thing that had Y/n. "Don't look round." As she had been all night, the girl was obedient. "You." The Doctor's voice had changed as he directed the thing holding Y/n. "Stay exactly where you are. Unless of course you could be so kind as to let my partner there go." His words were polite, but his tone was dark. He was not asking. If anything, his words were a threat. The thing didn't move, either to let Y/n go or to hurt him, so the Doctor hesitated, looking at Reinette again. His face changed and he kneeled down again, but this time to grab Reinette's face with both of his hands. Y/n knew what he was doing, and he relaxed. As much as Reinette was fine with sitting there and listening to every word the Doctor told her, Y/n was the same. Both of them trusted the Doctor completely, and if he didn't think Y/n was in any real danger enough to address it, he wasn't.

"What is it?" Y/n asked softly, taking in the expression of the man now looking at Reinette like she had an arm attached to the side of her head.

"You've been scanning her brain." It was an answer, but mostly an accusation, and it was targeted at the clockwork man holding Y/n. "You've crossed two galaxies and thousands of years just to scan a child's brain? What could there be in a little girl's mind worth blowing a hole in the universe?" He let Reinette go, standing tall again.

"You've done it now," Y/n mumbled, finding himself grinning.

"I don't understand." Reinette hadn't spoken in a while, but in all that time she hadn't lost much worry, even if her fear was satiated. She was safe while the Doctor was here, but why did she need his protection at all? She turned now, looking at the clockwork thing. "You want me?"

The clockwork man looked at her - the first time it had shown any sign of thought since moving out from under the bed. In a robotic drawl, it answered. "Not yet. You are incomplete." Its hands tightened around Y/n's throat and his eyes fluttered closed as he took in his a labored breath to feed his brain air as much he could.

"Let him go!" Reinette screamed. Unlike when the Doctor had threatened the automaton immediately let go of Y/n, who dropped to his knees, gasping.

"Are you okay, Y/n?" the Doctor asked.

"I'm fine," Y/n rasped, not moving from his spot on the floor. "Keep that brain of yours working, that's what we need right now."

The Doctor hesitated, but obliged. His eyes moved to the automaton. "You said she was incomplete. What does that mean?" The thing didn't respond, and the Doctor got irritated. "You can answer her, you can answer me," he demanded. "What do you mean, incomplete?" He brought up his screwdriver and the thing responded, but not how it had been asked to. Instead, it moved around Y/n on the floor and to the other side of the bed, raising its own arm and extending a blade to press against the Doctor's throat just as threateningly.

"Monsieur be careful!" Reinette begged, worry in her eyes.

"It's just a nightmare, Reinette," the Doctor assured. "Don't worry about it."

Y/n forced himself to his feet. "Doctor," he croaked, afraid to move and startle the thing, but feeling his stress rise at seeing the Doctor in danger. Why couldn't the thing just stay focused on him? Y/n couldn't die. "What you said before, about how it can answer you if it answers her. I mean... she's supposed to be here, we aren't. What if it's not supposed to answer anyone but her?"

The Doctor's eyes widened. That could have been from the way the mechanic thing swung at him though. Y/n surged forward as the Doctor skidded back, the mechanic man following his path. The Doctor kept addressing Reinette, eyes flickering to her as if Y/n hadn't spoken. Y/n realized why when he looked back and noticed her at the edge of her bed, looking ready to cry. "Everyone has nightmares," he told her soothingly. "Even monsters from under the bed have nightmares." he leaned against the mantle, a smirk rising to his face. "Don't you, Monster?" He ducked as the metal weapon swung down at him, missing him and planting firmly in the wood of the mantle instead, sticking and leaving the clockwork machine helpless and unmoving. Y/n met the Doctor, immediately going to check that he was okay.

Reinette interrupted the scene. "What do monsters have nightmares about?" She asked. There was another question in her eyes as she looked between the Doctor and Y/n, but not one she could find words for, so she left it there instead.

The Doctor grinned at that question though, fueled by being able to answer. "Me," he told her as he leaned against the lever that turned the wall again and took the clockwork man, the Doctor, and Y/n all back back over to the ship side of this situation, leaving Reinette in her room alone.

To Y/n's relief, it seemed that neither Rose nor Mickey had moved since they'd been here last. "Doctor!" Rose exclaimed, going to run forward and greet him, but then stopping short when she saw the man clock. The Doctor raced to the side of the room, grabbing one of the guns. Y/n was far out of the way by the time the Timelord turned around, hosing the machine man down with some sort of mist. Y/n realized what had happened when the mist cleared and the clockwork man was silent and still, as if frozen.

"Excellent, ice gun." Mickey looked at the gun with intrigue.

Y/n smirked. "Fire extinguisher actually," he corrected. The Doctor winked, proud of Y/n. He then tossed the gun he was holding to Rose, who caught it and pulled it to her face to take a closer look.

"Where did that thing come from?" Rose asked as she looked at the gun.

"Here." The Doctor slipped his hands into his pockets, his brain racing as usual.

"Why is it dressed like that then?" Mickey seemed to disbelieve as usual.

"Well you can't go around somewhere you don't want to be noticed if you don't blend in," was what Y/n offered.

"Fieldtrip to France," the Doctor followed up. "Some kind of camouflage protocol." He began to walk toward the thing. "Nice needle work. Shame about the face." He pushed the mask off, knocking it to the floor to reveal the actual head of the thing underneath. What was there was a head-shaped clear, plastic shield that rested overtop clockwork, all made of gold. The Doctor's eyes widened and his jaw dropped, and Y/n gasped, moving closer rather quickly. "Oh, you are beautiful!" He took out his glasses to get a better look. "No really, you are. Look at that!" he looked at Y/n, his eyes full of admiration. Y/n's eyes were trained on the clockwork, but he felt the Doctor's gaze and nodded in silent awe. "Space age clockwork. I love it. I've got chills! Listen, seriously, I mean this from the heart - and by the way, count those - it would be a crime, it would be an act of vandalism, to disassemble you..."

Y/n snorted. "Since when has that ever stopped you?"

The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver. "Not even once," he admitted. "And it won't stop me now." There was a split second, as if the thing was realizing how dangerous the Doctor was, and then it split into lots of pieces and was sucked up and away. "Short range teleport, can't have gone far. Could still be on board," the Doctor explained as he turned away, back to the mantle. "

"What is it?" Rose demanded.

"Don't go looking for it!" was all the Doctor offered in response. Y/n knew it was because the Timelord had no idea, and he hated to admit that most of the time.

"Well where are you going?" Rose shot back.

"Can I come with you?" Y/n asked, realizing the Doctor was headed back to Reinette's room.

The Doctor shook his head. "I need you to keep an eye on these two. We both know how far what I tell them to do goes." Then he hit the lever and the wall turned and he was gone.

There was only a second before Rose was ready to go off and do exactly what she'd been told not to, just as the Doctor predicted. "He said not to go look for it," Mickey reminded.

Y/n turned around, his face stern, to see Rose grinning smugly. "Yeah, he did." She looked at Y/n, daring him to stop her.

He always did as the Doctor asked, as he did now, and she knew it. "Come on Rose, it's dangerous and we have no idea what we're up a-" He had been walking toward her to stop her, but when he got close enough she grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him down into a rather heated kiss. She leaned away too soon for Y/n to be satisfied, leaving him reeling instead.

"You were saying?" As she winked at Y/n, Mickey grabbed another one of the guns off of where the Doctor grabbed the first one, and returned to Rose. "Now you've got it," she complimented. Then she turned around and began trekking down the hall and Y/n was completely helpless to stop her.

"Wait!" He squeaked, trying to orient himself. But it was too late, and he groaned before jogging after them. Why was it always up to him to keep them in check? They never listened anyway!

Mickey went the fast way, zooming past all the important stuff as he tried to look cool with his rolls and tiptoeing. Rose followed after him, looking around corners at least and walking normally, keeping an eye out for danger. Y/n dragged at last, paying attention to everything he could without being slow enough for Rose to get out of his sight. At one point Mickey made some sound of alarm and the other two moved to him. "Look at this," he told them. "That's an eye in there. That's a real eye."

And, unfortunately, he was right. In some sort of camera, where the lense would be was what looked to be just a human eye. Something or the sort at least - it seemed to be close to human in structure. Y/n moved closer and the thing zipped away.

"That's not good," Y/n said softly. "Ships don't have eyes attached to things that should be mechanic - living parts and machinery don't mix."

Rose caught his attention again by opening a hatch lower down the wall and leaning down. Mickey leaned down with her, peering into the hole behind the hatch. "What is that? There in the middle, it looks like it's wired in." Y/n couldn't see cause there was no room to get a vantage point, so he stayed back.

Rose answered for him. "It's a heart, Mickey. It's a human heart." They leaned away, and Rose looked at Y/n. "You've never seen anything like this before? Or the Doctor?"

Y/n's expression was grim as he looked around the ship, feeling his stomach turn as he began to put something together he didn't like. "No. Like I said, organic matter and machinery have never combined well. The metal bits would get too hot eventually and..." he swallowed, turning away. "Never mind. If you two are set on wandering around, we shall continue with that." And without another word he surged forward, hands in pockets and refusing to answer.

Rose tried to pressure him but after a while of not a single word for him, the trip grew silent. Until Mickey spoke up again. "Maybe it wasn't a real heart." Safely out of sight, Y/n allowed himself to roll his eyes.

"Of course it was a real heart." That cake from Rose, and she sounded as irritated as Y/n felt.

Mickey didn't seem to like that. Neither did Y/n, but one didn't deal with things they liked by ignoring them or trying to push them away or deny their existence. You had to accept the bad things as reality in order to conquer them. "Is this normal for you guys? Is this an average day?"

"Not this specifically," Y/n answered softly.

"There aren't really average days for anything though," Rose added. "Not with the Doctor. You don't ever really adjust to this stuff."

Y/n reached what seemed to be a window into a room that looked like it came from Reinette's time. He leaned closer, trying to look in. Rose and Mickey caught up with him. "It's France again. We can see France." Y/n glared And tried not to aim it at Mickey. If the man made one more obvious statement Y/n might implode.

"I think we're looking in a mirror." Rose seemed to be handling this better than Y/n, though not by much.

Some people walked in and Y/n watched, trying to read their lips. That wasn't one of the things he knew though, even with the odd things he'd accidentally picked up from the Doctor - like sticking his hands in his pockets when he didn't know what to do with them. "Who's this guy?" Mickey scoffed as they watched.

"The king of France." Y/n was surprised to hear the Doctor's voice, but relieved too.

"Oh," Rose drawled teasingly. "Here's trouble. What have you been up to?"

"This and that," was all they got. "Became the imaginary friend of a future French aristocrat. Got in a fight with a clockwork man - Reinette asked where you were by the way, Y/n."

"Take me next time then," Y/n shot jokingly.

"Might as well, you obviously can't keep these two where they're supposed to be like I asked," the Doctor shot back.

"Since when has anything been able to stop Rose Tyler?" Y/n defended himself.

That made the Doctor smile. "Fair point." there was suddenly a neigh from a horse as the white animal turned the corner. "Did I mention I made friends with a horse?"

Once again Mickey came in with the worst question. "What's a horse doing on a spaceship?"

The Doctor came back with irritation that made Y/n feel pleased. "Mickey, what's pre-revolutionary France doing on a spaceship? Get a little perspective." Y/n snorted. "See these?" He pointed to the mirror, turning attention to that instead so Mickey has to room to reply back. "They're all over the spaceship, on every deck. Gateways to history." A woman walked in the room, and Y/n tilted his head. She seemed familiar somehow. "But not just any old history," the Doctor continued. "Hers."

That's when it clicked. "That's Reinette?" Y/n asked in surprise. The Doctor nodded. He had a soft look in his eyes that made Y/n raise his eyebrows. The brunette felt the other's man gaze and turned to look, only to look away again very quickly when Y/n smirked. He was about to tease when the Doctor continued, a little more awkward this time.

"A time window. Deliberately arranged along the life of one particular woman. A spaceship from the 51st century stalking a woman from the 18th." He shook his head. "Why?"

"Who is she?" Rose inquired.

"Jean-Antionette Poisson," the Doctor replied. Y/n rose his eyebrows. French Mamés were so fancy. "Known to her friends as Reinette. One of the most accomplished women who ever lived." So that's why he was so into her.

"So she's got plans to be the Queen then?" Rose asked next, watching the way Reinette smiled at the King.

"No he's already got a Queen," the Doctor told her. "She's got plans of being his mistress."

Y/n's eyes went wide. "I'm worry, are we talking about- oh my stupid human brain, we're talking about THE Madame de Pompadour?" Y/n hissed, his eyebrows coming together in surprise.

The Doctor grinned. "Only and only!"

Y/n snorted. "You're just a man after all," he teased. Rose and Mickey both realized the Doctor's infatuation then too, Rose scowling and Mickey snickering quietly to himself.

The Doctor however, decided to ignore his comment. "I think this is the night they met. The night of the Yew Tree Ball. In no time flat she'll get herself established as his official mistress with her own rooms at the palace, even her own title. Madame de Pompredour, as Y/n so kindly recalled earlier."

Reinette moved toward the mirror, fixing herself, but looking straight at the four people she didn't know were looking back. "Queen must have loved her," Rose snarked quietly. Y/n silently thought that she was rather beautiful - a notice that had probably been what had made Rose think of that in the first place. He noticed the way the blonde looked at Reinette, and then took a peek at the Doctor. Y/n internally sighed. This girl and her jealousy...

"Yeah, they were actually really good friends," the Doctor stated in response to what she'd said.

"The Kong's wife and the Kong's girlfriend?" Mickey scoffed. When he said girlfriend, he looked directly at Y/n, and Y/n felt his anger rise.

"France," the Doctor dismissed. "Different planet." Suddenly he froze, and Y/n looked back through the mirror to see Reinette turning around, facing a man that was looking away from her. The thing turned and-

At the same time the Doctor and Y/n both lurched forward, pushing the mirror so it turned as the wall had at the mantle before, surging into the room as one. At some point he must have grabbed one of the guns because he suddenly hosed the thing down with it, freezing it as he had the one from before. Except this one... was working against that frost.

"Fireplace man," Reinette shouted in surprise. She then saw Y/n and grinned. "And he's brought his friend this time." Y/n tipped his head in greeted and she gave a small courtsey in response.

"What's it doing?" Mickey asked, in reference to the whirring sound coming from the clockwork man.

"Working its gears, trying to heat the ice." The Doctor tossed the gun back to Rose, who it seemed he'd stolen it from in the first place.

"And what happens then?" Mickey continued.

"It kills everyone in the room," the Doctor answered with a frown. Just then the arm of the clockwork man shot forward, hand reaching to choke the Doctor as it had once tried to choke Y/n. The Doctor was expecting it though, and was faster to react, jetting out of the way before it could succeed. "Focuses The mind, doesn't it?" He stared at the machine with authority. "Who are you?" He demanded. "Identify yourself." The thing only tilted its head.

Y/n stepped forward. "Remember before, Doctor? In Reinette's room?"

The Timelord nodded. "Right." He looked at Reinette. "Order it to answer me."

That seemed to confuse her though. "Why should it answer to me?"

"I don't know," he offered honestly. "But it did when you were a child." He looped around, moving to stand behind her, leaning in to whisper into her ear. "Let's see if you've still got it." Y/n smirked to himself. What a damn flirt.

Reinette turned to the living machine. "Answer his question," she ordered. "Answer any and all questions put to you."

The machine lowered its arm. "I am repair droid seven."

"And what happened to the ship?" The Doctor asked. "That's a lot of damage."

Y/n sucked in a breath and for a second, all eyes except the driod's turned to him. He looked at the machine though as it answered, "Ion storm, 82% failure."

"What did you find out, Y/n?" The Doctor pressed. So Y/n stepped forward, hoping he was wrong.

"The ship hasn't moved in a long while, hasn't it?" Y/n asked softly. "It's taken you a while to fix it - why?"

"We did not have the parts," the machine answered.

"You didn't have the parts you needed to fix your ship?" Y/n's voice was beginning to taint with horror, and the others looked at him with pre confusion, unsure as to what he was getting at. "So you're stuck in the middle of nowhere, ship broken down, no way to move, without the parts you need, and you had to do something." Y/n shook his head. "Why here and now? Why Reinette? What are you looking for here?"

"We did not have the parts," was all the machine answered.

So Y/n changed his question. "What part are you looking for?"

"What?" The Doctor couldn't make sense of that question. "They couldn't be looking for any parts here - it wouldnt make any sense at all. What about the crew?"

Again, the machine answered, "We didn't have the parts."

Y/n sighed, closing his eyes. "We found a camera with an eye in it. A heart, wired into the ship." He opened his eyes again, looking at the Doctor. "They didn't have the parts, so they used what was available to them."

The Doctor's eyes widened. "They used the crew." The others gawked, except Y/n who had known since they'd seen everything before. "It's just doing what it was programmed to do. Using whatever it can, wherever it can find it. No one told them the crew wasn't on the menu. What did you say the flight deck smelled of?"

Rose was stunned, her eyes glossing over as she remembered what she'd said then, and how it must have connected in Y/n's mind later. "Someone cooking." Her answer came with detached horror.

"Like I said. Machinery and organic material- they don't mix." Y/n's eyes dropped to the ground.

"Flesh plus heat," the Doctor added on. "Barbecue." A heavy silence fell, but the Doctor had never been good with silences so he didn't let it settle. "But what are you doing- oh!" He looked at Y/n, then back to the machine. "You're here for a part."

"One more part is required," the machine responded in confirmation.

The Doctor's voice dropped. "Why haven't you taken it?"

"She is not complete," the machine responded. Y/n remembered that it said the same thing that night in Reinette's bedroom.

"What so that's the plan then?" The Doctor jerked back in half mocking disbelief. It was a ridiculous plan, to be fair. "Open up more and more time windows and scanning her brain, checking to see if she's done yet?"

Then Rose jumped in with a brilliant question. "Why her?" She asked. "You've got all of history to choose from- why specifically her?"

"I mean The Doctor said it didn't he?" He realized before the machine could respond. "The most successful woman in history. Brilliant, and incredibly accomplished. I mean, the Doctor could probably go on for years about all she's been able to do. Her mind - her brain, the part they need - it's... I mean sorry if this sounds bad, but it's brilliant. They had to choose someone. Why not her?"

The machine looked at Y/n. "We are the same," It agreed.

"The same?" Reinette spat. "We are not the same! We are in no such way the same!" She panicked, and before anyone could stop her she ordered the thing, "Get out of here this instant!" It disappeared and Y/n ran into the ship, looking around the corner. It was gone though. The Doctor yelled something and Rose and Mickey took off running.

Before Y/n could join then the Doctor called, "Y/n, stay with me!" So Y/n turned around and reentered the room with Reinette and the Doctor. He closed the mirror, realizing it was actually a window instead. He left the other two to do their thing as he turned to the wall, looking at the decorations with a close eye. He felt the need to soak it all in, and whatever the Doctor was doing he didn't actually need Y/n's help, otherwise he would have called him over.

He heard their flirting as the Doctor looked into Reinette's mind, and he rolled his eyes at their antics. That was... until Reinette said something that shocked both of the men in the room. "Oh Doctor, such a lonely childhood." Y/n turned. "So, so lonely. Lonely then, and even lonelier now."

"What are you talking about?" The Doctor asked. "You've never been lonely once in your life." Suddenly he jerked back. "Since when did you start calling me Doctor?"

She just looked back at him. "A door once opened can be stepped through in either direction." She stepped up to him. "Oh Doctor. My lonely Doctor." She was so beautiful, and she looked at him with so much love. She'd said he was lonely... only then did Y/n fully understand Rose's jealousy. Was he not enough? "Dance with me," she asked. Y/n turned and moved away, through the window and into the ship, walking back to the flight deck and to the mantle to cool off. He was suddenly angry, and all that ever did was cloud his mind. The Doctor needed him sharp - feelings couldn't get in the way. How could he ever blame anyone for falling in love with the Doctor? Hadn't he done it himself? His eyes found the mantle, and he drifted toward it, pulling the lever. He ended up in Reinette's room. Or... her old room he supposed. He heard footsteps, many footsteps, and ducked behind a curtain.

Unfortunately for him, it seemed to be a very bad time. The room was being emptied, and it seemed that the mantle was going now. Which meant... there was no way back. He peeked our, trying to think, and was immediately spotted. "Y/n." He looked over in surprise to see Reinette of all people. He slipped out, a stiff smile on his face.

"Hello, Reinette."

She seemed to sense his slight disdain. "I'm sorry for that night. I remember - that was the last time I saw you. I saw you two in his head, and I... well, I didn't realize until later when he was leaving. What it meant, and why you left. I'm very sorry." Y/n slipped his hands in his pockets. The other people in the room seemed to hesitate, but then left when the two seemed casual enough. Only one man stood outside the room in order to give them privacy of sort while also making sure Reinette stayed safe. "Have You two had time to talk? I don't know what happens on your dude of things."

Y/n shook his head. "Back there... there's kind of not much time. I mean, where I come from... well it's a bit complicated."

She looked at the mantle, then back. "Do you need to go soon?"

Y/n sighed. "You broke the connection, and I can't fix it from this side. The Doctor will be here soon I'm sure. Until then, if you want to ask, I'm more than happy to answer. I... I think I need some air. Just a bit maybe."

She smiled. "Wonderful."

-

Three years. Y/n did not age, as he had long since stopped doing, but Reinette did. The two became very good friends, and she kept him a secret from other people. They got attached to each other, but even if they hadn't it wouldn't have mattered. For some reason The exists that he knew weren't working. He couldn't figure out how to get back onto the ship. So he waited for the Doctor - the long route, just like everyone else. He had to say, he didn't mind it. Sticking by Reinette's side was kind of refreshing. When he drew a line she knew to withdraw, but otherwise they talked about everything - and they especially bonded over their deep feelings for the Doctor.

Over time, Y/n adjusted to life in France. It was odd, and he tried to stay away from people and out of any news or such as much as he could because it all confused him and he was worried about changing too much, but for the most part it was fine. He became Reinette's footman - a thing that had been a bit of scandal for a while, but nothing too big as it had been written off as her secret brother or cousin or something. It was too clear too soon that they weren't lovers, and that was what mattered.

Even Y/n and the King got along. It was the day that the King had asked for his company riding horses that Y/n returned to a frantic Reinette. "Those friends of yours just turned up and said in five years they're returning. The clockwork men. I..." She slouched in disappointment. "You weren't here. I tried the entrance again after they left, but it was suddenly locked like all the others. I- I'm so sorry Y/n, I forgot to tell them about you. There was so much going on-"

"No worries my lady," Y/n dismissed. "This way I'll be right by your side when those things come. It's the best place to be really." He smiled and after a second, so did she.

And so five more years passed.

It had been eight years without the Doctor, and Y/n had matured a lot. He'd been allowed his own room to breathe. Oddly enough, his memories of the TARDIS never faded and he found himself missing the Doctor and Rose and even Mickey. He had found this sort of life nice and refreshing at first, but it was boring now. He had a lot more skills - horse riding and sword fighting and cooking and baking. He had even picked up carving, and had seen lots of history up close and personal. But it wasn't with the two people he loved the most.

There was something that kept him from going back though. A question that stuck stubbornly in the back of his mind.

Did they miss him at all?

Perhaps that wasn't fair. It had been eight years for him, but probably not even an hour for them. A horrible thought occurred to him at one point. They might not have even noticed he was gone yet at all.

That thought was what made him hesitate.

The day came that the clockwork men returned, and Reinette rushed to her mantle to call for the Doctor. When she stood, she turned to Y/n. "What do I do?"

Y/n pressed his lips together. "As the Doctor asked. He will come Reinette, I swear to you. He doesn't break his word. That's not the kind of man he is. He will save you."

She looked at him, noticing easily his wording as they knew each other too well not to notice such vital things. "Will he not rescue you as well? Take you back and await from here?"

Putting his hands in his pockets - a habit he still had, even after all these years - Y/n looked away from her. "May I ask you something? A favor? Something very important to me?"

"Of course," Reinette agreed earnestly.

"When he comes," Y/n began. "Do not tell him of me. Not unless he asks." Reinette was going to argue, but then seemed to see the importance of the second bit and hesitated only a second before nodding. That was when the mechanical men came for her. They took her, and forced Y/n to stay, holding him at needle point in a threat. Reinette assured him that she'd be okay, because the Doctor would come. So Y/b stayed in the room and listened to the door lock, letting him know he was all alone with no way out until this whole thing was over.

So he sat. And he waited.

Until the door opened again, and he ducked for cover just in case. It was not the clockwork men... it was however, the Doctor, who he was just as eager to hide from.

"It's not a replica," Reinette was saying. "It's the exact same one. I had it moved here, and was stern about it being kept in exact detail." She left out the fact that Y/n had suggested it, which made him realize the Doctor had yet to ask about him.

"The fireplace," the Doctor cooed, smiling at the memories the thing brought up. "When did you do this?"

"Many years ago," Reinette answered. "In a hope that a door once opened may be opened again." Y/n pressed into the wall, wishing he could leave. He didn't want to be here for this. "One never quite knows when one needs ones Doctor. Or his friend."

"I'm sorry that Y/n didn't come with me." Y/n tended against the wall. "He was on the other side when I jumped through. Good thing though - he'll be able to get the other two home. So there's that." Wait what?

Reinette hummed in thought. "They are trapped there without at least one of your there?"

The Doctor paused. "Well, yes..."

Without leaving him room to answer, Reinette pressed on. "The mantle appears undamaged. Do you think it'll still work?"

"You broke the bond with the ship when you moved it," the Doctor told her. "Which means it was off line when the mirror broke- probably what saved it. But..." he suddenly moved to the mantle, taking out his screwdriver. It was a sight for sore eyes, and Y/n couldn't handle it. He slipped away, out of the room and away from the Doctor and the mantle and the woman who had become his best friend.

Reinette joined him after a while. "He's gone again, our Doctor." She sighed. "He said he would back in just a moment but..."

"That's The thing with time windows," Y/n sighed. "Time is a fickle thing. Passes different only one side than the other. Seconds to him..."

"Years to us." Reinette nodded. She hesitated a while then turned to Y/n. "Why did you hide? He didn't ask for you because he thinks you're on the ship."

Y/n watched the stars outside, thinking about a life where he'd never see them again. It was a terrible thought. "At first it was jealousy and insecurity. A stupid thing I suppose, but it was meaningful then. The way he loves even people he's just met. The way he loves, but still feels lonely because he refuses himself any joy, even to allow others to love him. It scared me. That say you said he was lonely... you know he shouldn't have been though. He had me, and Rose."

"She won't be around forever," Reinette pointed out.

"But I will." Y/n's voice was raw. "But that wasn't even really the point... I don't know, I just thought- I thought love was a hard thing, so I avoided it for years. It came slow to me - far slower than most people. As much slow to me as it comes fast to the Doctor. I've loved two people my entire life, and now I'm staring eternity in the face with only the possibility of a happy ending with one. And... he's so strange. He's not human, and he's consumed by this loneliness that makes him so hard on the inside. So far away. No matter how far I reach, he is always out of my grasp. I can know, but I do not understand. It puts things between us. I mean- we'd never do well in this life. This slow life. He rarely ever kisses me, and sometimes he ignores me altogether, because he values knowledge above all else and is terrified of love, as much as I used to be." He looked at Reinette again. "What if I'm not meant to be with them? People question my never waning age here, but otherwise I do very well. He would do well without me, just fine. But I will suffer without him. It makes me feel pathetic."

Reinette was quiet a long time. "It is hard for a human to love an angel. I can't imagine playing at having that love returned, never quite sure of how real it is or much it will stick or how long it will last. Playing at a dream, hoping to delay the time until you wake up."

Y/n sighed. "He'll be back one day. Perhaps I will know the answer then."

So they waited, both of them. They waited so long. So many years for such a long time that Reinette died before the Doctor came back. When he did, Y/n stood outside in a suit in the rain, watching the carriage go with her body inside, heading off to be buried. Y/n watched, and he decided that after all these years this was the moment that proved to him all the pain and insecurity and hesitation and not being quite sure was all worth it. The danger didn't matter. Neither did the slight loneliness. Because when one loves an angel, and that glorious being dared attempt to return such affection, even a little bit was worth it. It would be the best love Y/n ever experienced, and that would be enough.

When Y/n came inside, the Doctor was waiting for him. "You've been here all this time?" Y/n nodded. "How long?"

Y/n slipped his hands in his pockets. "I had been here eight years when her 37th birthday. Now she's a little over 40 so... somewhere between ten and twenty years?"

The Doctor hesitated. "Do you prefer it here?"

Y/n looked around. "No." He looked back. "I did have a long time to think though. I... I know a lot about you, Doctor. And you far less so about me. I know that we rushed things, You me and Rose. I understand if you need to take a step back. I don't want you to feel like we have to do anything, or be anything. I-" he sighed. "I don't want you to feel lonely with me around. I just want to be what you wish for, so that you may not feel lonely anymore. Loneliness - it's a terrible feeling."

After a second, the Doctor smiled. "I haven't seen you in so many hours, and for you it's been a decade and a half - give or take. And after all this time, what you've come to realize about your life is that you like this life of ours? Danger and confusion and guessing and all? Me, and my nonsensical ways? You'd chose that over this, and to have it you'd be anything I asked you, even if it meant sacrificing your own feelings?"

"I suppose that's what love is," Y/n shrugged. "Willing to help you be happy, even if it's not with me."

That made the Doctor shake his head, even as he continued giving a small smile. "She told me you were jealous of her. How you were I have no idea. I'd rather have you and Rose at my side any day. Though..." his smile wavered. "I do wish I'd been able to show her just one star up close."

Y/n nodded. "I wish you'd been able to as well."

The Doctor approached Y/n, taking his hand. "So. Back to the TARDIS then?" Y/n nodded. "You can only come if you come as my lover though." He said in with an airy voice, sounding a little like how Reinette used to refer to the King.

It made Y/n chuckle, softly. The fact he could find amusement on such a sorrowful day was quite wonderful. It's what Reinette would have wanted. "Of course, Doctor. I'd have it no other way." So they did go back, and for now, that was the end of it.

-

Story Tags: @shoochi @e-reads-fics

Male reader tags: @sheepfather​

[deleted-blog-29583]

Reveal | Crowley x Reader (Good Omens)

spoiler free

Crowley. The name that was constantly on your mind. You tended not to daydream or get distracted during your shift at the small cafe, but the thought of Crowley was too good of a distraction to ignore. You'd known each other a few years, and both recently admitted your feelings towards each other one druken, rainy night a few days ago. You really liked him, and although he perhaps wasn't always the nicest of people, he was different and it was refreshing. Not to mention he was a sweetheart when he wanted to be, and his looks were to die for.

However, one thing bugged you a little. He always wore his sunglasses. You'd known him for 2 years and you'd never seen him without them on. They didn't look bad, no that wasn't the issue, it just felt like he was hiding something. You tried not to bug him about him because you did once and he got all defensive, but you hoped you'd eventually see his real eyes.

As the final costumer left the cafe, you were the only employee left. You were on lockup duty, which wasn't too bad. You just had to clear up and lock the place, and as you were wiping the counter, the bell rung to signal someone had entered.

"Sorry, we're closed-" you mumbled, but stopped upon seeing Crowley stood with his hands in his pockets and his signature smirk.

"Aw, and here i was hoping i could get some coffee." He fake-pouted, sitting at the counter opposite you.

"You don't drink coffee." You muttered, circling around the counter to sit next to him. "It's weird being on the other side of the counter." You remarked in distaste. You earner a chuckle from Crowley, and a pleasant silent fell over you both.

"You're right." He said out of the blue.

"What?"

"I don't drink coffee, but it gives me an excuse to see you." He smiled, out of character.

"Since when are you the romantic type?" You tilted your head in confusion.

"Since i met you."

"Corny." You sneered. He playfully hit you, and you laughed. "So apart from coming to see me, what do you want? Usually you'd just wait for my shift to end and visit me at my apartment." You asked. He fidgeted in his seat nervously. You'd never seen him nervous before. The smirky, not-giving-a-shit, smooth Crowley had melted away, leaving a nervous and strangely romantic one in its place.

"Romantic? Nervous? Somethings up..." you thought. "This isn't the Crowley i know..."

"I need to tell you something." He spoke with a dark tone. "And you probably won't like me once i'm finished." The atmosphere changed dramatically, the sense of dread filled the air and you grew anxious.

"Is something wrong?" You asked, placing a hand on his shoulder, knowing fully well the answer was yes. He sighed heavily.

"I'm going to take off my sunglasses, and then explain. But please, don't run. Let me explain before you run. Promise me." His voice wavered, and it scared you. He was vulnerable, and you'd never seen this side of him before, and it was quite unnerving.

"I promise." You replied without hesitation. He paused, so you lifted your hands to remove the glasses yourself. He leant back at first, timid. He eventually let you touch the frames, and you pulled them off delicately. His eyes were closed.

"Crowley, we need some mutual trust h-" you sighed, you breath hitching as he bolted his eyes open. Vast yellow orbs with a slit of black down the middle stared at you, awaiting your response. For a split second you thought this was some kind of joke, but the emotion in his sun-glazed eyes told you otherwise.

"I....i'm confused..." you said honestly. "Are they real?" You asked, still staring into his eyes. He nodded.

"And that's not all." He began, standing. "There's a reason they look like this." He took his jacket off and suddenly, huge, black wings sprouted from his shoulder blades. They were feathered and enormous, a murky black. You stared in awe, standing up and facing him. You traced a finger across the top of the wings. They were soft and feathery, and you smiled. Neither of you expected you to smile, but Crowley was just relieved you weren't scared.

"Crowley i....you're not human, are you..." you breathed softly, still quite taken back. He shook his head.

"I'm a demon. I disobeyed God, so now i look like this. I'm over 6000 years old, and i understand this is probably a lot to take in and you need a break from me and probably a forever-break and i get it, but i want you to know that i love you very much and-" he began rambling, hating that he was spilling his emotion onto the floor before you. You cut him off by grabbing his cheeks and crashing your lips against his, passion in every movement. You pulled away, panting slightly.

"The last thing i need is a break, Crowley. I love you, no matter what you are." You explained.

"Good, now shut up and kiss me." He breathed.

"Now there's the Crowley i know." You beamed, before he engulfed you in another knee-buckling kiss.

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Breathe ~ Doctor (part 4)

A/n: I will get to requests soon, I promise. I just want to get to Donna in this series, because I have PLANS it’s going to be great.

Word Count: 11,000+

MASTERLIST

"Shit!"

"Language please, we are still in a school." Y/n turned around to see the principle that still made him feel so incredibly uncomfortable to be around, and tried once again not to look as terrified of the man as he felt.

"Right sir, sorry." Y/n offered a small smile and the other man continued on his way. What a relief.

He was still wrapping his finger as he walked into the cafeteria. He had cut it on accident, and though it was small it was in such a place that it had bled quite a lot before finally calming down enough so he could plaster it. He got his food, passing Rose who was working as a lunch lady, and the two shared a look. Rose's was irritated, and Y/n's was amused. Next Y/n looked around the room to find the Doctor, making his way over to sit across. "How was Physics?" Y/n asked.

The Doctor's eyes fell to Y/n's finger. "How was mechanics?"

Y/n had applied for the mechanic job, same as Rose had gone for lunch lady and the Doctor had aimed for teacher. They'd all gotten it. Mickey and the Doctor had taught Y/n enough about how to fix things that mixed with that and his impressive ability to pick up on simple things pretty easily, he was actually quite good. Only two days in, even the weird staff members that gave Y/n the same vibe as the principal did called Y/n when they needed help with something, instead of the janitor like they had for years.

"You know there's more this gig than just tightening screws and helping the English teacher figure out how computers work. Mr. Bele, the janitor, has actually been teaching me some plumbing stuff. I think I'm properly working." He was rather proud, and it made the Doctor smile. Y/n caught movement in the corner of his eye and looked over to see Rose approaching. "Unlike some people."

She was at the table in a few seconds, pretending to wipe off the surface when she'd just passed four empty tables who needed it far more than this one did. Y/n held in a laugh for her sake - she seemed irritated. "Two day," she reminded. "We've been here for two days.

"Not everything is running from death and facing down mythical beasts," Y/n said casually. "Sometimes it's just scooping lunch and waiting for the right time."

Rose rolled her eyes. Unlike Y/n, the Doctor didn't seem hesitant to irritate her further as he motioned to a spot on the table with his plastic fork. "Sorry, could you just... there's a bit of gravy." She wiped at the wrong thing, and the Doctor pushed it even further. "No, no, just there." She glared a him and he grinned.

"Doctor." Despite her obvious irritation, she did find the right spot and wiped it up.

"Blame your boyfriend, he's the one who put us up to this," the Doctor reminded.

Y/n tried to hide his smile. The three of them were involved, that was obvious, but they hadn't ever made anything official or used labels. Since Rose was technically dating Mickey and hadn't officially broken up with him as well, the Doctor and Y/n had been teasing her about it occasionally. All in good fun, of course, but it still made her scoff every time.

"Have you seen anything to prove him right then?" Y/n asked, resting his chin in his palm as he popped a fry in his mouth.

"Yes actually. One of the kids in my class this morning, got know;edge way beyond planet Earth," the Doctor began.

"You eating those chips?" Rose asked.

Y/n rolled his eyes. "How can you think of food right now? There's a child with extraterrestrial knowledge, Rose."

The Doctor smiled at that, but allowed Rose to grab a few off of his plate anyway. Y/n smiled to himself at the way they so easily invaded each others' space. It wasn't a problem at all for them. "No worries," he dismissed. "I didn't want them anyway they're a bit... different."

"Oh but they're gorgeous." Her mouth was full but also curved in a smile and Y/n chuckled under his breath, shaking his head at her. God she was adorable. "I wish I'd had something like this in school."

A hum came from the Doctor. The kind that told them he wasn't fully paying attention. His mind was somewhere else. "It's quite well behaved, this place."

Y/n had noticed it too. "Yeah, every time I go into classes to fix something they all just sit there and... stare at me. It's not like they're threatening, just a bit unnerving. Just sitting there, patiently waiting for me to finish. I've heard stories about how kids use their phones and talk during lectures, let alone when there's nothing going on. I don't know Rose, is that the norm?"

She nodded, far used to Y/n asking questions about things that he should have experienced but never did. "Yeah one time the teacher needed help with something and two kids snogged in the back of the classroom the whole time. One kid used to throw pencils at the back of my head during class, until I moved seats."

"Yeah I thought they'd all be happy-slapping hoodies. Happy slapping hoodies with ASBO's," the Doctor input. "Happy slapping hoodies with ASBO's and ringtones, yeah?" He seemed quite proud of himself. "Don't tell me I don't fit in."

Before Rose could tease him, the head lunchlady approached, her eyes on the blonde at the table. "You are not to leave your station during a sit in."

Rose stood. "I was just talking to this teacher, and his mechanic friend."

"Hello," the Doctor greeted as Y/n smiled, nodding politely rather than voicing something. It was pretty reflective of how they usually worked, with Y/n tending to sit back and blend in and the Doctor sticking out like a sore thumb and grabbing all the attention. It wasn't a bad thing, just what was normal. The whole thing with the wold had been rare. A nice rarity though.

"This professor here says he doesn't like the chips," Rose added, shaking her head. It seemed to be some attempt at a joke to break the tension. Something the other woman could relate to maybe.

It fell short. If anything, she seemed offended. "The menu has been specifically designed by the headmaster to improve concentration and performance. Now get back to work." And with that, she turned around and left.

Y/n blew air out of his mouth, eyes wide as he looked back to Rose. "See?" She said to him, shaking her head. "This is me." She began to leave, walking backward so she could motion to her apron and uniform. "Dinner lady," she added with a grumble as she turned her back to the two men, heading back to the kitchen.

"I'll have the crumble," the Doctor shot back.

The last thing they heard from her was, "I'm so gonna kill you." Y/n covered his laugh, trying to stay third party to their banter as usual. Sometimes he had his fun as well, but he tended to be laid back enough to play peacekeeper more than anything.

The Doctor leaned into him, snagging his attention. "What?" Y/n asked upon seeing an odd look in the Doctor's eyes.

The Timelord just smiled. "What do you think it would have been like, this? School and such?"

Y/n scoffed. "Terrible, from what I hear. Especially for me." He messed with his food, distracting himself as he always did when he had to be vulnerable. He only ever did it for Rose and the Doctor, but it was still hard - even for them. "I think I have anxiety." A short, bitter laugh. "I've never really had to face it of course, with being as apart from society as a human who lives on Earth can be. It kept me alive and made me really functional, living on the streets as a child. I learned to steal pretty quickly, motivated by my hunger and constant paranoia that I'd get caught. I didn't trust anyone, not even those I probably should have. Kept me alive though, I bet. Something like that, in a place like this? No. I would have crumbled for sure. Wouldn't have been able to read aloud or say the answer when I was called on or been able to make any friends. I probably would have sat in the corner every day, in every class, and prayed I wouldn't get noticed." His smile dropped. "Kids like that... they struggle in school. People are mean."

The Doctor reached over and took Y/n's hand. "Well, I'm lucky. You've got some very good survival skills. That instinct of yours has saved my life more times than I can count, I'm sure."

"Nah." Y/n chuckled to himself. "You'd have been fine without me. Figured something out, I'm sure."

"Yeah," the Doctor agreed. "Thanks to you I didn't have to, though." He smiled. "Lots of people have you to thank for saving their lives as well, Y/n. If nothing else, you do well in this life."

That did cheer Y/n up actually. "I hope it'll always be that way. I'd hate to slow you down."

At that, the Doctor actually laughed. It was low and quiet, unlike his usual laugh, but far more domestic. Calm. It was a laugh that didn't need to be showy - it was good enough to be familiar. "If ever comes the day I'm not trying to keep up with you, then I'll start to worry."

Out of the corner of Y/n's eye, there was movement. He looked over to see some of the kids looking between the two men and their hands. Y/n suddenly got rather bashful, attempting to pull his hand away. The Doctor only held on tighter. "You know, we're in public," Y/n noted.

"Yep," the Doctor agreed.

"Showing affection," Y/n added, nodding to their hands.

"Indeed." The Doctor smiled and Y/n thought the man odd, in a pleasant way. The way he wasn't afraid to be himself was rather refreshing - especially when the plan had been to be polite and pleasant, but otherwise act as strangers.

Y/n spent the rest of lunch enjoying the moment. Word would spread, but these kids didn't seem the type to prod, even though children of this age should be at peak curiosity, yet to develop a social censor. The perfect disaster for pushy, nosey kids asking questions they probably shouldn't be. Not at this school though. For now, they could enjoy the exchange and that was enough.

Then lunch was over and it was back to business.

A little bit later, Y/n was pushing his cart down the hallway to go around his usual round to check if anything was out of place that hadn't been noticed - this was used most for normal schools where kids pulled pranks, but at this school he could use the guise to get information wherever he could - when he was stopped by the Principal, who had a woman at his side. "Ah yes, Mr. Doe," the older man greeted. "Miss Smith, this is our handyman. He help the janitor quite a bit - had some training in more things than cleaning and basic plumbing. Helps with the cooling and heating, and when machines break down or are hard to understand. Since when did things get so advanced, am I right?" He chuckled softly, but didn't get a response.

The other two were too busy staring at each other. "Sarah Jane," Y/n whispered, eyes wide.

Sara, though she knew for a fact that she couldn't know this man in front of her, felt that... maybe she did, actually. There was something familiar in his eyes, aside from the raw and obvious recognition that he looked at her with.

The principal seemed surprised. "You two know each other?"

"I-" Y/n panicked. If he said yes, Sara would surely be confused. But if he said no... well obviously that was a lie. How could he explain that he knew her, but she didn't know him? "We met briefly. I have a fantastic memory, when it comes to faces. Like a steal trap. I'm sure you don't remember me, but I dare say I could never forget a face as pretty as yours." It was probably odd to flirt with her as she was quite a bit older than he was, but he couldn't help it. He had someone else's memories, and the feelings that came with them.

"That makes sense," Sara voiced. Her words seemed a little distant though, her eyes boring into Y/n's, as if searching.

A little panicked, Y/n looked away. "Nice to see you again, Miss Smith. I hope you won't think me rude, but I must be off. Got work to do." He nodded to the principal. "Good day." Then he left, feeling Sara Jane Smith's eyes on his back the whole way.

Things were about to get very interesting.

-

"Kenny?" Y/n was surprised to see the spikey haired boy looking so shaken. Y/n had a habit of making friends with people as he went, in a way that Rose and the Doctor didn't. They were friendly and formed attachments, of course, but Y/n had an aura about him that made those who were lost or scared or confused flock to him for protection and understanding. It just so happened that those who were in such states in the line of things the Doctor and his two companions did, often had the most information. Y/n's friends were often full of just the information he needed, and they trusted him so much that it wasn't very hard to get it out of them.

Like now.

"I think I'm going mad," the young boy squeaked.

Ah yes, the staple sentence that meant someone had seen something important. "Now why's that?"

Kenny seemed to debate for quite a while, until Y/n rested his hand on the young boy's shoulders, encouraging him to talk. "I heard something weird in one of the classes, so I went to investigate. And... well I looked under one of the desks and there was some sort of... gargoyle, or bat or-" He shook his head. "I spooked it I think. It stood up and it was one of the staff." Y/n's eyes went wide. "He told me to go. Am I losing it?"

Kneeling down, Y/n got very serious. "You've not lost anything, Kenny, do you hear me?" The boy hesitated, then nodded. "I believe you. I do." That seemed to make Kenny quite relieved. "Now go to class and leave it up to me. I'll figure this out, promise." He hesitated before adding, "And Kenny? Don't tell anyone else what you saw, or that you told anyone. Do you understand me?"

The boy seemed unsure, but nodded again. "Okay."

"Good boy." Y/n let out a breath of relief. "Run along now and get to class. I don't want you being late." Kenny did go off, and Y/n turned back to his cart, looking at it a second before continuing on.

Did this mean he had to admit Mickey was right? God he hoped not.

-

"He said... a bat?"

"Or a gargoyle," Y/n confirmed to the Doctor's question. "Anything come to mind?"

"No." He frowned at the door they were about to go into as Y/n took the lead, using his keys to unlock it so they could all get in. He seemed worried by his lack of knowledge. If they were all being honest, it made Rose and Y/n just as nervous to see it. The Doctor was rarely caught off unawares and when he was... Well it wasn't good.

Once inside, Rose found a good joke as always to lighten the mood. "Oh," she whispered, her words mixed with laughter. "It's so weird to be in a school at night. Kinda spooky." She giggled, nudging Y/n who smiled. "When I was a kid I used to think all the teachers slept in school."

"Alright team," The Doctor began, shifting focus back to what was important. "Oh-" he cut off, making an odd face. "I hate people who say 'team'. Uh- gang? Uh... comrades."

"Squad?" Y/n offered.

"No," the Doctor shot down. "Anyway,  Rose, go to the kitchen and get a sample of that oil. Mickey, the new staff are all maths teachers, check on the maths department. Y/n, look around to see if you can find any traces that could give us more clues on these bat or gargoyle creatures. Anything at all. I'm going to check out Finch's office. Meet back here in ten minutes." He took off, leaving the other three alone.

Rose hesitated around Mickey. Y/n didn't know where the two were at anymore, since Rose, Y/n and the Doctor had become... official? Weren't they? I guess they'd never said. It was quite confusing now that he was thinking about it. Rose still seemed to care about Mickey, so there was that. Even now, she checked in one him. "You going to be alright?"

"Me?" He brushed off far too eagerly, as if he'd been waiting to show that he was cool and capable. Something gave Y/n the idea that Mickey was doing so specifically to seem more cool and collected than the Doctor. Jokes on him, the Doctor was neither of those things and tended to actually be rather unhinged and chaotic. Y/n wasn't going to correct Mickey though - it was funny to see the man scramble and make a fool of himself. "Infiltration and investigation? I'm an expert at this." He began to walk off and Y/n was a bit impressed at how calm and confident he was being... until Mickey came back to ask, "Where's the maths department?" Rose pointed him in the direction as Y/n did a bad job at hiding his mocking chuckles.

When Mickey was gone, Rose rounded on Y/n. "What is your deal?"

"What do you mean, I've always been at odds with Mickey," Y/n pointed out.

"Not like that," Rose argued. "You're usually at least polite if nothing else. And you can't blame this on the Doctor, because you were the one who backed me up when Mickey called and the Doctor tried to dismiss it. You respect Mickey, deep down. And you care about him. The only time I've seen you act like this, lashing out by being petty, was when we were younger and you were upset but wouldn't tell me. So, Y/n, what's your deal?"

Y/n wasn't sure when she had gotten so perceptive of him. Perhaps she'd always been this way. He knew how they always worked though. She wouldn't press if he asked her not to, and he couldn't risk this coming out. He didn't even know it was bothering him as much as it apparently was, but it didn't matter. His current... condition had to stay a secret. "Nothing, really. We have to-"

But Rose had changed too, just as Y/n had, and the usual way she let things slide didn't seem to be what she was okay with anymore. "We haven't kept secrets in ages now. You can trust me Y/n. That's what partners do, right? They talk to each other? Communication and all."

Partners. Wait, what? "I thought... you and Mickey-"

Rose offered a shrug ad a sheepish smile. "We've loved each other for years, you and me, and now we also love the Doctor. That's... a bit chaotic, I'm not going to lie. It's going to be hard enough loving two men who are equally reckless, I can't deal with the drama of someone else too. I... adore Mickey, I really do. He was good to me for a long time. But I've seen what wasting time and waiting too long can do, and if you two are eventually going to have to say goodbye to me then I am going to soak up ever damn second I have until then. I'm tired of wasting time, Y/n. It only hurts more in the end."

"Oh." Y/n rubbed the back of his neck, smiling to himself. "Okay."

Rose rolled her eyes. "You're adorable, truly, but you're not going to distract me. I want answers."

A panic flashed through the man and he did the first thing he could think of. He grabbed Rose and kissed the living hell out of her. When he leaned away, she looked a little dazed which is what he was going for. "I'll tell you. I really will. Just... not right now, okay? I can't do this right now, especially because there's too much else going on. I'm sorry." Then he took off toward the halls, ready to look around to find something that would help them all out.

He did find something. He opened the door, revealing a sight that made his blood run cold. Then he heard a scream, and he booked it over, running in to see Mickey. Before the boy could explain his exclamation, the Doctor joined the scene a second later, Rose and Sara Jane on his heels.

Y/n froze. "Sara Jane." He cleared his throat, able to handle it much better the second time around - especially with eyes on him. It sounded less like someone greeting an old friend, and more someone just saying hello in general.

"James," she greeted back. "Mr. Doe, I mean. Sorry, I got your first name from the principal quite by accident. Since you used mine I figured-"

"No worries," Y/n rushed. "It's - uh - not James though. It's actually Y/n. I went by a fake name myself. The Doctor stole John though, so I went with James instead. Different enough that no one would call me out for the obviously fake name."

"Oh," Sara Jane realized. "John Doe." They both chuckled, but the sound was cut off by an irritated Rose, who seemed to be very much not enjoying the exchange between the two.

"Why did you scream, Mickey?" She demanded, turning attention back to the reason they were all there. Unfortunately, Y/n did not miss the odd way the Doctor looked at him, confused by the interaction between the two.

Mickey seemed suddenly wanting to disappear. "Sorry, I uh..." He moved aside to let everyone see in. "You told me to investigate, so I started looking through these cupboards and all these fell out on me."

"Oh my god they're rats," Rose realized. "Dozens of rats. Vacuum-packed rats." Y/n had to agree with her wonder at it all.

"And you decided to scream?" The Doctor stood, looking at Mickey with a raised eyebrow.

"It took me by surprise," Mickey defended.

"Like a little girl?"

"It was dark! I was covered in rats!"

"Nine, maybe ten years old. I'm seeing pigtails, frilly skirt."

"To be fair," Y/n piped in, feeling this wasn't fair on Mickey. "There's a lot of tension and people tend to die on these adventures of ours. I don't blame Mickey for being tense." Seeing Sara Jane had put him in a rather good mood if he did say so himself, even if he refused to admit it. It countered his anxieties about having the Doctor's memories and brought him back to normal.

"Can we focus?" Was the nest thing said, and that came from Rose. "Has anyone noticed anything strange about this? Rats in school?"

"Well obviously they used them in biology lessons. They dissect them," Sarah Jane pointed out. "Or maybe you haven't reached that bit yet. How old are you?"

That took Y/n off guard, but before he could play peacemaker Rose shot back with, "Excuse me no one dissects rats in school anymore. They haven't done that for years. Where are from, the Dark Ages?"

"Anyway!" The Doctor butt in, looking between the two women with confusion. Y/n seemed to be the only one who got it, what was happening. "Moving on. Everything started when Mr. Finch arrived. We should go check his office."

"Actually." This time it was Y/n. "I found something, before we all got here. Rather convenient if you ask me, I won't lie. Now we can all go back together."

"And you're only saying this now?" The Doctor demanded.

Y/n rolled his eyes. "You shut your mouth. Between the jealousy wafting off of all four of you at all times and trying to keep the peace between all of it, I think I deserved a moment of silence for myself." Then he turned away, storming off toward the teacher's lounge where he'd seen the thing before.

"Jealousy?" the Doctor scoffed, offended. "I'm not- Y/n wait up!"

Y/n lead the way, the other four following. The Doctor was right behind Y/n, Sara Jane and Rose on either side of him and then Mickey behind them. As they walked, he heard, "I don't mean to be rude or anything, but who exactly are you?"

"Sara Jane Smith," she replied. "I used to travel with the Doctor."

"Oh!" Rose spoke with the voice that told Y/n she was getting pissed. The two women pushed ahead to be on either side of Y/n and even began to walk a little faster. Y/n didn't mind it, getting his kicks when they turned the wrong way at first and then had to catch up again. "Well, he's never mentioned you."

"That's it." Y/n stopped cold, the Doctor ramming into him. He ignored the man, facing the two women in the hallway. "You both listen to me. I'm not going to have you taking stabs at each other all night. Sara Jane, the Doctor didn't talk about you, but not because he doesn't care. He cares a lot, actually. Maybe two much. He's just got a lot on his plate at literally all times, and talking about his past hurts so he rarely does it - if ever. I already have to deal with the Doctor and Mickey, I won't tolerate this too. Sara Jane, you started this, and I want you to end it right now. Rose is just responding - neither which I condone by the way. Get your things in place." Then he turned back around and began walking again, leaving the other four to walk silently behind him for quite a stretch of time.

No one spoke again until they got to the teacher's lounge. "Maybe those rats were food," the Doctor thought aloud, actively trying to ignore the other two women and focus on Y/n, who seemed to be the only one with a level head tonight.

"Food for the gargoyle bats?" Y/n asked.

"Maybe, or-" but then the door opened and he looked around inside, and his voice died. "Rose, remember how you used to think all the teachers slept in school?" He began walking in, everyone filtering in after him. "Well, they do." Y/n was the only one who stayed out, already knowing what was inside.

Of those who went in, Mickey was the one who left first. He booked it out, causing everyone else to follow. He went right out the front doors, turning away from the school and catching his breath, hands on knees and eyes slammed close as he tried to shake the image of those things out of his head. "I am not going back in there," he stated firmly. "No way."

"Were those the teachers?" They were all out of breath, but Rose managed to look at the Doctor for more answers. He, however, was thinking it through, still trying to figure it out himself.

"When Finch arrived, he brought with him seven new teachers, four dinner ladies, and a nurse - thirteen. Thirteen big bat people." He looked back at the school. "Come on."

"You've got to be kidding me," Mickey complained.

"I need the TARDIS," the Doctor explained. "I've got to analyse that oil from the kitchen.

"I might be able to help you there," Sara Jane piped up. Rose rolled her eyes. "I've got something you should see." They all followed to her to her car, where she opened the trunk to reveal something covered in a blanket. The Doctor pulled it aside.

Two voices rang out at the same time. The first was the Doctor, which made sense. The second, unfortunately, was Y/n, who was yet again too caught off guard by surprise and too small a window of time to think clearly and stop himself. "K-9!"

Sarah Jane and the Doctor looked at Y/n, who was immediately struck with fear. God why did he have to have such a big mouth? By some mercy, Rose piped up before either of the two people now staring at Y/n with far too many question - none of which he was willing to answer - could begin asking. "Why does he look so... disco?"

That caught the Doctor's attention. "Oi!" He complained. "Listen, in the year 5000 this was cutting edge. What happened to him?"

Finally Sarah Jane looked away as well. "One day just... nothing," she answered.

"Didn't you try to get him repaired?" The Doctor sounded a little offended. It made Y/n smile to hear him whine like that.

"It's not like getting parts from a Mini Metro," Sara Jones pointed out, defending herself. "Besides, technology inside him could rewrite human science. I couldn't show him to anyone!"

"Ooh." The Doctor's voice dropped, speaking to K-9 as if the dog was alive and could hear him. Like one would speak to a real dog. "What has the nasty lady done to you?" It made Y/n smile even wider. God, he was rather adorable too, wasn't he? The Doctor reached up and scratched the metal behind where K-9's ears were. It was only then Y/n realized Rose and Mickey were confused by the whole show, rather than endeared. Y/n also noticed Sarah Jane, who stood up from where she'd been bent over before, giving Rose a look like she'd won something.

Y/n was about ready to lose it on the woman. Why couldn't these two just stop for one second and let the Doctor enjoy something? He didn't get to far too often. Before he could say something, Rose did. "Okay, could you two just stop petting for a minute? Never mind the tin dog, we're busy." With that, they all got into Sarah Jane's car and  headed to a nearby diner that was still open to fix K-9 so he could analyze the oil. There, the Doctor and Sarah Jane got acquainted once again. Y/n was too scared to reminisce with them, so he stayed by Rose and Mickey. Turns out, that was an even bigger mistake.

"You know what's really impressive is that she's been here an hour and I still haven't said I told you so," Mickey mouthed off.

Y/n felt his anger boil. "Probably because you didn't tell anyone anything, and you're just being a dick."

Mickey glared. The pair had only gotten hostile a few times, but had always been calmed by Rose. Rose, it seemed, was not in the mood to play peacemaker. It had been Y/n's role for too long now. "I'm sorry, YOU look at them then. Tell me that they weren't just like Rose and the Doctor."

Y/n absolutely noticed how Mickey cut Y/n out of that equation. Had she not told him the specifics, or was he just being extra petty? "Okay yes, Sara Jane traveled with the Doctor just like me and Rose do now, and things... were between them. Sort of." He scoffed. "But that was ages ago. Neither of them feel that way anymore, they're just nostalgic. The Doctor disappeared on Sarah Jane one day and just never returned. She thought he was dead, and he's been carrying that unfinished business with him ever since. There's been no closure." He sighed. "Can you imagine, Rose? Nine hundred years he's been alive, and you want him to have spent the majority of that all by himself, after watching his entire planet be destroyed? Think about how he was before we came in his life. How lonely it had to be. When the Doctor gets left alone like that... he gets too much in his head. He gets too fixated on his power and potential and how in control he is. His species is like a god to most others, and he's the last. If he'd been alone all this time, it would have gone to hid head long ago and he wouldn't be the man we know and love. Not even a shadow of him."

Rose didn't seemed cheered by that like Y/n thought, though her body did relax and her expression changed. She was still rather grim, but rather than with jealousy toward Sarah Jane, it was... worry. Confusion. All toward Y/n. "Why do you say that like you know? Like... you were there?"

Y/n didn't have an answer for that. Not one he wanted to share. "I..." He looked away. His mind was blank and he didn't know what to say. In that moment, he began speaking. "Can you imagine what its like to watch your family die right in front of you?" The room was suddenly quite silent, other than the Doctor and Sarah Jane still chatting in the background. "He has the weight of universes on his shoulders. The weight of time and space as a whole. All that ever was and will be. What is, and what can never be. He has it all in his head, swirling around in there waiting to swallow him whole. Think about how incredibly smart he is. No one is that smart anymore. Everyone we've met whose that smart was... lost, in a way. Knowledge is power, but power unused is a waste. Remember the Daleks? Just as clever as him, unable to handle the weight of emotions that comes with it, so they stripped it all away to just survive. They got so arrogant and so obsessed with the power of their minds they stopped really living, labeled themselves as the superior species, and going around destroying worlds with billions of people on it as a past time, for fun, because they legitimately believe that anything other than them is inferior and therefore needs to be destroyed. Can you imagine if it was just one of them? Alone, for hundreds of years. No one can match his intelligence or capability. When he fails, everyone else panics because he's the one we depend on to always have the answers and get it all done. he leads and everyone follows. If they know his real power, they usually do so without question and they'd be right to. The Doctor's wrath is unmatched, and his power is limitless, and without someone there to check him he'd have been lost long ago. It's just fact, Rose, and not hard to piece together. Pain changes people, and no one has been through more than the Doctor. If he wanted to, he could destroy everyone. Everything. But he doesn't, because he has people around him to remind him what is important past just facts and figures. Past logic and fixed points in time. I think that's why he likes humans so much. We remind each other."

"Two quid, love." Three pairs of eyes snapped to the side as Rose remembered why she was at this counter. She took her food with one hand, paying with the other. The trio all gathered their thoughts before heading over to a table for three, sitting down so Rose could eat her chips.

"Do you think he's only into us because of that?" Rose asked softly. "Because we ground him?"

Y/n smiled to himself. "No, not at all. I understand him. He hasn't been understood by someone stable and sane for a long time. It's usually the worst people who know what he's been through, or the people who had so much potential but have tragic endings. It's... disheartening, to say the least." He looked at Rose. "He likes you because you're all the best humanity has to offer. You care, loudly, and you do everything with your heart and never your head. You... you're the opposite of him, I guess. You're so much good. All of the good, even. A little reckless and loud, with a bleeding heart and a determination that can never be put out even in the bleakest of scenarios." Rose blushed and Y/n cleared his throat, looking away. "You know, he probably misses how big his family used to be. So many people fit in the TARDIS. I think... even if she does stay longer-"

"You think he'll invite her to come along with us?" Rose asked.

A shrug was all she got for a few seconds. "She knows things already. They had good times, the two of them. You can tell from the way she smiles at her. He gives himself to everyone he travels with, even if its just a little because they're not around long. It's like coming home to an old friend from your childhood. One who was a beacon of light in a world of darkness. Like if you and I lost touch and didn't talk for years. When you saw me again, still on good terms and missing how things used to be between us. Wouldn't you want that to not end?"

Rose didn't like that answer. Y/n thought he'd probably spoken enough at this point and the trio sat in quiet as the Doctor fixed K-9 and Rose ate her chips.

The next thing they knew, the Doctor was jumping up from his table as the robotic dog whirred to life. "All right!" he exclaimed. "Now we're in business."

"Master," K-9 said, in an electronic voice that brought memories back to Y/n he shouldn't have.

"He recognizes me!" the Doctor crooned, grinning at Sarah Jane.

"Affirmative," K-9 spoke again.

"Rose." The Doctor turned around to face the three humans sat away from him and Sarah Jane. "Give us the oil." AT his call, the three rose and joined him so Rose could hand over the little jar she'd collected earlier from the school. He took it, opened it, and went to dip a finger in to scoop it out.

Rose stopped him. "I wouldn't touch it though, that dinner lady got all scorched."

"I'm no dinner lady," the Doctor declared in such a serious voice that Y/n almost laughed. "And I don't often say that," the man added, eyes taking in Y/n's amusement. He then dipped a finger in with no harm at all, smearing the oil onto K-9's censor. "Here we go," the Doctor encouraged as K-9 began to beep. "Come on boy here we go."

K-9 spoke again, his words stuttered. "Oil extract..." he began. He seemed to be struggling. "Analyzing."

"Listen to him man," Mickey chuckled. "That's a voice!"

"Careful," the Doctor warned. "That's my dog."

Y/n smiled to himself. For a second he imagined the Doctor in a life different than this. A life the Doctor wanted but would never be allowed to live. One he never let himself think about. A life in a house, a ring on his finger and a dog barking in the front lawn. Children... It would be a nice life. Y/n could see the man playing with that dog as he did K-9, but more. Just fun, rather than gaining knowledge and analyzing data and running into danger head first. He'd have so much fun with a real dog... That life though. Y/n tried to imagine the Doctor really in it. Settling down in a house of his own. Getting a job. It would be a happy life. A stable and safe life. It would not be a life that really fit him though. The Doctor is and always would be a traveler. It was a life he'd chosen for himself, on purpose. One that fit him.

He felt eyes on him and looked over, locking eyes with Sarah Jane. Her gaze widened as she saw that familiar thing in Y/n again. The thing, she now realized, she always saw when she looked at the Doctor. She recalled her surprise when the Doctor had revealed himself to not be Y/n, realizing that the first time they'd talked, she'd subconsciously thought Y/n and the Doctor the same man. She searched Y/n's should, trying to understand. Y/n saw a question that startled him.

Are you a Timelord?

She seemed to ask it silently, scanning Y/n's face for signs. But there wouldn't be, even if Y/n was. Of course he wasn't... and yet. The question was warranted. What made a man who changed faces and personalities and age and ethnicity every time he died? Who became a new man over and over again, over hundreds of years? Other than the obvious biology that kept him consistently a Timelord no matter what face he took, the thing that made the Doctor was his memories. His mind. The way he saw life and knew things that should be impossible. If that was what made Timelords special - what made the Doctor special - did Y/n having that knowledge somehow make him special too? No, he wasn't a Timelord, but he did have a very significant piece of one locked inside of him. He had a whole other person in his mind, with a life he never lived and people he never met.

So no, technically, Y/n was not a Timelord. Not biologically. But perhaps... perhaps just a little, in away, he was. What an interesting thought.

"Are you two coming?"

The pair looked over to see Mickey, and an even more surprising sight. The Doctor, looking between Y/n and Sarah Jane with the same look that Rose wore for Sarah Jane and the Doctor. With... jealousy? Well that made absolutely no sense.

"Yeah," Y/n responded, realizing everyone else was headed back out again. "Sorry, I missed that last bit. What's happening now?"

"We'll update you on the way," the Doctor dismissed, seeming suddenly rather far away. They all left the diner and piled in the car again. During the drive, the empty spaces in the missed conversation were filled in and everyone was caught up. First to be dropped off was Mickey, then the Rose, the Doctor, and Y/n, who always stayed at Rose's when they needed to. Jackie never minded.

The night was stretching on and Y/n couldn't sleep. There was a spare room that Mickey sometimes slept in, which the Doctor took now on Y/n's insistence. They'd agreed on switching off nights, and tonight was Y/n's turn on the couch. Perhaps that was what gave Rose the courage to come into the room and face Y/n. "I can't sleep."

Y/n sat up. "Neither can I. Want to watch a movie and drink something warm?"

The blond shook her head. "Can I just... lay with you? We don't have to sleep or stay awake. I just don't want to be alone." Y/n scooted, making room for her. He patted the spot next to him, where she settled. After a second she leaned into Y/n, and he let his arm wrap around her, pulling her into his side. "You know, I've been playing it off but... there really will be a time after me, for you two. You don't die, and he... he's lives hundreds of years, I'm sure he'll be here after I die. Do you think - I mean, he and her were close once too. Do you think he'll forget me like he did her? He doesn't even talk about her anymore. I just-"

Y/n held her tighter. "He doesn't forget anyone, Rose. Really he doesn't. It's just like I said before - it hurts him to talk about his past. If he lingers in what he misses, he drowns in the sadness of all he's lost. I- you're different, I think. If not for him definitely for me. Maybe I do have forever ahead of me, but there's nothing like your first love. You'll always be with me, Rose, I promise you." Y/n sighed. "I can't speak for him though. You should talk to him yourself, after all this is done."

Rose didn't respond. Wrapped in each other's arms and held together by a promise that Y/n meant with all of his being, they finally relaxed and fell asleep.

The next morning, they all had to go back to school. They weren't wasting time pretending to do their jobs this time though. They didn't know what was happening, or when it would get worse, and no cover was worth the life of another student if they took too long.

"Rose, Sarah, you two go to the maths room and crack open those computers. I need to see the hardware inside." He took out his sonic screwdriver, handing it to Rose. "Here, you might need this. Y/n, you keep an eye on the kids. I don't want anymore to go missing. Mickey, surveillance. I want you outside."

"Just stand outside?" Mickey asked, confused.

"Here, take these." Sarah tossed Mickey her keys. "You can keep K-9 company."

"Don't forget to leave the window open a crack," the Doctor called back as Mickey walked back to the car.

"What? He's metal!" Mickey threw back.

"I didn't mean for him!" the Doctor replied. He shot a smile at Y/n, but this time Y/n did not give one back. Making fun of Mickey was losing his touch. This whole thing was getting to Y/n and he couldn't find much amusing at the moment. He'd been thinking nonstop about what he would do if Rose- I guess, WHEN Rose left them. It was a terrible thought and he very much hated it, but he couldn't shake it either.

Rose cut in on his thoughts by asking the Doctor, "What are you going to do?"

The Doctor's smile dropped as he got serious. "It's time I had a word with Mr. Finch."

That was where they parted ways. Y/n drifted through the halls, hovering around the principal's office when the man wasn't around, and then heading outside when it was break time. The alarm went off for everyone to go inside far too early and Y/n hesitated, staying back, as the kids rushed back into the building again. He had a horrible feeling in his gut. What was about to happen?

A hand rested on Y/n's arm. He looked over to see Kenny, to his relief. "Sir..." the boy hesitated. "Have you gotten any closer to stopping the bat people?"

Y/n smiled, nodding in reassurance. "Much. I promise, we're just about to figure it out. Go to class Kenny, I swear we've got this handled."

"We?" Kenny asked.

"Yeah, me and some friends. Uh, you know the blonde lunch lady with lots of attitude, and the physics teacher?"

Kenny stepped back. "You're one of them."

"What?" Y/n stepped toward him, but the boy stumbled away even further. "No, Kenny, I'm-" but Kenny didn't wait for an explanation. He just turned and ran. Y/n wanted to go after him, but couldn't. It wouldn't help much, and he had to keep an eye on the children - especially now that things seemed about ready to hit the fan. So, instead, he counted his losses and jogged into the building to see all the kids filtering into classrooms with computers that light up with green screens. He couldn't go into any of them without crossing a teacher he knew was one of the bad guys though, so he headed on and on until he found the room with the others in it.

Rose was there to greet him. "You were right." He paused, unsure how to proceed after that. She did it for him. "Sarah and I talked. She's pretty cool actually. We decided to stop fighting."

Y/n did smile at that. "I'm glad to hear it." Rose took his hand, turning and walking toward the Doctor, pulling Y/n after her. She seemed to be hovering between helping him - which she really couldn't do - and watching the doorway to make sure no children came in, which is probably what she was told to do. None of them seemed to be making much headway in any direction.

Suddenly the screens light up with green light and words that none of them could understand. Well, none of them bu the Doctor surely, whose eyes seemed to scan the screen, taking up as much as he could as it all raced across the screen almost too quick to read.

"Well, you wanted the program," Sarah sighed. "There it is."

"Some sort of code," the Doctor whispered. After a second, he stepped forward. "No... No, they can't be."

"What is it?" Y/n asked gently.

"The Skasas Paradigm," the Doctor finally said aloud. "They're trying to crack the Skasas Paradigm."

"The Skasis what?" Sarah rightfully asked.

The Doctor struggled to explain. "The god-maker. The universal theory. Crack that equation and you've got control over the building blocks of the universe. Time and space and matter, yours to control."

"What, and the kids are like a giant computer?" Rose asked, horrified.

"Yes." The Doctor seemed to not like the answer, but not just in a general way. None of them liked this, but the Doctor seemed to hate this. On a personal level. He suddenly turned away from it, not wanting to see it anymore. "And their learning power is being accelerated by the oil! That oil from the kitchens, it works as a conducting agent, it makes the kids cleverer."

The other women turned to watch the Doctor pace, but Y/n watched the screen, as if transfixed. His mind felt a little far away. He felt that same thing he'd sensed in the Doctor. He didn't just not like this. He hated it. He loathed this entire thing. "But why?" It came out soft and quiet. Maybe even a little broken. He finally looked at the Doctor, finding confusion among all the anger surging through him. "That's not living, controlling everything. It's not experiencing or learning or anything. It's... creating a world for others to live in. What's the fun in knowing what's going to happen next and controlling everything to go your way? Makes it so much more fun to improvise. Makes it... better. Life is meant to be experienced, not... I mean, authors don't experience their stories, readers do. Characters. Why would anyone choose to be the author?"

The Doctor almost smiled. "Because life is hard and scary. Some people don't want to live through that fear and struggle. They forget the fun and the thrill and the adventure, and they destroy it in favor of getting rid of those hardships. That's what so many living beings forget. You can't have happiness without sadness. They create each other. It's no fun to be the smartest in the room. To know everything and having been everywhere. The fun is in the confusion. In the chaos. In the complete lack of control."

"Okay nice psychology and all," Rose interrupted, breaking the two men away from their locked eyes and racing minds as they connected yet again in a way she missed. "But that oil, I mean, that's been on the chips. Y/n and I have been eating them."

Immediately the Doctor faced her, shooting, "What's 59 times 35?"

Without hesitation, Rose replied with the exact sane tone, "2065." He tilted his head and she added, "Oh my god." Y/n found himself enjoying this. There was still that anger, but it wasn't affecting him negatively. It cleared his mind and got his heart racing. He felt his body speeding up, and his mind running faster than it ever had before.

Y/n's anger was only fueling him, and now he was smarter than ever. Nothing could stop him.

"But why use children?" Sarah asked. "Can't they use adults?"

"The god-maker needs imagination to crack it," Y/n answered without thinking. He had tapped into the Doctor's knowledge long ago, soaking in every detail running through the Doctor's head up until the day Rose Tyler and Bad Wolf and the Doctor's new regeneration. He'd been holding back so much, afraid of exposing himself, but now he was rushing on adrenaline and smarter than ever. Not only did he have the information, but he could understand it, and there was none of his usual and there was none of his usual anxieties stopping him. "Name one adult with imagination. Real imagination. Enough to create lives and worlds and universes - stories, or games. Enough to look at one thing and see something magical. Nearly impossible in adults. Much easier to get from children."

Y/n's energy made the Doctor pause. "Precisely," he affirmed softly. Sarah and Rose both seemed surprised as well. "They're not just using the childrens' brains to break the code..." He calmed significantly, turning to the other three with a grim expression. "They're using their souls."

That. That was what Y/n had been so angry about. It clicked as the Doctor said it.

Just in time, they had a visitor. "Let the lesson begin." Y/n swung around, coming face to face with the one person Y/n wanted to see the most. "Think of it, Doctor. With the paradigm solved, reality becomes clay in our hands. We can shape the universe and improve it."

"What a rubbish idea," Y/n sassed, rolling his eyes. "The universe isn't meant to be controlled."

"The whole of creation with the face of Mr. Finch," the Doctor agreed, scoffing. "Call me old fashioned, I like things the way they are."

Mr. Finch seemed annoyed by that. "You act like such a radical and yet all you want to do is preserve the old order."

"What's wrong with the old order?" Y/n demanded hotly.

Finally Mr. Finch looked at Y/n. He paused, his eyes roaming to the Doctor again and then back to Y/n. He seemed stunned a second. Only Y/n knew why. Just as Sarah had before, Mr. Finch saw the same look in Y/n's eyes as he saw in the Doctor's. The aged look of one who had been through too much for too long and was still trying to keep going. Keep going despite a small voice at the back of the mind that begged for peace and quiet. One that would never be listened to, because peace and quiet was too terrifying and too many people needed help.

When Mr. Finch spoke next, he spoke to Y/n and the Doctor both. "Think of the changes that could be made if this power was used for good."

Immediately the Doctor was ready with a snappy response. "What, by someone like you?" Y/n let out a sound that was halfway between a scoff and a laugh in agreement.

"No," was Mr. Finch's answer though, taking both of the other men slightly by surprise. "Someone like you." There was a split second of quiet so thick it was nearly suffocating. Mr. Finch cut it off rather quickly. "The paradigm gives us power but you could give us wisdom. Become a god, at my side." He took a step closer to the Doctor. Y/n did the same, but his movements were protective, rather than an attempt to convince. To break. "Imagine what you could do. Think of the civilizations you could save. Perganon, Ascinta - your own people, Doctor. Standing tall." The Timelords, reborn."

"That's not right." Y/n stood straight, that anger in him again even stronger, but this time because he knew how much this hurt the Doctor and he couldn't bear it. This wasn't fair, and Y/n was tired of the Doctor dealing with things that weren't fair. "Everything has its time. Everything ends eventually. The Timelords earned their ending the same as everyone does. How could you ask that of him? It would be chaos. There would be no balance. True chaos. Living forever is painful, and defying death is unnatural."

"Nature, reality, chaos, balance - this could all be ours to change. The rules can be different," Mr. Finch pointed out in response. "You could be anything you wanted to be. You could get those memories out of your head."

Y/n felt all his energy drain. He kept his eyes away from the Doctor, staring purposefully at Mr. Finch while the Doctor shot lasers at the side of Y/n's head. "There's so much you don't understand. You asked for wisdom, and you're ignoring it as its given to you. This isn't some kind of play pretend. This isn't a fantasy that you get to make into a paradise where you always win. You have to lose sometimes, because other people get to win sometimes too. Life's hard and complicated and long and it sucks, but only because we have to hurt in order to know the bliss of not hurting. There's balance. There's fairness. Not always, because sometimes even fairness has to be overruled by unfairness. But that's how it goes. Everyone gets their time, and its short because there's only so much time to give. If one person's time doesn't end, there will be no more time to give to anyone else - don't you understand?"

"I do understand," Mr. Finch sighed. His eyes moved to Sarah and Rose. "You four... clinging to each other, knowing you will eventually have to part ways. This way, it'll never have to happen. No aging or death or going away. No more goodbyes." He looked at the Doctor. "How lonely you must be, Doctor, after a lifetime of one goodbye after another. You can finally make it stop." He looked at Y/n. "You can stop the hurt, for all of them. You who speaks with wisdom you shouldn't have. Who relives over and over again pain and misery that isn't yours. You can make it go away. You can forget all of it. Erase it. Undo it. Make it never happen. Happy, forever. Join us."

"I could save everyone." Y/n looked away, closing his eyes as the Doctor spoke.

"Yes," Mr. Finch encouraged.

"I could stop the war." He grew quiet, thinking about that. Imagining Gallifrey. Seeing it in his memories, but... better. As he is now, Rose and Y/n by his side. His family and friends, returned. His home gloriously breathtaking once more. Y/n could see it too, and... he couldn't speak for the Doctor this time. He knew what he would do if the situations were reserved, and he'd already said his piece. This wasn't his to have an opinion on.

Sarah Jane disagreed. "No," she argued. "The universe has to keep moving forward. "Pain and loss, it defines us. Y/n was right - we need it. Just as much as happiness and love. Whether it's a world or a relationship. Everything will have an end when the time comes. Y/n... knows." She looked at Y/n then, and he turned away from her too. In those last two words was more than what seemed to be there at first. She was not speaking about him knowing loss as she did. She was saying that he knew loss as the Doctor did. Y/n was right, she seemed to beg them all to understand. He knew better than all of them.

Suddenly the Doctor picked up a chair, rushing forward and chucking it at the screen on the wall and shattering it. They all took off running, trying to get as far away from Finch as they could. They ran and ran until they met Mickey, who asked questions there was no time to answer as the others like Finch crawled the halls, screeching and taking off after the Doctor and his companions. So they turned and ran a new direction that took them to the lunchroom. The doors were locked, and right behind them were Finch and the others. This wasn't seeming to be going their way.

"Are those the teachers?" The question came from Kenny, who Y/n had missed joining the group with Mickey when they'd all been running.

"Yeah, sorry." That came from the Doctor. Kenny and Y/n locked eyes and smiled at another. Whatever had been complicated before had been cleared up now - it was obvious whose side Y/n was on.

"We need either the Doctor or the other man alive. Y/n. Just one." Finch looked right at both men as he said their names, and got back a glare in response from both. "As for the others... you can feast."

And so began the fight for their lives. Creature came swooping down from the sky as they all scattered, trying to avoid getting caught in the way of claws or teeth. The Doctor grabbed a chair. Y/n stole his sonic screwdriver and slid toward the door, trying to get it unlocked. It was a hard time as Y/n kept getting almost attacked. At one point, he wasn't fast enough. He turned his back and pressed the sonic screwdriver to the door, trying to work on it. He was too distracted to see the claws aimed for his back. Rose only had time to scream Y/n's name before there was a loud. high pitched sound and a shot of red from the corner of Y/n's eye. He spun around to see K-9. The dog had shot the thing from the sky, killing it, and saving Y/n's life.

Unfortunately, that only seemed to anger Finch more.

Abandoning the door, they took off in a different direction that was open now that K-9 had taken one of them out. They shot off and hesitated only a moment to collect their thoughts. They couldn't run forever - they needed a plan.

As always, it was the Doctor who thought of something. "It's the oil!" He realized. "Krillitane life forms can't handle the oil! That's it! They've changed their physiology so much that even their own oil is toxic to them. How much was there in the kitchen?" He asked Rose in a rush.

"Barrels of it," she responded.

Just then, the Krillitanes made their presence known as they began to scratch and rip at the door separating Krillitane from human... and Doctor.

"We have to get into the kitchen," the Doctor began. "Mickey-"

Mickey had some sass of his own bottled up though. "What now?" he demanded. "Hold the coats?"

Y/n shot him a glare, and Mickey stuck his tongue out in response. The Doctor didn't waste time, instead ordering, "Get all the children unplugged and out of the school. Now then, bats. Bats, bats. How do we fight bats?" To that question, Kenny had an answer. Without saying anything, he hit the fire alarm. The Doctor looked around and then grinned, a laugh of victory coming from him. The rest of the group smiled as well.

With the enemy distracted, they all took off running past the door that had kept them from escaping, right past the Krillitane who were now all on the ground in pain. They ran and ran toward the kitchens. Along the way, K-9 joined them as well. The whole group was back together, and Y/n found his heart swelling as he took in the crowd. This was how it was supposed to be. A group, friends and partners, all there and caring for the Doctor and helping him save the world however many times it needed saving.

In the kitchens, they ran into a problem that quickly wiped away Y/n's good feelings. "They're all deadlock sealed, I can't open them," the Doctor told the others as he tried to use his screwdriver to open up the oil cans. "Finch must have done it."

K-9 had the answer this time. "The vats would not withstand a direct hit from my laser, but my batteries are failing."

"Right," the Doctor picked up again. "Everyone out the back door. K-9, stay with me." Y/n hesitated, but Rose caught his arm and the Doctor shot him a direct look, as if knowing he would try and stay. So he turned and he ran and he hated every second of it.

They were outside now... which meant they were safe, but also that if the Doctor needed help they had no way of getting to him.

When the Doctor came outside, there was a wave of relief inside Y/n... until Sarah Jane asked a question that made his heart plummet. "Where's K-9?"

"We need to run," was the Doctor's response as he deadlocked the door behind them so none could go back.

"Where is he?" Sarah asked again. This time Y/n was needed to grab her hand and pull her away, knowing she didn't want to move and probably wouldn't without help. "What have you done?" she demanded as Y/n dragged her along on their dash for safety. Behind them, there was an explosion.

Y/n and Sarah both stopped short, eyes on the building and pain in their eyes. The Doctor turned to Sarah to comfort her. Y/n tried to get used to this feeling. Having feelings that should not belong to him. Experiencing loss for people he didn't know. No one turning to him to comfort him, because he shouldn't need comfort to begin with.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor apologized to Sarah Jane.

"It's alright," she responded, standing tall. "He was just a daft metal dog - it's fine, really." Her voice broke with emotion and Y/n felt his heart fall. He turned away from the others to hide it. No matter what adrenaline he was on and how much he hated hiding things from the Doctor and Rose, hiding pain from others was still one of his core responses.

With the whole thing over, it was time to go. Y/n hated goodbyes. After today - after thinking about a world without them - Y/n had enough of them for now. He went further into the TARDIS into the room he'd claimed for when they eventually had to sleep. Where he kept his stuff and such. He stayed there until the sounds of the TARDIS started up and he knew they were taking off and headed for the next adventure.

Only one thing bothered him now: how long could he keep knowing the Doctor's past quiet now? After everything that had happened was beginning to add up... how long would it be before the Doctor put it together? Or someone else?

Y/n was running out of time.

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