#minerva minty | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

saiilorstars · 1 year

Text

Chapter 24: The Honorable Ladies Souzas

Fandom: Doctor Who

Current Masterlist || Previous Story

Taglist: @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @foxesandmagic @kmc1989

If you’d like to be a part of this OC’s work/edits, let me know!

The Doctor stepped out of a grocery store holding a rather large chocolate egg in his hands, minty fresh of course, for his—

He scrunched up his face at the water that practically smacked him in the face.

"Sorry!" He heard Minerva's cry right after. He lightly sighed as he patted his face dry with a cloth from his pocket. Minerva quickly reached him with an apologetic face that he frankly couldn't ignore. "Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! I was just trying to practice again and then...well..." she made a face as she patted his cheeks, "...on the bright side I finally got my 2 seconds to turn into two minutes?" She gave a small, nervous smile.

"Which means I'm proud of you," the Doctor declared and placed a kiss on her lips.

"Yeah? Cause Zohar says I'm behind. Donna's practically mastered the snow by now! She's moving onto the ice!"

"Everyone has their own pace, dear. Plus, Donna isn't also learning how to raise up a kingdom, how to form relationships with other planets' leaders and she isn't learning about all of time and space at the same time."

"But still, I'm the princess and I still can't hold water for five minutes. And I can't even activate my ice and snow. It's a bit disappointing to my grandfather..."

"To be fair, he's gotten a lot more difficult to impress lately," the Doctor sighed, "The only thing he's going to be happy about is the day you tell him you've finally left me."

"Never," she declared dead serious, "I told him on the day of our wedding this was final. You and I forever, always together. It'll take him some time but he'll eventually have to accept it, I'm married now."

"And what lovely time it's been so far," he Eskimo kissed her, making her giggle.

"Oh yes," she linked arms with him and began walking down the London night street with her husband, "Still feels like yesterday we married...actually, it still feels like our wedding night..." she admitted with a blush as she looked to the side.

"What? You're telling me that's not how the first four months as a married couple is supposed to feel?" the Doctor looked at her with a teasing face, though he also sported his own blush.

"Oh shut up," she playfully hit his arm with her free hand, "And eat your chocolate instead."

"What ever you wish, wife," he smirked as he began unwrapping his chocolate.

~ 0 ~

Not too far away from the couple, a woman with long black hair and brown eyes was running down the night streets carrying a heavy backpack. She looked back as a police detective was hot on her tail along with several other policemen. She noticed a bus not too far ahead and quickly ran for it, the detective seeing her and running after her.

She jumped inside the bus and gave a small smile to the bus driver, "Hello. I'm so terribly sorry. That card paying device thing, that's a Lobster card, am I right?"

"Oyster card," the driver gave her an odd look.

"Ah, well, that's the problem, you see. I only use my Oyster when there's an R in the month."

"It's April," the driver reminded.

The woman sighed with no patience. She took her earrings off and held them to the driver, "Diamonds. Genuine," she dropped them into his palm, "Drive!"

"Works for me," the driver shrugged.

The woman quickly hurried down the bus and sat down at the first open seat by the window. Before the bus shut its doors a lovely couple entered and the woman swiped a card.

"You're just in time," the driver remarked.

"Thank you!" she called to the driver as they continued through the bus. With the sudden start of the bus, the pair fell to different sides of the bus, "No, thank you!" the woman called as she sat up and saw her husband across her, "You okay?"

The Doctor looked down at the chocolate egg in his hands and grinned, "Yes!" he looked over to the woman that sat beside him, "Sorry about that, by the way."

"It's fine," the woman mumbled, waving him off.

"I'm the Doctor! That's my wife, Minerva! Happy Easter!"

"The chocolate is minty by the way," Minerva added with a grin, "It's really good. Glad you were able to actually land us on Easter," she looked at the Doctor, "Maybe getting rid of that hammer actually improved your piloting."

He mock-glared at the Clever Girl. "I still can't believe you actually did that."

Minerva had actually chucked his hammer out into outer space! Granted she had warned him of her intention two minutes before she'd actually done it. He thought she'd been kidding...

...she had not been kidding.

"I promised the old girl," Minerva shrugged and looked at the woman beside the Doctor, "I'm sorry. You shouldn't hear a lousy disagreement, it's Easter!"

"Funny thing is, I don't often do Easter," the Doctor admitted then smiled at Minerva, all disagreements forgotten, "Perhaps now that I have a wife with excellent human memories, I'll start having Easter more often," Minerva silently smiled back, "Although I never could find it, it's always at a different time. Although I remember the original. Between you and me, what really happened was... "

A beeping sound interrupted him and so he quickly handed the chocolate egg to the woman beside him while he reached into his pocket, "Oh, sorry, hold on to that for us. Actually, go on, have it, finish it."

"Hey!" Minerva frowned upon seeing their chocolate I'm the hands of another woman, "I still wanted it!"

"It's full of sugar," he declared, "You're energetic enough and I'm determined to keep these teeth," he bared his teeth to her.

"Funny, cause you didn't seem to have that problem with me last night," she shot him a smirk when he blushed.

"Anyways..." he quickly looked down as he pulled out the gadget he'd been searching for in his pocket, "Ah! Oh, we've got excitation!" he shook it and garnered an odd look from another passenger behind, "I'm picking up something very strange."

"I know the feeling," the black-haired woman gave him a quick glance, actually hoping he'd go sit with that wife of his and leave her out of whatever that gadget was all about.

"Rhondium particles, that's what we're looking for," the Doctor began to explain to the black-haired woman since Minerva knew all about it. Minerva could see the woman had no interest in the Doctor's words but Minerva kept quiet for the Doctor's sake, and because he looked so adorable rambling on, "This thing detects them," the Doctor was tapping the gadget in his hands, "The little dish should go round, that little dish there...

"Right now, a way out would come in pretty handy. Can you detect me one of those?" the black-haired woman finally spoke up in a normal tone.

Behind the trio was another couple where the woman seemed nervous as she looked to her husband, "Lou, can you hear them?"

"Hear what, sweetheart?" Lou asked, sensing her nervousness rising.

"The voices. So many voices. Calling to us. Calling so far."

"Oh, the little dish is going round!" the Doctor exclaimed, "Look Minerva."

She smiled and nodded, "Yup. Oh, but..." the dish started spinning until a part of the gadget exploded, "I don't think it's supposed to do that.."

"Excuse me. Do you mind?" a blonde woman behind them gave both a sharp look, irritated with the commotion.

The Doctor stood up, "Sorry. That was my little dish."

"Can't you turn that thing off?" the black-haired woman asked

"What was your name?" he looked at her for a second.

"Christina."

"Christina, hold on tight," he told a seat beside Minerva ad wound an arm around her waist while the other hand held onto the handle, "Everyone, hold on!"

The bus lurched and shook, making the passengers scream and jerk forwards. The Doctor fell to the floor with Minerva unfortunately.

"The voices! Oh, the voices, they're screaming!" Lou's wife cried.

One of the bus windows shattered and sparks flew from the overhead wires. A young man toppled down the stairs from the upper deck and shouted as soon as he could, "What's going on?!"

With a blinding light, the rest of the windows started shattering. A couple minutes later, the Doctor opened his eyes to find the wrecked bus and the sunlight that streamed through the window, that had definitely not been there a couple minutes ago!

"Oh, it is hot" Minerva groaned as she sat up.

"Are you alright!?" he quickly turned to her, "Is it too much!?"

She shooed his hands off her as they stood up, "A bit of a new heat, but..." she looked around, seeing the endless sand hills that was now their new environment, "...manageable."

He sighed in relief, it seemed that the adaptation was going just fine for his Clever Girl. It was a fact that she, unlike the rest of the Moontsays except Zohar, could withstand much higher levels of heat. However, that didn't mean she was easily resistant to all types of heat. So, the Doctor had made it his job to slowly introduce her to those other heat levels little by little. It was a work of patience and even if he really had none, he magically garnered extremely high levels of it when it came to Minerva. It seemed like it was all paying off seeing how she was taking the new desert they were in.

The pair moved to the doors and opened it up to look at the desert, "End of the line," the Doctor declared as he stepped out, taking Minerva by the waist and pulling her down, "Call it a hunch, but I think we've gone a little bit further than Brixton."

The other passengers slowly started coming out of the bus where they took observation of their bus and environment. The bus's tip deck was crushed with smoke wafting from it. Apart from that, it seemed lie they were the only ones around.

Minerva watched the Doctor laying on the ground letting the sand sift through his fingers. She really didn't know what he was trying to accomplish. The sand was just...sand. She supposed this was one of the lessons he was yet to teach her. She'd been learning a lot faster now that she wasn't human anymore, but it wasn't like she was a genius either. Even with a fast pace the universe was vast and had many complicated things about it that simply didn't stick in her head.

"That's impossible. There are three suns. Three of them!" A blonde woman exclaimed, horrified at the sight in the sky.

"Like when all those planets were up in the sky!" a second young man added.

"But it was Earth that moved back then, wasn't it?" the first young man asked.

"Oh, man, we're on another world!"

"It's still intact, though! Not as bad as it looks," the bus driver was studying the bus, "The chassis's still holding together. Oh, my boss is gonna murder me!"

"Can we please desist of the word 'murder', please?" Minerva had looked back with a displeased face. That word was still sensitive to her and she didn't wanted to hear it any more.

"Can you still drive it?" the blonde woman asked the driver.

"Oh, no, the wheels are stuck. Look at them, they're never gonna budge," the driver gestured to the tires that were deep inside the sand.

Christina took off her jacket once she felt the desert heat and put on some black sunglasses, "Ready for every emergency."

The Doctor and Minerva looked back and saw the woman with her sunglasses. The Doctor took off his own glasses and used the sonic to tint them then promptly put then back on, "Me too!" he cast a concerned look at Minerva, "Would you like some, dear?"

"No," she declared rather fast, "I wanna get used to this kind of heat. Eyes too," she pointed at them.

"And what's your names?" Christina asked them.

"Minerva," the brunette raised a finger.

"I'm the Doctor."

"Name, not rank," Christina gave him a sharp look.

"The Doctor."

"Surname?"

"The Doctor."

"You're called 'the Doctor'?"

"Yes, I am."

"That's not a name, that's a psychological condition."

Minerva snickered. "That is the most underrated line of your life!" she looked down at the Doctor.

He mock-glared at her for a minute then returned to the sand, "Funny sort of sand, this. There's a trace of something else," he put some of the sand on the tip of his tongue to 'taste' it then crinkled his face, "Blah, that's not good."

"That's sand," Minerva frowned and made a distasteful face, "And this is me...stepping away from your mouth."

Quietly, the Doctor scoffed and mumbled: "That won't last long."

"What was that?"

"Nothing, dear," he flashed a small smile.

Minerva rolled her eyes, "You walk on thin land, Martian. Why don't we get back to business? What, I dare to ask, did that sand taste?"

At that, the Doctor's sense of playfulness faded. He really would rather not answer that and really scare her, "Nothing important," he dismissed the question, avoiding the questioning look she was giving him.

The rest of the passengers started coming over, one person singled out already as the culprit, "Hold on a minute, I saw you, mate! You had that thing, that machine. Did you make this happen?" one of the young men had a pointing fingers at the Doctor.

"Oh, humans on buses, always blaming me," the Doctor mumbled, not even surprised anymore, "If you must know, we were was tracking a hole in the fabric of reality. Call it a hobby. But it was a tiny little hole, no danger to anyone. Suddenly it gets big, and we drive right through it."

"But then where is it? There's nothing, there's just sand!" the driver gestured to the surroundings.

"All right. If you want proof," the Doctor reached down for some sand, "We drove through this," he threw the sand at the space behind the bus to real a swirling vortex that quickly disappeared as fast as it had appeared.

"And that was?" Christina stared where the Vortex was.

"A door in space!" Minerva exclaimed excitedly, quickly realizing the other may not have been as excited to know that information.

"So what you're saying is, on the other side of that is home? We can get to London through there?" the bus driver asked

"The bus came through, but we can't," the Doctor answered but apparently ignored.

"Well, then what are we waiting for?" the bus driver looked at the other passengers.

"Oh, no, don't," the Doctor tried calling but the man wouldn't listen.

The driver headed for the portal, "I'm going home, mate!"

"I said don't!"

The driver headed into the portal and screamed as his body caught fire.

"He was a skeleton, man! He was bones, just bones!" one of the young men cried.

Minerva walked back to the bus, observing its state, "It was the bus that kept us safe, right?" she looked at the Doctor who had moved up beside her, "It protected us, right?" he smiled and nodded before kissing her head, making her beam she'd gotten another thing right.

"Rather like a Faraday cage?" Christina walked over, staying by the entrance of the bus.

"Like in a thunderstorm, yeah?" one of the young men asked, "Safest place is inside a car, cos the metal conducts the lightning right through. We did it in school."

"But if we can only travel back inside the bus...a Faraday cage needs to be closed. That thing's been ripped wide open," Christina looked at the top of the bus.

"Slightly different dynamics with a wormhole. There's enough metal to make it work, I think. I hope," the Doctor made a face as he also looked over the bus.

"Then we have to drive five tonnes of bus, which is currently buried in the sand, and we've got nothing but our bare hands. Correct?"

"I'd say nine and a half tonners..." the Doctor trailed off

Minerva peered around him with a polite smile, "But he means you're correct."

"Then we need to apply ourselves to the problem with discipline! Which starts with appointing a leader."

"Yes, at last, thank you, so..." the Doctor turned to the group...when Christina took over.

"Well, thank goodness you've got me! Everyone do exactly as I say! Inside the bus immediately!" she motioned for everyone to get on inside.

"Is it safe in there?" one of the young men asked.

"I don't think anything's safe any more, but if it's a choice between baking in there or roasting out here, I'd say baking is slower. Come on! All of you. Right now! And you. 'The Doctor'," Christina eyed him before stepping inside.

Minerva giggled at the face her Martian was making and moved in front of him, "Is someone upset their dominance is being threatened?"

He looked at her with a mock-glare and pointed, "Shush."

She rolled her eyes and pulled him inside the bus, "C'mon, Martian."

~ 0 ~

Christina was busy giving her speech to the other passengers, declaring herself as the leader of the far, neither the Doctor nor Minerva had argued against it. She seemed fine and, at the end of the day, she had the same goals as the rest of them. Getting home was pivotal.

"Point five, the crucial thing is, do not panic. Quite apart from anything else, the smell of sweat inside this thing is reaching atrocious levels," Christina said, still grimacing. "We don't need to add any more. Point six. Team identification. Names. I'm Christina, this man is apparently 'the Doctor' and that is Minerva," she gestured to each of the pair.

"Hello," Minerva wiggled her fingers at the group.

"And you?" Christina turned to one of the young men.

"Nathan," he waved.

"I'm Barclay."

"Angela, Angela Whittaker," the blonde female went next

"My name's Louis, everyone calls me Lou, and this is Carmen," the third man gestured to his wife beside him.

"Excellent. Memorize those names. There might be a test. Point seven, assessment and application of knowledge. Over to you, the Doctor," Christina pointed to the man.

"I thought you were in charge," the Doctor made a face, confused for a minute.

"I am. And a good leader utilizes her strength. You seem to be the brainbox. So, start boxing."

He shrugged and moved to sit on the back of his seat, facing the rest of the group, "Right. So, the wormhole. We were in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was just an accident."

"No, it wasn't. That thing, the doorway. Someone made it. For a reason," Carmen cut in.

"How do you know that?" Minerva asked, curious.

"She's got a gift. Ever since she was a little girl, she can just... tell things. We do the lottery, twice a week," Lou explained.

"You don't look like millionaires," Christina remarked.

"No, but we win ten pounds. Every week, twice a week, ten pounds. Don't tell me that's not a gift!"

The Doctor hid three fingers behind his back as he moved up to Carmen, "Tell me, Carmen. How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Three," Carmen replied and when the Doctor added another finger behind his back, she spoke again, "Four."

"Very good! Low level psychic ability, exacerbated by an alien sun," the Doctor sat down across her, "What can you see, Carmen? Tell me. What's out there?"

"Something... Something is coming. Riding on the wind. And shining."

"What is it?"

"Death. Death is coming."

Angela began weeping at the words, "We're going to die."

"I knew it, man, I said so," Barclay shook his head.

"We can't die out here. No-one's gonna find us," Nathan looked out to the endless sand.

The passengers started talking all at once, all sharing the same fear.

"This isn't exactly helping," Christina rubbed her temples.

"Shut up, we're not your soldiers," Barclay snapped.

"It's not doing any good..." Nathan said.

"You're upsetting her, be quiet!" Lou exclaimed.

"Will we be bones, like the bus driver?!" Nathan cried.

"Hey, STOP IT!" Minerva shouted, her voice above all the others. She stood in the center of the bus with her hands on her hips, "God I really miss my whistling abilities," she mumbled to herself.

The only sound new heard in the bus was Angela's quiet weeping. The Doctor moved to stand in front of her, gripping her shoulders, "Angela, look at me. Angela, Angela, answer me one question, Angela. That's it, at me, at me," she stopped crying to look up at him, "There we go, Angela, just answer me one thing. When you got on this bus, where were you going?"

"Doesn't matter now, does it?"

"It does matter this time," Minerva gave a small smile and moved beside them, "So just answer the question."

"Just home..." Angela answered

"And what's home?" the Doctor asked her.

"Me, and Mike and Suzanne, that's my daughter. She's 18."

"Brilliant age," Minerva remarked and patted Angela's shoulder. She looked over to the others, seeing them still uneasy, "What about you, Barclay? What was going on tonight?"

"Dunno. Going round Tina's," he shrugged, sighing.

"Who's Tina? Your girlfriend?" the Doctor looked back.

"Not yet..." Barclay smiled a bit mischievously.

"Good boy. May I suggest you not waste time, it's a very precious thing," the Doctor smiled softly as he glanced back at Minerva.

She blushed under his gaze and looked at Nathan instead, "What about you, Nathan?"

"Bit strapped for cash, I lost my job last week. I was gonna stay in. Watch TV."

"Brilliant. And you two?" the Doctor called to pair at the back of the bus.

"I was going to cook," Lou replied first.

"It's his turn tonight. Then I clear up," Carmen added.

"What's for tea?"

"Chops. Nice couple of chops and gravy. Nothing special," Lou said.

"I think if you're eating together and happy, then it's very special," Minerva corrected, "I know it's special to me when I eat with my Martian."

"The brownies are my favorite part," the Doctor admitted with an excited grin, "So it is very special, Lou, Carmen."

"What about you, Christina?" Minerva looked back at the black-haired woman who had been oddly quiet for the moment.

"I was going... so far away..." she answered absently.

"Far away. Chops and gravy. Watching TV. Mike and Suzanne and poor old Tina," the Doctor shrugged as Barclay gave him a sharp look.

"Hey!"

"He's kidding," Minerva apologetically smiled at Barclay then promptly smacked the Doctor upside the head, "Stop being rude to people!"

"Sorry, dear," he mumbled and rubbed the back of his head, "Alright, back to the point: just think of them and what your plans were for tonight. 'Cos that planet out there, all three suns and wormholes and alien sand, that planet is nothing. You hear me? Nothing compared to all those things waiting for you. Food and home and people. Hold on to that. Cos we're gonna get there. I promise. I'm gonna get you home."

"We're going to get you all home," Minerva corrected the passengers and clarified to the Doctor. She would have no more of this 'he saving the world', no. They were married now and as such she would stand by him in all situations that affected them: together.

~ 0 ~

Barclay and Nathan were coming out of the bus holding seat cushions where the Doctor and Minerva met up with them, "Here we go! That's my boys! We lay a flat surface between the bus and the wormhole, like duckboards, and reverse into it!"

"Let some air out of the tires, just a little bit. Spreads the weight of the bus, gives you more grip," Christina joined them.

"Oh, that's good," Minerva remarked.

"Holidays in the Kalahari."

"Yeah, but those wheels go deep," Barclay reminded.

"Then start digging," Christina shrugged.

"With what?"

"With this," Christina reached into her bag and pulled out a folding shovel.

"Wow, got anything else in there?" Minerva blinked as the Doctor took the shovel and opened it then handed it to Barclay.

"Try that, might help with the seats," Christina handed a small axe.

"Thanks!" Nathan took the axe and headed back to the bus.

"I can't find the keys!" they heard Angela from the inside of the bus.

"Buses don't have keys!" Minerva half-shouted as she poked her head inside the bus, "I saw that when I used to travel. There's this master switch, one button for start, the other one for stop, yeah?"

Angela, sitting in the driver's seat, checked for the button, "Hold on, oh, I've got it," she flicked a switch, "Here we go, hold tight, ding ding!"

"Clever one you are," the Doctor neared Minerva from behind and kissed her head.

"It's not clever, it's observation," she corrected.

Angela had pressed the button but the engine spluttered for a second then died.

"Oh, that doesn't sound too good," the Doctor took Minerva and himself over to the engine and took a look, "Oh! Never mind losing half the top deck, you know what's worse? Sand. Tiny little grains of sand. The engine's clogged up."

Christina walked around to where Barclay and Nathan worked on the wheels, "Anyone know mechanics?"

"Me!" Barclay stood up, "I did a two-week NVQ at the garage. Never finished it, but..."

"Well come on!" Minerva called, "Let's see how much you learned!"

"Try stripping the air filter, fast as you can," the Doctor took Minerva's hand and started heading away towards the dunes, "Back in two ticks."

"Wait a minute!" Christina called after them and quickly hurried to follow, "You're the man and woman with all the answers. I'm not letting you out of my sight."

~ 0 ~

Minerva passed a hand through her hair, feeling slightly enclosed with the heat as she walked through the desert. She could take it, she knew it...but it wasn't going to be easy. She shrugged her elbows to try and lift off a piece of hair for at least a second. Then, she'd run her hand through it just to lift off her shoulders once more. She had even discarded her gray sweater in the middle of the desert, ignoring the Doctor's suggestion to simply hand it over where he could keep it safe. She was determined to make this work, she would not give up at the first real struggle of heat, no sir.

"Do you happen to have something for hair inside that bag of yours?" she settled for asking Christina for a bit of help, but only for a bit. At the first sign of genuine help the Doctor was sure to overreact and quickly send her back to the bus where it was slightly less hot.

Christina nodded and reached for one of the backpack's smaller pockets in front and took out a black scrunchie, "Ever thought of just cutting it?"

"NO..." Minerva made a horrific expression that made Christina laugh.

"Asking her to do that is like asking her to stop breathing," the Doctor casually remarked.

"Really?" Christina raised an eyebrow, making it sound like it was ridiculous, but to her it really was.

"Thank you," Minerva took the scrunchie from Christina and proceeded to pick up her hair, "Let me make a comparison to you, Christina, that'll make you understand the value: asking me to cut my hair is like me asking you to leave that backpack behind."

"No, no, this goes where I go," she pointed to the backpack, playfully rolling her eyes at the look Minerva was giving her, "Yeah, fine, I get it now."

Minerva chuckled as she fixed the last part of her ponytail, "Knew it would work. I'm clever like that, you know."

"My clever wife," the Doctor remarked, wounding an arm around her waist.

"You two are married?" Christina blinked, surprised, "Really?"

"Why do you say it like that?" Minerva raised an eyebrow, not offended simply curious of the reaction.

"Just didn't strike me as the married couple. I can see it Carmen and Lou, but...not you two..." she eyed the pair to see if she could be wrong but simply did not see the picture 'happy married' couple.

"Well, to be fair, you didn't strike me as a woman who's afraid of sirens," the Doctor gave her a sharp look, "Just who are you?"

"As much of a mystery as you two are," Christina countered.

"We're not mysteries," Minerva corrected, "We're just a pair of travelers, that's all."

"Let's just leave it as mysteries, shall we?"

Minerva shrugged and gave up.

"So why not tell me about Carmen's prediction?" Christina asked, "If that wormhole's not an accident, then what is it? Has someone done this on purpose?"

"I don't know," the Doctor answered as they stopped walking, "But every single instinct of mine is telling me to get off this planet, right now."

"And do you think we can?"

"We live in hope, it's kind of our thing," Minerva informed casually, "But I know we'll get out of this, just like we always do."

"That must be nice..." Christina paused and eyed the two before holding her hand out to the, "It's Christina de Souza. To be precise, Lady Christina de Souza."

"Hey! We're cousins," Minerva laughed as she shook Christina's hand, "Minerva Souza, get it? Only I'm not a Lady..."

"You very well can be, you're a princess after all," the Doctor corrected as he shook Christina's hand, "And I'm a Lord."

"Princess of what? And Lord of what?" Christina raised an eyebrow.

"Quite a big estate," Minerva answered, "For both of us..."

"No, but there's something more about you," Christina looked at the Doctor suddenly, "That device you were carrying, and the wormhole. Like you knew. And the way you stride around this place, like..."

"Like?" the Doctor asked.

"Like you're not quite..."

"Anyway! Come on! Allons-y!" the Doctor continued on with Minerva, the brunette groaning as they did.

"What have I said about that word?"

"That it was very adorable when I said it," he smirked.

"Shut up," she playfully rolled her eyes.

They stopped on a high dune that looked to the horizon where they could ahead in a distance the sky was becoming grayer and grayer.

"Ah. Don't like the look of that," the Doctor said.

Christina shaded her eyes, "Storm clouds. Must be hundreds of miles away."

"But it's getting closer," Minerva frowned.

"If that's a sand storm, we'll get ripped to shreds," Christina said.

"It's a storm. Who says it's sand?" the Doctor challenged, all three immediately running back.

~ 0 ~

Lou and Carmen were still sitting in the bus, Carmen with her eyes closed and mumbling: "Closer... and closer and closer..."

The Doctor hurried inside the bus with Minerva, Christina and Barclay behind him, "Where is it?"

"There, there on the seat," Barclay pointed to his seat where his cellphone laid in.

"You're hardly going to get a signal, we're on another planet!" Christina exclaimed.

"Oh, just watch me. Right, now, bit of hush, thank you," the Doctor started dialing on the phone, "Gotta remember the number, very important number."

"Hello, Pizza Geronimo?" they heard a man on the other line answer as the phone was on speaker.

"Pizza is an important number?" Minerva raised an eyebrow.

"Shush," the Doctor pointed as he hung up and redialed, "Seven-six, not six-seven..."

"This is the Unified Intelligence Taskforce. Please select one of the following four options," a new voice answered.

"Oh, I hate these things!" the Doctor exclaimed, noticing how pale Minerva had gotten once the phone had been answered again.

Minerva was severely uncomfortable with UNIT, despite being the place her best friend worked at. To say the word 'uncomfortable' wouldn't even cover half of her feelings towards the place...terror described it perfectly. Now that she knew who she was and what UNIT could've done to her if they had figured out her actual origin before her...well...she'd had some pretty bad nightmares that would describe it. She knew UNIT had closed their investigation on her and left in the dark but it didn't stop her fear that one day someone new in the place would pick up the file and re-open the case. The Doctor had tried numerous times to remind her that he was still working for them (in technical terms) and that he would never allow UNIT to lay even a finger on her. Plus, he was actually on good terms with UNIT nowadays and just by that relationship the two shared, Minerva wouldn't be harmed. He just needed to prove that to her, perhaps today could be the day...

"No, if you keep your finger pressed on zero, you get through to a real person," Angela suggested to the Doctor, "I saw it on Watchdog!"

"Thank you, Angela," the Doctor sat down and reached for Minerva's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze to let her know he was here and she would be okay.

"UNIT helpline, which department would you like?" a new woman's voice answered the other line.

"Listen, it's the Doctor! It's me!"

~ 0 ~

A soldier approached the captain with a mobile, "Captain! Urgent call, ma'am, relayed direct from HQ."

"Who is it?" the captain asked.

"It's him, ma'am. It's the Doctor."

The captain took the cellphone and spoke through it, "Doctor. This is Captain Erisa Magambo," she saluted, "Might I say, sir, it's an honor."

~ 0 ~

The Doctor made a face, "Did you just salute?"

"...no."

"Erisa, it's about the bus. HQ said you're at the tunnel, yeah?"

"And where are you?"

"I'm on the bus. But apart from that, not a clue," the Doctor looked out the window, "Except it's very pretty and pretty dangerous."

"A body came through here. Have you sustained any more fatalities?"

"No, and we're not going to. But I'm stuck. I haven't got the Tardis, and I need to analyse that wormhole."

"We have a scientific advisor on site, Dr Malcolm Taylor..."

~ 0 ~

Erisa was entering a mobile physics lab filled with electronic equipment. Malcolm, an older man wearing glasses and a white lab coat sat in the midst of the place.

"Just the man you need, he's a genius," Erisa said.

"Oh, is he? We'll see about that," the Doctor said, over the speaker phone as well.

"Don't be rude!" Minerva's voice came afterwards.

"Here's the Doctor," Erisa told Malcolm as she shut the door.

"No, I'm all right now, thanks. It was just a bit of a sore throat, although I've got to be honest, a cup of tea might be nice," Malcolm cluelessly said.

"No, it's the Doctor."

"Do you mean... "the Doctor" Doctor?!" Malcolm nearly gasped.

"I know. We all want to meet him one day, but we all know what that day will bring," Erisa mumbled.

"I can hear everything you're saying," the Doctor reminded.

Malcolm incredulously upon hearing the Doctor's voice, "Hello, Doctor? Oh, my goodness!"

"Yes, I am. Hello, Malcolm!"

Malcolm chuckled, "The Doctor! Cor blimey. I can't believe I'm actually speaking to you! I mean, I've read all the files!"

~ 0 ~

Minerva mindlessly bit her nails as the Doctor spoke on the phone through...UNIT. The man, Malcolm, sounded very nice, cheerful even, but that didn't change the fact he worked for UNIT...the institution that had wanted to seize her as human...it terrified her.

"Really? What was your favorite, the giant robot? No, no hold on, let's sort out that wormhole," the Doctor shook his head and stood up, 'Scuse me," he took Minerva's hand and led them to the front of the bus, needing her to see he wouldn't let go of her for one moment when UNIT was involved. He plopped down on the driver's seat, pulling Minerva down to his lap. He gave her a kiss on her temple and wound his arm around her waist, "Malcolm, something's not making sense here. I've got a storm and a wormhole, and I can't help thinking there's a connection. I need a complete full-range analysis of that wormhole, the whole thing," he ordered.

"I've probably got the wrong idea, but I've wired up an integrator. I thought it could measure the energy signature," Malcolm said.

"No, that'll never work. Just listen to me."

"It's quite extraordinary, though! I'm measuring an oscillation of 15 Malcolms per second."

"Fifteen what?" the Doctor blinked.

"Fifteen Malcolms. It's my own little term. A wavelength parcel of ten kilohertz operating in four dimensions equals one Malcolm."

"You named a unit of measurement after yourself?"

"It didn't do Mr Watt any harm. Furthermore, 100 Malcolms equals a Bernard."

"And who's that, your dad?"

"Don't be ridiculous, that's Quatermass."

"Right. Fine. But before I die of old age, which in my case would be quite an achievement, so congratulations on that, is there anyone else I can talk to?" the Doctor felt a small chuckle escape his wife and beamed, "Actually, no, stay on the line, you're doing someone very important to me good," he smiled at Minerva.

"Um...okay," Malcolm slowly said, confused, "I set the scanner to register what it can't detect and inverted the image."

"You did what?"

"Is that wrong?"

" No, Malcolm, that's brilliant! So you can actually measure the wormhole. OK, I admit, that is genius!"

~ 0 ~

"The Doctor called me a genius," Malcolm excitedly looked at Erisa beside him.

"I know, I heard," Erisa nodded.

"Now, run a capacity scan. I need a full report. Call me back when you've done it. And Malcolm? You're my new best friend-well, no, my wife's my first best friend but you can be the second."

"Uh, you're mine too, sir," Malcolm said before the phone call ended. Confused, he looked over to Erisa, "The Doctor has a wife?"

"That can't be right..." Erisa thought for a moment on it, "...there was nothing in the files..." she mumbled as she started heading out, confused.

~ 0 ~

"Barclay, I'm holding on to this," the Doctor waved the man's phone as he and Minerva stood up.

"Then you'd better bring it back!" Barclay warned as the two went out, Christina once again hurrying to catch up.

~ 0 ~

"Send this back to Earth, see if Malcolm can analyse the storm," the Doctor held up the phone high up to take a picture.

"There's something in those clouds, something shining. Look..." Christina pointed.

"That looks like metal," Minerva tilted her head, the Doctor taking a picture with the phone.

"Why would there be metal in a storm?" Christina frowned.

"We never did say it was sand..." Minerva mumbled.

While the Doctor snapped more pictures, Christina heard the sound of chirruping. "Did you hear something?"

"Hold on. Busy..." the Doctor replied, turning.

"Well, Minerva? Did you hear it too?" Christina tried as she looked around.

"A bit, yeah," the brunette nodded.

Christina's eyes widened when she saw an insectoid creature watching them, "Doctor, Minerva..."

The creature approached the trio with a weapon in its hand and began to speak, more like click. The Doctor answered back in its language, "That's 'wait'. I shout 'wait', people usually wait."

"You speak the language?" Christina looked up at the man with wide eyes.

"Every language, actually," Minerva smiled in amusement as her Martian and the creature spoke.

"That's begging for mercy," he informed the women.

The creature motioned with its gun.

"And that means 'move'," Minerva pointed.

"Ooh! You're learning. Clever you are!"

Minerva chuckled, "Nope, it's just how it usually goes with us," he made a face and agreed.

The creature marched the trio off in front of it.

"These fly things, they must be responsible. They brought us here," Christina said as they arrived at the creature's crashed ship.

"No, no, no, no, no! Look at the ship, it's a wreck. They crashed, just like us," the Doctor pointed at the half-destroyed ship on the sand.

~ 0 ~

The interior of the alien ship was no better than the outside. It had the appearance of ongoing construction with wires and electronics left all over the place.

"But this place is freezing!" Christina shivered.

Minerva loudly sighed in relief of the lower temperature they were now in. She didn't want to admit it but the new climate change outside was more than she could handle at the moment.

"You okay?" the Doctor turned to her with concern.

"Now I am," she nodded with a dim smile.

"Why's it so cold?" Christina asked while rubbing her arms in an attempt to regain some of her heat.

"The hull's made of Photafine steel," the Doctor answered her, "Turns cold when it's hot. Boiling desert outside, freezing ship inside."

"Since we met you, Christina, we've been through all the extremes!" Minerva remarked playfully.

"That's how I like things. Extreme," the black-haired woman nodded firmly.

"Oh, this is beautiful! Intact, it must have been magnificent. A proper streamlined deep-spacer!" the Doctor looked arund with intrigue.

"I'll remember that as I'm being slowly tortured," Christina mock-glared, "At least I'm bleeding on the floor of a really well-designed spaceship!"

A second creature joined the group and touched its device attached to its clothes.

The Doctor noticed it and nodded, "Oh, right, good, yes, hello! That's a telepathic translator. He can understand us."

"Still sounds like gibberish to me," Christina remarked.

"It doesn't seem to work the other way around, though," Minerva observed, "What does he say, Doctor?" she looked at him.

"Um, "You will suffer for your crimes." Et cetera. "You have committed an act of violence against the Tritovore race," he translated then looked at both women, "Tritovores, they're called Tritovores. And they say "You came here in the 200 to destroy us." Sorry, what's the 200?"

"It's the bus. Number 200, they mean the bus," Christina reminded.

"Oh! No, look, I think you're making the same mistake Christina did," he gestured to himself, "I'm the Doctor, by the way, and this is my wife, Minerva and our friend Christina, the Honorable Lady Christina, at least we hope she's honorable! But we got pulled through that wormhole. The 200 doesn't look like that normally. It's broken, just the same as you."

The Tritivores spoke to each other and lowered their guns.

"What are they doing?" Christina asked at the motion.

"They believed him," Minerva guessed.

"What, as simple as that?"

"I've got a very honest face. And the translator says I'm telling the truth. Plus, the face," the Doctor flashed a cheeky grin, "Right! So, first things first, there's a very strange storm heading our way, can you send out a probe?" he made his way to a control panel with Minerva, followed by the Tritivore with the translator as it spoke to them, "Ah, they've lost power. Hmm, the crash knocked the mainline crystallography out of sync. But if I can jiggle it back..." the Doctor kicked the panel and the power came back, " I thank you!" the creature chittered, "Yes, I am! Frequently. Okie-dokie, let's launch that probe."

The trio watched the picture they garnered from the probe as a hologram projection in front of them.

"Oh! This is the Scorpion Nebula, right!?" Minerva exclaimed excitedly as she looked at the Doctor for confirmation.

He smiled softly and nodded, "You got it, dear."

She beamed, "Yes! My lessons are paying off," she looked at Christina who had been looking in amusement, "We're on the other side of the universe, Christina. Just what you wanted, so far away. This is the planet of San Helios."

"Correct, correct, correct," the Doctor kissed her head, happy she was beginning to gain more knowledge after her months of learning.

"And that's us? We're on another world," Christina looked at the projection with awe.

"We have been for quite a while," Minerva said.

"I know, but seeing it like that..."

"It's good, isn't it?" the Doctor asked, knowing the feeling the woman had to be feeling.

"Wonderful," Christina smiled.

The Tritivores started telling their story to the trio, only the Doctor understanding what was being said.

"The Tritovores were going to trade with San Helios. Population of one hundred billion. Plenty of waste matter for them to absorb," the Doctor explained.

"By waste matter, you mean?" Christina crinkled her nose, half-guessing what he was trying to say.

"They feed off what others leave behind. From their... behind," the Doctor clarified, "If you see what I mean. It's perfectly natural. They are flies."

"Charming. Just remind me never to kiss them," Christina mumbled.

Minerva was watching the projection show a thriving city with trees and green parks, "Well this is quite beautiful," she remarked, "San Helios City."

"That's amazing. But you've seen this sort of thing before, haven't you?" Christina looked at the pair.

"Thousands of times," the Doctor nodded.

"That Lordship of yours... The Lord of where, exactly?" Christina asked, suddenly intrigued, "And you said Princess," she looked at Minerva, "Princess of what?"

"Of Time. I come from a race of people called Time Lords," the Doctor answered first.

"Princess of the Silver Monsoon," Minerva offhandedly replied, "Water-based race - well, part of his," she jerked a thumb at the Doctor.

"So you're both...aliens?" Christina looked from one another, as if searching for anything that would back up their statements.

"Yeah. But you don't have to kiss us either," the Doctor mumbled, "Don't you dare," he subconsciously pulled Minerva closer to his side.

"But you both look human..."

"Well technically, you—" Minerva pointed at herself and Christina, "—look Time Lord. Our races came first."

"But anyways, back to the point," the Doctor reminded to the projection.

"So if that's San Helios, all we need to do is find that city. They can help us!" Christina exclaimed.

"But that's the problem," Minerva looked at the projection as it changed to the desert they were in now, "This is the city..."

"But it's sand! That first image, the temples and things, what's that, then? Ancient history?"

One of the Tritovores chirruped and so the Doctor translated, "The image was taken last year."

"It became a desert in one year?" Minerva frowned.

"I said there was something in the sand," he bent down and let the sand fall through his fingers.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Minerva asked.

He looked up with a bit of guilt, "It would've scared you."

"It would not have..." she shifted as she took notice of all the sand, "...a lot..."

He just sighed as if that proved his point, "It's the city, the oceans, the mountains, the wildlife and 100 billion people, turned to sand. All those voices in Carmen's head. She's hearing them die."

"But I've got sand in my hair. That's dead people! Oh, that's disgusting! Oh!" Christina shook her head and hair, now wishing she would've used that scrunchie Minerva had for herself.

"Doctor, even if it scares me I still want to know," Minerva adamantly said as he stood back up, facing her, "I'm actually trying not to be so fearful of things but you know after this regeneration everything's a bit more...fearful, after everything I had previously went through. But that doesn't mean I don't want to know the reality of situations we're in. So next time, please just tell me, alright?"

"Alright, that sounds fair," the Doctor nodded, though he still wasn't very convinced. He only wanted to protect her from scary things and whenever he could, he wold, "So something destroyed the whole of San Helios and we should probably know why."

"And who," Minerva pointed.

"It's in my hair!" Christina was still stuck on that detail.

Suddenly, Barclay's cellphone rang and the Doctor pulled it from his pocket, "Malcolm, tell me the bad news!"

~ 0 ~

Malcolm was sat on his chair with his phone on speaker and Erisa beside him, "Oh, you are clever! It is bad news! It's the wormhole, Doctor, it's getting bigger! We've gone way past 100 Bernards, I haven't invented a name for that."

"How can it get bigger by itself?" the Doctor asked.

"Well, that's why I'm phoning! You'll work it out, if I know you, sir."

"Doctor, we estimate the circumference of your invisible wormhole is now four miles, heading upwards. I've grounded all flights above London. We can't risk anyone else falling through," Erisa spoke up.

"Good work, both of you," the Doctor praised.

"But I have to know. Does that wormhole constitute a danger to this planet?" Erisa questioned.

~ 0 ~

The phone beeped and so the Doctor looked at it, "Oh, sorry, call waiting, gotta go," he switched it off for the other call.

~ 0 ~

"Call waiting!?" Erisa half-shouted.

"He's a devil, that one!" Malcolm laughed.

"I'll say he's got a lot of explaining, starting with that wife of his..." she shook her head, "...I found the file."

Malcolm raised an eyebrow, seeing the subject was more complicated apparently, he only wondered why.

~ 0 ~

"Yep?" the Doctor answered the other call.

"Doctor, it's Nathan. We got those duckboard things down, but..."

"It's my fault," the Doctor heard Angela in the background.

"No, it's not, don't say that," Nathan shushed her.

"Why, what's happened?" the Doctor asked.

"We kept on turning the engine, but...we're out of petrol. Used it all up. Even if we can get those wheels out...this bus is never going to move."

The Doctor lowered the phone and Minerva immediately saw the new expression her husband wore, "What's wrong?" she asked him quietly.

"You promised you'd get us home. Doctor? Are you still there?" Nathan asked.

"Doctor, tell me, what did they say?" Minerva asked, Christina joining them.

A beeping noise from the monitors interrupted them followed by the excited chirrups of the Tritovores.

"It's the probe. It's reached the storm," the Doctor moved to the monitors.

"And what's he saying?" Christina questioned.

"It's not a storm."

The probe was flying through a massive amount of creatures flying in the air, looking like manta-rays which the group could see through a video on the ship.

"Okay, scared now..." Minerva started breathing harder. "That's a swarm...millions and millions of them..."

"Billions," the Doctor's eyes widened.

One of the creatures flew straight for the probe with its mouth wide open and showing off its sharp teeth. The connection was soon lost after that.

"Ah! We've lost the probe. I think it got eaten..." Minerva trembled a bit and shook her head.

"Everything on this planet gets eaten," the Doctor realized with distaste.

"How far away is that swarm?" Christina asked.

"Hundred miles. But at that speed, it'll be here in twenty minutes," the Doctor replied and the Tritovores chirruped, "No, they're not just coming for us. They want the wormhole."

"But that means they're heading for Earth!" Minerva gasped.

"Show the analysis," the Doctor instructed the Tritovores. Quickly, a 3D image of the creatures appeared before them, "Incredible! They swarm out of a wormhole, strip the planet bare, then move on to the next world, start the life cycle all over again."

"So, they make the wormholes?" Minerva asked curiously.

"They must do..."

"But how? They don't exactly look like technicians," Christina observed, "And if the wormhole belongs to them, why are they 100 miles away?"

"Because they need to be?" he tried then shook his head, "No. That's bonkers. Hang on! Yes! Oh! Do you see? Billions of them, flying in formation, all around the planet, round and round and round, faster and faster and faster, till they generate a rupture in space! The speed of them, and the numbers, and the size, all of that rips the wormhole into existence!"

"And the wormhole's getting bigger," Minerva reminded, "Because they're getting closer?"

"Correct!"

"But how do they get through? Cos that wormhole's a killer, we've seen it!" Christina reminded.

"No, no, see the exo-skeleton?" the Doctor pointed to the projection.

"It's metal," Minerva blinked, "Wow..."

"They've got bones of metal! They eat metal, and extrude it into the exo-skeleton! So their velocity makes the wormhole, then their body makes it safe! Perfect design!"

"Those things are going to turn the entire Earth into a desert. So why exactly are you smiling?" Christina raised an eyebrow.

"Worse it gets, the more I love it!"

Minerva shook her head and sighed when Christina gave her a look, "Yes, I did voluntarily marry that."

And just like that, the grin on the Doctor's face dropped. "Hey."

"The thing is, Doctor, you're missing the obvious," Christina said before the man started another little moment with his wife, "We came here through the wormhole, yes? But our Tritovore friends didn't. They came here to trade with San Helios. Therefore, the question is, why did they crash?"

"Ah, good question! What a team! Like she said, why did you crash?" he asked the creatures.

One of the Tritovores lead the group into another room with a large open hole on the floor where apparently the answer laid.

The Doctor observed the hole, "Oh, yes. Gravity Well, look. Goes all the way down to the engine. So what happened?" the creature chirruped, "He says the drive system stalled. Ten miles up, they fell out of the sky. But what caused that?"

The Tritovore shrugged.

"No idea," Minerva sighed.

"Yeah. But wait a minute, that's a crystal nucleus down there, yes?" he looked at the creature which chirruped, "And it looks like it survived the crash. If the crystal's intact... Oh, yes, that's better than diesel!"

"What, you can use the crystal to move the bus?" Christina asked.

"I think so. The spaceship's a write-off, but the 200's small enough."

"How does a Crystal drive a bus?"

"In a super-clever outer-spacey way, just trust me!" the Doctor pulled a feed on a monitor.

"What have I said about those words?" Minerva raised an eyebrow, "You got me doing them!"

"I'm a very good influence," he smirked then glanced at the Tritovore, "There's the crystal! It's fallen to the bottom of the well. Have you got access shafts?" it chirruped, "All frozen? Maybe I can open them! Internal comms, put that on," he gave Minerva a Bluetooth-like device and ran for the door, "You two stay here, keep an eye on the shaft. Tell me if anything happens," the Tritovore followed him.

"Where it's safer," Minerva sighed and gave Christina a tired, irritated look.

"Overprotective?"

Minerva rolled her eyes and nodded. She covered the part of the speaker before she talked, "I had um...an accident, months ago where I changed and needed a lot more protection. I sort of used be like a human, all fragile and stuff, so he took it upon himself to protect me. And that was nice and all - it still is," she admitted with a light shrug, "But I'm myself again. I've got my strength back and I'm getting my powers too, but he's taken this job of protection severely serious to the point where I don't think he'll ever let me try anything dangerous again no matter how many times he tells me he'll 'try'," she rolled her eyes.

"And it's highly annoying," Christina slowly moved to the hole, well, and peered down.

"Truly," Minerva sighed, "It's more irritating because he thinks the dangerous jobs are all his. He's the one that has to deal with the enemies and has to keep everyone safe. And yes, I like when he protects me but that doesn't mean I want him to do it all the time. We're a team, we're married, I want to help him too."

In all the meantime, Christina had moved back to the well and peered down, a small idea popping into her head.

"I understand he's only looking out for me but I want to prove to him that I'm no longer that meek woman he met years ago. I'm different, literally. I can handle more things but he just needs to give me the chance to prove it," Minerva continued.

"If I can use that sunlight to start the automatic maintenance. Minerva?" she heard the Doctor call through the bluetooth, "If you see a panel opening in that shaft, let me know."

"Got it," Minerva replied quietly as she turned to face Christina.

She blinked when the black-haired woman held out a harness, "Well my dear cousin...how'd you like to prove to your husband you're more than ready to get in the game?"

Minerva followed Christina's gaze to the well and immediately knew what the plan was. Christina raised an eyebrow and smirked, nodding to the well, daring the brunette woman to go ahead and do what she wanted, what she needed to do.

"Minerva, anything now?" she heard the Doctor ask again.

Minerva bit her lip and held her hands to Christina, "Gimme."

Christina quietly laughed and obeyed.

~ 0 ~

The Doctor was pulling and connecting cables in the other room, "Anything now?" he asked again.

~ 0 ~

Minerva now wore the harness which Christina was making sure was set correctly, "Nothing," Minerva said.

~ 0 ~

"Any sign of movement?" he sighed.

"Nope."

"How's that?"

~ 0 ~

Christina set up a wire cable and winch for Minerva, "Nothing," the brunette replied again.

"Any result?"

Christina attached the cable to the harness. "Martian, you need that crystal right?" Minerva asked, Christina took out a small torch from her bag and attached it by Velcro to the harness.

"Yup, that would be right," the Doctor cluelessly replied.

"Then consider it done," Minerva winked at Christina, "Thank you," she whispered to the black-haired woman.

"Off you go then you're highness," Christina backed away.

~ 0 ~

The Doctor's eyes widened at his Clever Girl's words. "Minerva? What are you doing?" He had stopped his work to get the answer. "Minerva!?"

~ 0 ~

"Proving myself," Minerva determinedly answered, "A good princess does whatever needs to be done for her people and a good wife always helps her husband." She swan dived into the gravity well.

"NO!" the Doctor hurriedly ran inside the room but too late as his wife was gone, "What have you done!?" he angrily faced Christina.

She was as calm as ever however, "How about instead of yelling you help her?"

Minerva tried her best not to give any shouts to show her massive fear of her choices as she fell through the well with her arms outstretched. It would just make it worse.

The Doctor used his sonic screwdriver on the pulley and made Minerva stop, "That's better — somewhat!" he nearly shouted again, still giving Christina dagger glares, "You let her do this!?"

"She wanted to!" Christina exclaimed, crossing her arms, "You're suffocating her with your over-protectiveness!"

"What!?"

"Martian, I was doing good," he heard Minerva's soft voice through their devices.

He sighed in irritation, "Minerva, you were about to hit the security grid, look."

Minerva looked down and saw a field of cracking energy below her, "Oh...okay, so what do I do?"

"Try the big red button," he said.

She pressed the button on the wall, "Yes!"

"Now come back up! I can do that! PLEASE!" He ran his hands through his hair in frustration, that hole reminding him far too much of the Titanic's engines where she nearly died...

"No."

"No?"

"No. I'm doing this so shut up and let me help you."

"You'd be helping me far more if you were here!"

"But it's not helping her," Christina quietly said, earning another round of glares.

"Oh and you are?" he snapped.

"Frankly, yes. She told me you wouldn't let her do anything even when she's her alien self again," Christine didn't understand exactly what that meant but if it would make the Doctor get the idea then she would use it, "How do you expect her to be better if you don't let her try to do stuff on her own?"

"I am her husband and I will protect her. I'm the one supposed to be doing this," he pointed down at the well, "She's innocent and she doesn't know what harm can come to her—"

"She's not innocent," Christina started with that, "And even if she was, it wouldn't be good for her. You can't be innocent in this world and survive. She needs to experience things and you're not letting her. God forbid this, but what if something happened to you and you died? You spent all this time protecting her from everything and never allowed her to do something, to protect her self...how would she move on by herself? She wouldn't know anything..."

The Doctor opened his mouth to make a comeback, but...there was nothing really to say. Christina looked at him with a 'I'm right' expression. But as right as she may be, the Doctor could not allow his wife to be doing anything dangerous when he could do it...he didn't need to do it, he was sure Minerva could actually protect herself quite well on her own if she needed to. But, he remembered all those centuries where he was married and she told him of all the dangers the Monsoon had to deal with, apart from her family problems. At those times he wished he could promise, swear, that he would protect her and comfort her...but the fact was he couldn't. He was married, he had his children, he had his wife. Minerva had her own life on the Monsoon and as such deserved a man who could stay at her side and give her the love she deserved.

But that had finally changed and she was his wife now, his wife. Now, he could finally protect her like he'd always wanted to. He could care for her, openly love her and show her he loved her. She didn't need to be worried over these problems because he could always be there now. He would always take care of her.

"I'm fine, Martian," Minerva informed the Doctor as she continued on her way down the hole. She didn't like the way she was probably making him feel and that wasn't her intention. But, this was the chance she wanted and finally had thanks to Christina. He would see that nothing bad would happen and that she could help much better than her previous incarnation had.

"Just...just please be careful," was the Doctor's plea, looking at Christina with a less angry face. It pained him that she was right.

"My cousin is doing just fine," Christina smiled.

"Cousins? Oh no, no, no," he shook his head, "You're a bad influence on her. The moment we finish up, we leave."

"Where to exactly?" she raised an eyebrow, curious, "And how? On a little rocket?"

"I'll have you know my TARDIS is much cooler than a rocket," he frowned, immediately softening when he heard Minerva's laughter.

"What's a TARDIS?" Christina moved around the place, a little bored having to wait for her 'cousin' to reach the destination.

"Well...a little blue box. Travels in more than space," he replied, "It can journey through time, Christina. Oh, the places we've been. World War One. Creation of the universe, end of the universe, the war between China and Japan..." the Doctor tilted his head as he saw something shiny from Christina's backpack. It seemed like his wife's curiosity had infected him because he found himself moving over to the backpack and opening it up, "Oh..." his eyes blinked rapidly, "And the Court of King Athelstan, in 924 AD.," he lifted a golden chalice up just Christina spun around, "But I don't remember you being there. So what are you doing with this?"

Christina stormed over, "Excuse me, a gentleman never goes through a lady's possessions!" she tried taking the chalice but the Doctor lifted it up to where she was unable to reach it.

"Doctor, what's going on?" he heard Minerva ask.

"It's the Cup of Athelstan. Given to the first King of Britain, as a coronation gift from Hywel, King of the Welsh. But it's been held in the International Gallery for 200 years, which makes you, Lady Christina, a thief. Your cousin is actually a thief, Clever Girl."

"I like to think I liberated it," Christina hopped for the chalice.

"Don't tell me you need the money."

"Daddy lost everything. Invested his fortune in the Icelandic banks."

"That's not right," the Doctor heard Minerva again, "If she was short of cash she would've robbed a bank or even a liquor store. That's her lifestyle."

"My wife is very clever and she says this is your lifestyle," the Doctor told Christina.

"I take it you both disapprove?" Christina raised an eyebrow.

"Absolutely," he nodded before thinking on it more, "Except, that little blue box. I stole it. From my own people."

"AH!" Minerva suddenly yelped.

"What is it!? What's wrong!?" the Doctor peered down the hole.

"We never did find out why the ship crashed..." Minerva breathed as she saw the end of the hole coming closer.

"Minerva, I think you should come back up," the Doctor swallowed.

"It's too late, I can see it..."

"Please, Minerva, please, be careful and do this slowly," he looked over to the Tritovore, "Have you got an open-vent system?" it chirruped, "I thought so."

"What does that mean?" Christina asked, stopping her hopping when she noticed it was serious again.

"It's like when birds fly into the engines of an aircraft..."

Minerva reached the bottom and saw one of the creatures, "Oh dear..." she breathed at the sight, "It's one of the creatures..."

"Got trapped in the vents. Caused the crash. Minerva, get out," the Doctor begged again.

"It's not moving, I think it's injured," Minerva offered to relieve his nerves a little. If it was injured, it wouldn't be able to cause much harm.

"No, it's dormant, because it's so cold down there. But your body heat is going to raise the temperature."

"But not that fast," she reminded, "I'm part Moontsay and that should give me just enough time," she tried to release the crystal as best and quickly as she could, "And you needed the entire thing, right?"

The Doctor sighed, "Yes..."

She lifted it from the ground, cautiously looking over at the creature, "I'm almost there, Martian. It's okay."

"Minerva, you're giving me heart attacks," he whined, actually rubbing his chest as he felt them constrict when thinking of the creature with her.

"Not so fun, is it?" she smirked when there was no reply, "Got it!" she looked over to the creature and saw it barely move, "And look at that, it's just waking up."

The Doctor used the screwdriver on the winch and pulled her up, "Come on, come on!"

Minerva saw the red button coming up again and pressed it as she moved past it, turning on the field, "And just for precaution."

"Oh she is very good," Christina remarked as the Doctor swung the brunette over to the side, "Well done, cousin."

"Thanks," Minerva breathed with adrenaline and handed her crystal and couplings.

Suddenly, she found her face turned to a very crossed Martian. "Don't ever do that to me again!" he brought her to his lips for a deep kiss, "Ever, ever, ever!" He pepper-kissed her face until she laughed.

"But it worked out fine, see?" she gestured to the place, "I can do these things now," she took his hands in hers, "I'm not a goddess or anything, or even you, but I'm capable now."

But the Doctor was just too relieved to see her in front of him, safe and alive. He took off all the contraptions on her and pulled her into his arms for a very tight hug, needing to bask in this small moment. He supposed now he understood completely what it meant to have a heart attack, or in his case hearts attack when the person you loved faced a danger.

"Doctor, we need to go," Minerva reminded, trying to wiggle out of his arms, "C'mon, Martian!"

"Right," he pulled back but kept her hand in his with a tight grip, "Commander! Mission complete! Now we've got to get back to the 200, all of us," but the commander Tritovore chittered, "Oh, don't be so daft! A captain can leave his ship if there's a bus standing by."

"We can take you to a nice planet," Minerva promised, "But we have to go now! That swarm can't be long now, c'mon!" she motioned to be followed as they started running.

~ 0 ~

The rest of the bus passengers could see the swarm reaching them only they still believed it was just a storm...except Carmen of course. She was the one who was freaking out the most.

"What sort of storm is that?" Angela had to ask.

"Run! Run, run, run, run, run!" Carmen mumbled, sensing the trio, along with two newcomers were running towards them.

As the group ran, the Doctor could hear that cellphone ringing again and when he answered he'd only let Malcolm say his name before he said, "Not now, Malcolm!" and hung up.

"Still rude!" Minerva exclaimed.

They reached the bus where Nathan and Barclay stood at the door, their eyes wide at the Tritovores behind the trio, "What the hell are those?" Nathan pointed.

"Don't point, it's rude," Christina scolded.

"Hey, now you're getting it," Minerva laughed, "And they're friends so be nice," she warned the two men.

"Get inside, get them sitting down," the Doctor ushered the two men away and held the crystal, "Now then, let's have a look."

"So what does that crystal do?" Christina questioned.

He tossed it over his shoulder, "Oh, nothing, don't need the crystal."

"She risked her life for that!" she pointed to Minerva.

"No, no, she...risked," he really didn't like remembering that detail. "Her life for these," he unhooked one of the clamps, "The clamps!" he ran to the driver's side front tire and attached a clamp, " One there. One there. One there. And one there!" he had made a trip all around the bus putting each clamp on the tires, "Now get in! All of you!" he ushered the women in and the Tritovores.

"But what are the clamps for? Do they turn the wheels?" Christina asked once inside the bus.

The Doctor took a seat in the driver's seat, "Something like that. I just need to fix this. Have you got a hammer in that bag?"

"Oh I bet she does," Minerva sighed as said hammer was pulled out of Christina's bag.

"Phone, phone...: the Doctor handed her the phone, 'Press redial, dear," Minerva dialed the phone while he hooked the plate to the steering wheel. Once someone answered, Minerva placed the phone to his ear, "Malcolm, it's me!"

~ 0 ~

"I'm ready!" Malcolm exclaimed, popping up from the floor with large goggles.

"Ready for what?" the Doctor asked.

"I don't know! You tell me!"

"I'll try to get back. There might be something following us. You need to find a way to close the wormhole."

"Would that be a compressed burst of feedback on a counter-oscillation, perchance?"

"Oh, Malcolm! You're brilliant!"

"Coming from you, sir, that means the world."

"Doctor, what sort of something?" Erisa spoke into the phone, "That wormhole is now measuring ten miles and growing, I need to know the exact nature of the threat."

~ 0 ~

"Sorry, gotta go," the Doctor nodded to Minerva who hung up the call. He worked on the steering well up until it sparked and made him lean away, "Ah, it's not compatible! Bus, spaceship, spaceship, bus. I need to weld the two systems together."

"And how do you do that?" Minerva asked.

"I need something non-corrosive, something malleable, something ductile, something..."

Both looked over to Christina, "Gold."

Horror flashed across her face knowing exactly what they wanted from her. "Oh, no you don't!" She hugged her backpack to her chest.

Minerva groaned. "Christina, seriously, what is it worth now if you're going to be a little too dead to cash it in!?"

Barclay came forwards to offer his watch, "Hey, hey, use this!"

"I said gold," the Doctor reminded.

"It is gold."

Minerva gave him an apologetic smile. "Let's not add one more bad thing to this," she patted the man's shoulder and sent him back to his seat.

"Christina!" the Doctor exclaimed in frustration.

She looked at her bag then the other passengers and finally took the chalice out, "It's over 1,000 years old. Worth £18 million. Promise me you'll be careful."

He took the cup from her gently, "I promise," he then turned the cup upside down and banged it with the hammer.

Christina's expression flattened as he banged it probably about ten times. "I seriously hate you."

"Exactly why I threw away the TARDIS hammer," Minerva smirked. She turned to face the passengers, "Ladies and gentlemen please stay seated we are about to leave this desert, hot planet. And yes, there are currently two new passengers, nice Tritovores, so please be nice to them," she flashed a smile to the said aliens who chirruped back.

"No, she stays with me, fellas," the Doctor called to them after their remarks about Minerva being so kind. Yes, she was kind, yes she was funny, and yes she would be staying only with him.

"What's he going to do, though?" Barclay asked.

"Just do as he says please," Minerva smiled and turned to the Doctor, her smile dropping as she leaned down beside him. "You do know what you're doing right?"

The Doctor flatout ignored her and continued with the steering wheel. "Come on, that's it... You can do it, you beauty! One last trip!" Suddenly the bus powered up and rattled. It rose from the sand, astonishing the passengers.

Barclay looked out the window, "Ah, you are so kidding me!"

"We're flying! It's flying!" Nathan laughed.

"He's flying the bus!" Lou breathed.

"It's a miracle!" Angela blinked, a bright smile on her face.

"Anti-gravity clamps. Didn't I say? Round we go," the Doctor cheered as he turned the bus and faced the the wormhole.

Carmen looked back the window to the swarm, "Doctor! They're coming!"

"Do you think this thing will survive the journey back?" Christina quietly asked the pair.

"Only one way to find out!" the Doctor shrugged, "Next stop..."

"Everywhere!" Minerva cheered, "Though it would be nice to stop by Earth first..."

Everyone held on tight as the Doctor propelled the bus through the wormhole, yelling as it did.

There was a flash of light before the wormhole became visible to the soldiers on the other side on Earth and suddenly the bus came through, flying over everyone.

"It's London!" Barclay looked out the window to see the dark night of London, England.

"We're back home!" Angela cheered.

"He did it! He did it!" Nathan exclaimed.

"Malcolm! Close that wormhole!" the Doctor ordered through the phone that Minerva held to his ear.

"Yes, sir! My pleasure, sir!"

The Doctor blinked, "He's hung up on me!"

Minerva smirked, "You had that one coming."

~ 0 ~

Malcolm pressed a button on his keyboard, "Yes!" but the electronics sparked and away went his excitement, "Oh, no, no! No!" a small fire sprouted which he quickly put out with a fire extinguisher.

He heard the phone ringing and so picked up only to say, "Not now, I'm busy!" he set the phone down.

~ 0 ~

"He's hung up again!" the Doctor cried and so Minerva went ahead and redialed, "Malcolm! Listen to me!" the Doctor exclaimed once Malcolm had picked up again.

"It's not working!" Malcolm said.

"I need that signal. We've got billions of those things about to fly through!"

"Well, what do I do?"

"Loop it back through the integrator, and keep the signal ramping up."

"But by how much?"

"500 Bernards! Do it now!"

Malcolm made the adjustments on the computer, excitement back on when he saw it working, "Yes!"

Outside, the wormhole sealed up and left only the three manta creatures on Earth. Unfortunately, for the first couple of minutes it would seem that the soldiers' bullets didn't harm the creatures.

"Doctor, it's coming for us!" Nathan pointed at an oncoming creature heading for the open window of the bus.

"Oh, no, you don't!" the Doctor swerved the bus and batted the creature away.

Finally, the creatures were taken down by the soldiers and everything was left to pure excitement and cheers inside the bus.

"Back home," Minerva sighed in content and looked down at the Doctor, "Knew you could do it."

"Technically we did it together," he took one of her hands and kissed the back of it, making her smile.

Once the bus landed, everyone gathered their belongings and as the Doctor sonicked the door open, they filed out with a soldier giving instructions for them.

"Welcome back. If you could step away from the bus to be safe. As fast as you can. It's standard procedure. We need to screen you, and then you'll all be taken to debriefing."

Minerva tensed as she remembered just what sort of institution was guarding the perimeters. The Doctor stood and took out his psychic paper, "We don't count," he flashed it to the soldier and stepped out with his wife.

Christina made to follow the pair, "No, but, Doctor..." but the soldier took her by the arm.

"With me, ma'am," he took her away.

"Doctor!" Malcolm exclaimed as he saw the pair heading towards Erisa.

"You must be Malcolm!" the Doctor stopped and surprisingly found himself in a hug.

"Oh! Oh, I love you,"Malcolm pulled away, "I love you, I love you."

Minerva had to chuckle, not so much afraid of this man, "Not as much as me though," she warned, "Cos that's my job."

"To your station, Doctor Taylor," Erisa joined them.

"Yes, ma'am," Malcolm headed back to the lab but turned and pointed to the Doctor, "I love you!" the Doctor simply pointed back with a smile and Malcolm went on.

"Doctor," Erisa saluted, "I salute you, whether you like it or not. Now, I take it we're safe from those things?"

"They'll start again. Generate a new doorway. It's not their fault, it's their natural life cycle. But I'll see if I can nudge the wormholes on to uninhabited planets," the Doctor said, feeling Minerva silently and discreetly move a bit more behind him, "Closer to home, Captain, those two lads," he nodded to Barclay and Nathan, " Very good in a crisis. Nathan needs a job, Barclay's good with engines. You could do a lot worse. Privates Nathan and Barclay, UNIT's finest."

"I'll see what I can do..." Erisa noticed the woman practically hidden behind the Doctor, "...I take it that's your wife? Also known as our formerly investigated case in San Diego, 2009."

Minerva, seeing no other point of hiding, moved back to the Doctor's side, gripping his hand like she was holding onto dear life, "...hello..." she greeted with a shaky voice.

"Ma'am," Erisa nodded.

"Captain I'm going to be frank here, my wife's terrified of UNIT because of the investigation on her last year. Can you please tell her that it's alright now? Because it is alright now, right?" the Doctor gave the woman a sharp look, practically daring her to say something else, "There are no current investigations of her and her human family...right?"

Erisa caught the question - warning - and nodded fervently. "Quite right, Doctor. Miss Souza there no investigations over you anymore," she informed the brunette, "Though we will need to create a new profile for you."

"Why?" Minerva breathed and stepped back.

"Just to have a record of you like the Doctor."

"But why? I haven't done anything bad, I swear. I'm good."

The Doctor chuckled, "It's just to have something to follow by for protocols," he took her hand in his up to his lips for a kiss.

"Protocols? What for?"

"Employees," Erisa explained but garnered confusion from Minerva.

"Employee?" she blinked, "But I don't...I don't work here..."

"Now you do," Erisa nodded.

"So...UNIT doesn't want to like...poke me or anything?"

Erisa had to laugh, "Not really."

"Oh, okay," Minerva breathed a sigh of relief then looked at the Doctor with a dim smile, "I'm working for UNIT..."

"Want to be my partner?" he raised an eyebrow, sharing a smirk with her.

"That sounds nice," she laughed.

"And as a peace gift, we've got something for you and your husband, ma'am," Erisa cut into the moment and gestured behind them where a tarp dropped to reveal the TARDIS.

"The box of wonders!" Minerva cheered, running over to the dear box, "Better than any sort of transportation!"

"Found in the gardens of Buckingham Palace," Erisa explained as she and the Doctor joined the brunette.

"Oh, she doesn't mind," the Doctor waved it off.

"Now, I've got three dead alien stingrays to clear up. I don't suppose you fancy helping with the paperwork?"

"Not really, but could you please send over the Tritovores to us? We're supposed to bring them to a nice planet for them."

"Of course," Erisa nodded, "Till we meet again, Doctor, ma'am," she called to Minerva.

Minerva turned around with a half-smile, "Minerva," she corrected for future references.

The Doctor walked up to Minerva and took her into a hug, "See? I told you everything would be fine with UNIT. You had nothing to be afraid of."

"I know it was stupid but it was a real fear for me," she sighed, resting her head on his chest, "I didn't want them questioning my family here, or even my friends."

Christina, who was being monitored with a Geiger counter saw the pair near that blue box of theirs and swatted the soldier, "That's quite enough of that!" she ran towards the pair

The detective, McMillan, spotted her and went after her. "She is not getting away this time."

"Little blue box! Just like you said!" Christina looked at the TARDIS with excitement, "Right then, off we go! Come on, Doctor, cousin," she eyed Minerva, "Show me the stars!"

"No," Minerva sadly smiled.

"What?"

"No," Minerva repeated, looking at the Doctor to see if he was thinking the same.

"But I helped you," Christina reminded, "I helped both of you."

"So?" the Doctor asked.

"We're surrounded by police. I'll go to prison."

"Yeah."

"But you were right, it's not about the money. I only steal things for the adventure, and today, with you...I want more days like this. I want every day to be like this. Why not take me with you?"

"People have traveled with us and we've lost them. Lost them all. Never again," the Doctor replied, "And my wife needs a lot of help right now. She is my main priority and I make no trips that interfere with her assistance."

McMillan arrived with policemen, "Lady Christina de Souza! Oh, I have waited a long time to say this. I am arresting you on suspicion of theft," Minerva watched with sadness as Christina was handcuffed. " You do not have to say anything, etcetera, etcetera. Dennison, take her away."

As Christina was taken away, Carmen and Lou walked over to the pair.

"Doctor? You take care, now," Carmen warned.

The Doctor smiled, missing the warning, "You too! Chops and gravy, lovely! What do you think we'll have for tonight, dear?" he looked at Minerva.

"No, but you be careful. Because your song is ending, sir," Carmen reiterated her warning with further explanation.

"What do you mean?" the Doctor asked, his smile gone.

"It is returning. It is returning through the dark. And then, Doctor... Oh, but then... He will knock four times."

As the humans parted, the Doctor and Minerva shared a concerned glance with each other. The last time they heard about a song, well...a certain human song ended (Minerva) and a certain hybrid song began...Minerva. But this time, this time the song was his...

Thankfully, the two Tritovores arrived as requested, distracting them from the dark moment.

"Oh, please come in," Minerva opened the TARDIS doors for them, "We'll be taking you home right now! Any requests?" she called as the two went inside.

The Tritovores chirruped from inside and the Doctor poked his head inside, frowning, "For the last time, she is staying with me!" he closed the doors and faced his wife who giggled, "What?"

"You're so ridiculous," she turned away to see Christina being led to a police car. Suddenly, she reached for the Doctor's screwdriver and pointed to her 'cousin''s handcuffs, unlocking them, "My cousin will not go to jail."

Christina noticed the unlocked handcuffs but remained silent as she was placed in the backseat of the car. As soon as the door was closed, she scooted to the other side and bolted out of the car, heading for the bus as the McMilan and another officer chased her.

"No! Stop that woman! Stop that woman! Stop her! Don't just stand there, stop her!"

Minerva handed the Doctor back his screwdriver and hurried up to the bus with him.

"Open the door! I'll add resisting arrest!" McMillan pounded on the bus doors.

"I'd step back, if I were you," the Doctor warned him.

"I'm charging you too! Aiding and abetting!" McMillan warned the two.

"Yes, we'll just step inside this police box and arrest our selves," Minerva sweetly smiled and took the Doctor's hand as the two returned to the TARDIS.

Christina waved to the detective and started the bus. McMillan watched helplessly as the bus lifted off the ground, "No! Come back!"

The rest of the passengers laughed at the getaway. The pair stopped in front of the TARDIS doors where Christina hovered and opened the doors to call out, "We could've been so good together, cousin," she smiled.

"Sorry cousin, but I've got a kingdom to build and a husband to deal with," Minerva playfully shrugged.

Christina laughed while the Doctor mock-glared at the two. She waved at them then flew and the bus flew into the sky, leaving behind a cheering group of their new friends.

"Time to go home," the Doctor whispered to Minerva while taking her hand.

"Yes, please," she agreed and allowed him to take them back to the TARDIS to finish their last task before they could end their long day.

#ocappreciation #fd: doctor who #doctor who #10th doctor #allaboutocs #ochub #doctor who ocs #10th doctor oc #10th doctor x oc #doctor who fics #doctor who imagines #dw #dw fics #dw imagines #dw ocs #10th doctor fics #10th doctor imagines #oc: minerva souza #fic: star-crossed

4 notes · View notes

ameliewritessometimes · 3 months

Text

April 18th 2020, 2:54 pm

“Whabb are you doin?” The girl asked her sister with a mouth full of toothpaste foam.

“The damn creatures buried their way into my foot again so I’m tryna get them out”. She answered. The girl watched her sister wearily.

“Wibb a pair of scisthors?”

“Yeah they were the closest thing I could-” she finally managed to extract the creature from its root in her foot. The sister gasped at the size of the wriggling black parasite. It writhed in her grasp, splattering blood all over the wooden floor. The girl felt bile rising to her throat. She averted her eyes from that side of the bathroom, spat the most of the minty foam into the sink, replaced her toothbrush, and hurried out the door.

Her room was the most cluttered, colourful place you could find in the house. Tapestries embroidered with intricate mandala patterns, deep purples and many shades of blue, lined the walls. Every space was accounted for, if not by a tapestry then by a poster depicting planetary alignments, a calendar, red with sweeping golden characters or a painting from centuries passed or years to come. Persian rugs of different shapes and sizes were scattered about the place. Most on the floor, but some were draped over furniture too. The patterns on these carpets were geometric, the fabric mostly red. The furniture in the room seemed to be arranged haphazardly. Most surfaces were hidden under piles of books, figurines of elephants and snakes and ornaments. Incense burned amongst sets of tubes, vials, and bottles both empty and filled with bizarre concoctions. One large bottle contained a goldfish, and in another grew a venus fly trap. From the ceiling hung numerous dream catchers that spun, wind chimes that chimed, and thousands of rustling charms: herbs, jade stones, and red mushrooms speckled with white dots hung in bags among miniature globes revolving around each other, suspended by an invisible force. Horns, dried flowers and clovers seemed to be stuck to the ceiling. And rings hung in chains like paper decor, some gold, some silver, and speckled with precious stones.

The most occurring object in the girl’s room would have to be the candles. Each different from the next, but all were lit with a blue flame that wriggled and danced. Perhaps it was a miracle the room hadn’t been burnt to ruins. Perhaps it was magic.

The girl picked her way across the room to find her bed. She cosied herself into the middle, her back against the wall, and righted her posture. Her legs were crossed, her hands rested on her knees, and her palms faced the ceiling. She closed her eyes.

In her left palm, a blue flame appeared. It danced excitedly, moving to the steady rhythm of the girl’s heartbeat. As she deepened her concentration, the flame slowed.

If you looked carefully at the little flame, it looked like a being of its own kind. Its chest heaved in time with the girls. Slowly, but steadily, the dream catchers stopped their spinning, the wind chimes stopped their chiming, and the charms stopped their rustling. All except for one.

In the corner, next to the beaded curtain that hid her bathing quarters from view, the tiniest bell was tinkling. The girl opened one eye to locate the sound.

She smiled “Hello Minerva.”

The beaded curtain parted to reveal a girl, her face mostly obscured by a massive horned helmet, lying in the turquoise tiled bathtub. She steps briskly out of the bathtub removing her helmet which reveals a very squashed head of curls. She grins.

“Iris” she replies with a nod. Minerva takes a moment to drink in the details of the girl’s room. Her eyes sweep across the furniture and ceiling. “I like what you’ve done with the place. I have always wondered where you find your decorations.” she whizzes around the room giving herself a hasty tour. She peers into the vials, picks up various ornaments before replacing them, and flicks a couple of dream catchers out of her way as she goes along.

The girl watches her quietly from her position on the bed.

“It’s been a while hasn’t it? I assume the rest of the house hasn’t changed since I was last here.”

Minerva begins flipping through a book before moving on to the next and discarding that one too. A tapestry seems to catch her eye. “I remember this one! This must have been the first one you owned.” She fingers the stitching delicately, following the pattern round and round. “It still makes me dizzy.” She smiles.

“I thought you were gone.”

Minerva continues her rampage across the room, touching everything she sees and moving anything and everything capable of being moved. Her speech becomes more rapid. “Ahh! I used to love these globes. Aren’t they the coolest? I was so jealous and I wished I could have one. I like the horns, they remind me of my helmet see?” She lifts up her helmet and compares it with the horn on the ceiling, staring at the girl with a demented grin.

“I thought you were gone for good.”

Minerva begins looking through the vials and tubes “You and your potions. I swear half of this is just homoeopathy.” She pauses and looks back at the girl. “You know I never really understood all your magic. Well, I guess that’s just me isn’t it? Can’t teach me anything.” She browses through an old cupboard her hand floating over one shelf. “I just need to grab a healing potion if you don’t mind.” She peers into each separate tube. Minerva’s hand stops above one containing an opal coloured liquid. “What’s this?” She extracts it carefully from its place on the shelf and peers into the tube. Her eyes widen. “I think we should try this one. Take a trip down memory lane. eh?” as she turns to look at the girl, a dagger flies through the air. The dagger pierces the tube and it shatters. The shards of glass fall to the ground and the dagger lands bang in the middle of one of the mandala patterns.

“Bullseye” Minerva whispers.

“I thought you weren’t coming back.”

“Well I’m here now aren’t I?” Minerva replies plainly. She sighs and looks at the girl properly holding her gaze. She a glowing blue light coming from the right side of the girl’s chest. Minerva approaches the bed warily as if she’s not sure if she’s allowed to touch it or not. The girl provides no input, so slowly, she sits. She takes the girls hand in hers. “I’m sorry.”

The girl tenses, screwing up her face. She lets out a heavy breath. The candles around her begin to stir. They wiggle about freely as if released from a spell. Then, each glob of flame detaches from each respective candlewick and begins to cross the room. Minerva watches enchanted as the globs evolve into little fire beings. They march in lines from all directions towards the bed, forming a sun-like pattern. They crawl up the furniture and leap onto the bed. The first fire being to meet Minerva hesitates. It looks up at the girl inquiringly. She gives it a nod and smiles, granting its permission. The fire being prods Minerva with an outstretched limb, she looks at it curiously. Seeing no ill effects, the fire being leaps onto her and the others quickly follow suit. Minerva laughs in surprise. “It tickles!” she exclaims wriggling around. The girl simply smiles, watching. Minerva begins to interact with the fire beings and they start to play with her. She tries to catch them but they run away from her, sliding down her tattooed skin. She laughs and laughs. The girl wipes away a tear, unnoticed. After a little while, the beings seem to be getting sleepy. Gathering them together, the girl tucks some of them into her clothes and pockets. She leaves the rest to Minerva who lets them find comfort where they please: on her shoulders, in her hair, in the nook behind her collar bone, on her stomach. The girl and Minerva lie next to each other. All is still except a few of the charms which rustle quietly. Eventually, when the girl falls asleep, all is silent.

Minerva awakens the next morning to find herself alone with the girl. Their legs are tangled and the fire beings are gone. Minerva moves slowly, as to not wake the girl. Silently, she begins tracing her finger over the furniture, the walls, and the ceiling as if performing some kind of ritual memorised to the last detail. “Iris” she whispers. She then takes the opal coloured potion and places the helmet over her head. Minerva disappears from the girl’s room.

Later, the girl opens her eyes. She sits up abruptly. Tears begin to fall from her eyes, and she stares around her room astonished. Her sister comes into her room. “What is it?! What’s wrong?” she looks around perplexed.

“Can’t you see it? The walls, the furniture…” the girl struggles to speak her voice catching in her throat. She rubs her eyes and looks again.

Minerva had written sonnets over everything. Poems, secrets shared between them, and lines and lines of dialogue, each from a different moment they had spent together. The writing could only be for her to see. The girl reads over everything hurriedly, suppressing a sob. She jumps up from her bed and begins tracing her finger over each word, crying tears of bittersweet joy and melancholy. Her sister stares in shock and then turns to head back the way she came. The girl doesn’t seem to notice.

Minerva had written her letters on the walls, and she couldn’t take her eyes off them.

0 notes

dark-water-siren · 2 years

Photo

Princess Minerva By Minties On Deviantart

#minties #stingray maid #mermaid #mermaids #siren #sirens #mermaid art

40 notes · View notes

sevsnapeposts · 3 years

Text

Snapetober Day 11: Old friends.

finally one on time after two days lmao. cheers everyone, for the longest chapter so far. as a side note, i HC that Lucius is bisexual, whilst Severus is demisexual. ah yes, warning: explicit content. it's not /that/ bad but it's still for +18. up in ao3. please enjoy.

Day 11 - Old friends.

There are all kinds of friends, so different and varied that it’s a difficult task to classify them, but Severus could try: There were the ‘friends’, with many quotes, that he had made among the Death Eaters, those who only sought him out for favours and errands; also the colleagues who eventually became some sort of friends, like the ones he had at Hogwarts, with whom he could chat about superficial and scholarly matters, gossip and so on; another thing was friends who became somewhat of a parental figure, like Minerva, who cared about him and didn’t hesitate to pester him about any of his bad habits.

And after all those major categories, occupying a unique and special place, was Lucius Malfoy.

He wasn't too sure about what to call Lucius’ category, though. What do you call someone who is your friend, but was also your protector, your tutor, in a way your superior, and also your lover?

Severus remembered each instance perfectly. He often wondered why the handsome and wealthy prefect that Lucius was when he arrived at Hogwarts had decided to take him under his wing when he was nothing more than a filthy mudblood —words from his peers, carefully spoken outside of Lucius' hearing range, of course. He once asked him, but Lucius only gave vague answers, from ‘cause I wanted to’ to ‘you were less bad’. The most realistic thing he could ever get out of him was that Lucius saw potential in him.

During the three years that Lucius studied with him, he showed him many things besides what it was like to be the protégé of a rich boy. He confessed secrets to him and taught him forbidden things, from Dark Arts books to what it was like to smoke a cigarette. Lucius always carried with him the best brands, which left a minty or sometimes fruity flavour. Severus always smiled a little when he thought of the first time he inhaled the cigarette smoke and nearly choked, Lucius' laugh natural and free from malice, genuinely amused by his inexperience.

"Try inhaling less, see if it's easier to hold it in”, he had said, showing him how to do it, his thin lips forming a fox smile when, on the second try, Severus was able to expel the smoke through his nose instead of suffocating.

Of course, offering cigarettes to a 13-year-old was reprehensible, but Severus didn't care. At least it was a vice that would only hurt him, compared to the one his father had, for example. The habit had stuck with him for the rest of his life, and while he couldn't get hold of those expensive cigarettes, he had learned to appreciate the simplicity of those that had no flavours.

When Lucius graduated, Severus felt awful. One would believe that it was because he would no longer have someone to defend him from everyone, which was a true point, but not the main one. Severus truly liked Lucius, and he was going to miss him oh so much, more than he would like to admit. Basically every afternoon was spent together, unless Lucius had too much homework or was out there to hook up with someone.

And speaking of hooking up, Severus would never forget the intimate moments he shared with the blond.

The first time they had kissed, for example. Severus was 15, Lucius 21, and they had run into Hogsmeade ‘by chance’. It happens that Lucius knew when the excursions would take place and in almost all of them he went through the trouble to go to the town to see him, spend the day together, many times lying in some remote corner of the world, doped to infinity and beyond. It was in one of those times when, without quite knowing why, he and Lucius exchanged glances and a second later, out of nowhere, they were kissing. Severus had never kissed anyone before, but Lucius of course had, so he was the one who showed him how to do it, how to move his lips with his, how to tangle their tongues perfectly. Lucius would confess to him a few days later, in a letter, that he might have not been as drugged as he had led him to believe, but that he simply couldn't think of another way to show his… interest in him.

Severus would have been angry had it not been for the ghost of his lips, thin and firm, pressing against his, biting gently, still felt on his.

It would take almost a year for them to take a significant step in their private relationships. After things went to hell with Lily, Severus became too depressed, resorting more intensely to his bad habits but too terrified to be intimate with Lucius. By then he didn’t hide his intentions, which had gone from simply kissing him to caressing him, to putting his hands under his robes, to marking his neck with his fangs. He hadn't touched him directly yet, as he wanted his explicit permission first, but he had pressed their bodies tight together, imprisoning him against a tree trunk, allowing him to feel what he caused in him, the kind of intense desire that he aroused within him.

His sexual tension only increased until, on Christmas’ Holidays in his sixth grade, Severus went to the Manor. Lucius had invited him, since he would stay home alone after his parents left on a trip to France.

"The Manor is rather big, and I feel terrified to be here all day alone, but I don't think I can survive the night without someone by my side. You will come with me, right?".

Severus had felt nervous to the point of wanting to puke. He thought that, as soon as he appeared at the Manor, Lucius was going to undress him and do all kinds of things to him in any part of the house; but it wasn’t like that. He was forgetting that Lucius, dying of desire as he was, was still a gentleman, and a patient one. So, he spent the first day showing Severus around the Manor, helping him arrange his things in an adjoining room, offering him the best food (and making sure he ate everything, knowing well how poorly he fed), letting him explore the vast library... Point is, he had let him do what he wanted, explore at ease, enjoy his home. Severus had been relieved at first, but by the end of the day the nervousness had returned stronger.

Lucius had teased him a bit when he saw his hands were shaking, the smile growing when he asked if he was ready, if he was sure, and the ash cheeks turned deep red. Severus nodded, refusing to speak for fear of stuttering and causing the blond to laugh more.

Taking his hand, the young Malfoy guided him to his own room, leaving him standing there as he closed the door, seconds later standing behind him, his mouth rushing to kiss and lick his neck, one arm wrapping around his waist and pressing him against his body, the other groping over his intimacy, waking him up as much as he was. Severus had exhaled a shaky sigh as they walked to the bed of silk sheets, where Lucius undressed him and dedicated himself to giving him all the pleasure in the world, to making him reach places that even with the use of drugs had never reached before.

And all this without the blond taking off a single garment.

When he did, showing his slim figure to the black-haired man, nestled between his legs, skin to skin, Severus could swear that he had touched the sky. Feeling Lucius' hips move against him, his hands holding his, his mouth going from his lips to his neck to his ear, where he moaned his name with passion and adoration... It was something unbelievable, something out-worldly.

He couldn’t determine, when they finished a long time later and Lucius got into the shower (“separated", he had said, "because otherwise it will do me no good to bathe"), if he enjoyed more of his lips travelling all over his body, every inch of it; or if instead he enjoyed more of every inch of him entering his body. Even when they did it again the next night, he couldn't know. He also didn’t know when they did it in the morning, nor on that day that they even forgot to eat, too entangled in pleasing and filling another type of hunger.

It was the best Christmas of his life.

He and Lucius continued their adventures until the blond got engaged, at which point he reluctantly stopped all kinds of sexual encounters with Severus out of respect for his future wife. Severus didn't mind as much as Lucius, being that his sexual drive and need were much lower than the older's, but it did leave him several restless nights, unable to sleep, having to settle for finding a way to give himself all that pleasure, alone.

The good thing was that they continued to frequent each other. Maybe there was no more sex involved, but their friendship was still strong, as was their interest in the Dark Arts and cigarettes and experimental drugs. They began to see each other much more after Severus' graduation and his official union with the Death Eaters, where Lucius was basically in command of him, giving him a little more freedom and confidence than the rest of the Dark Lord's followers.

It was only shortly after Halloween Eve of that fateful year that the two friends had another of those encounters. Severus desperately needed something to hold onto, someone to hold together all his broken bits, and Lucius was there for him, drunk enough to forget about his wife and sober enough to make sure that he wanted it, that Severus wanted it, and that it would only happen that time.

In the end, it happened more than ‘just that time’, but it also ended sooner than their libido would have liked.

Over the next several years, their contact became a little less frequent, a little more distant. Lucius had all the time in the world if he wanted it that way, having his life settled, but Severus carried too many things, and now he also had the responsibility of taking care of a lot of brats. Making sure they understood their classes, passed their exams, and didn't question his authority just because he was much younger than the other professors was something that took too much energy and time. By the time his godson entered Hogwarts, he and Lucius communicated mainly by letters, the constant visits being a thing of the past.

After the arrival of Draco and Potter, however, the blond's presence echoed once again in his life. It was still less constant than before, but every few months Lucius went to Hogwarts to see what his son was doing and to stick his nose in things that shouldn't matter to him, and of course, to hang out with the Potions professor. Usually they were content to drink tea in the younger's office, talking about how their lives were going and complaining about everything like two old ladies. Severus' mood improved significantly after his visits, and stayed that way for at least a couple of days, a record time for his standards.

Sometimes during those moments, he felt like hooking up with him again. The years suited him well, but Severus wasn't sure if it was an innate desire or if it was the blond's fault, who was still watching him with nothing short of lust.

By 1995, Severus and Lucius once again gave free rein to their wishes.

"I must admit, I'm surprised you're here, Sev", Lucuis commented, ushering Severus into his office at the Manor. “You usually spend summer vacations at Hogwarts, right?”.

"Yes, for it's too annoying to be among Muggles again", said the black-haired man, sitting down in the chair in front of the desk where Lucius was sitting. He looked around the room, a place he had never entered. It was quite simple, with a bookcase to his right and floor-to-ceiling windows in each corner, highly polished black wood furniture, a few plants to give it some life, and a fireplace to his left that lit up the room and kept the cold at bay. .

"I totally understand you in that sense", Lucius said. Severus let him finish counting his money instead of saying something, and the blond ended the work shortly after, closing the notebook he was writing in and stuffing all the galleons into a bag with a wave of his wand. “It's a total hassle, but I like to make sure everything is complete. Anyway, what brings you here, Sev? It's not that you're not welcome whenever you want, but I'd like to—”.

"Draco and Narcissa?", Severus interrupted. He didn't want to sound too eager, but the bothering he was carrying on his body was making him uneasy.

Lucius seemed to ignore his tone of voice, leaning back in his chair. He waved his hand.

"They went to the beach or something. You see, Draco loves hot weather and Narcissa had wanted to go swimming since Merlin knows when”, he explained. His grey eyes slid to black eyes, a kind of question in them. Slowly, almost cautiously, Lucius added: "They're not expecting me for three days, you know".

He didn't have to say more. In a second, Severus had risen from his seat, Lucius copying his action, and soon they were stumbling backward until they hit a wall, the black-haired man's hands gripping Lucius' hips as his tongue tangled with his, the blond’s hands unbuttoning Severus's clothes.

Without second thoughts, without asking a thing, Lucius soon pulled down his lover's trousers and knelt in front of him, his mouth moving to run his tongue the entire length of his. Severus closed his eyes and shoved his long fingers into Lucius' silky hair, letting him play and explore his body. He wanted to focus on pleasure, wanted to focus on forgetting about his doubts and problems. It felt kind of wrong (it would feel bad, if he weren't stuck in the other man's mouth and throat) to use Lucius as an escape, but there was no one to turn to, and God knew Lucius had no problem if he sought him out for those things.

Sooner rather than later, Severus could relax, let go of the weight that was always on his shoulders. His ragged gasps filled the silence of the office along with the wet and exciting noises Lucius made down there as he devoured him, hips moving to meet the slow rhythm that marked the blond's head.

He didn't let him finish, however, in typical Malfoy fashion. He rose instead, one hand going to tend to the erection, the other stroking his cheek before kissing him. Lucius always did everything dirty and kinky, and Severus loved to taste himself on his lips and his tongue.

"Let's go upstairs", the owner of the house declared, a rough nod from Severus the only response from him. With a wave of his wand, he pulled his pants up so that he could walk, although he left the important part in the air, so he could continue stroking him all the way to the room that was permanently reserved for Severus.

The door closed and robes flew through the air, mouths meeting in no time once again, bodies clenching and erections brushing against each other. They lay down on the bed, Lucius on top as usual, pushing his hips against Severus' body, increasing the friction of their intimacies.

"Oh, I’d give everything to fuck you in my own bed”, he gasped, licking and sucking and marking his jaw and his neck and his shoulders, hands intertwined, skins gradually covering in a light layer beaded with sweat.

Severus didn't reply, letting himself be carried away by pleasure. Oh yes, that was just what he needed to appease his thoughts, to clear his mind. It was a temporary relief, he knew it well, but better than nothing. Of course, Lucius was not a ‘better than nothing’, he was something better than many things, much better in fact, and breaking the rule that he had settled himself about not to fuck with him any more because he was a married man was something that he was willing to do, at least for this one time.

He didn't know when Lucius flipped their bodies, letting him sit on top of him. Severus took the cue and guided his bodies into the immoral union, a shaky gasp escaping his lips and a deep groan rumbling in the blond's chest. It was as if their bodies recognized each other, adjusting to each other immediately, allowing them to quickly find a rhythm instead of wasting time settling. Severus felt the depth that Lucius reached, delighted in that sensation and in the one that the blond provided with his hands, tending to his erection.

Beneath him, trying eagerly to suppress his sounds, Lucius watched him adoringly, dedicating all kinds of lewd words and commands, ranging from ‘as tight as ever’ to ‘I want you to cum on my chest’. Severus wanted to fulfil his whims, each and every one of them. Sometimes he wished Lucius were single. Sometimes he would like to belong to each other, for at least that way things would be easier and more bearable.

Desperation and the reckless pursuit of pleasure soon brought them both to an end, with Lucius finishing still inside him and Severus, indeed, on his chest. In the ecstasy of their encounter they closed their eyes in pure pleasure, Severus' name entangled in Lucius' moans, Lucius' one spilling like honey from Severus' mouth.

The young professor got up once he was completely finished, laying down next to the blond, breathing in forcefully to steady his agitated heart. He knew Lucius and knew that he would soon ask him if he was ready for another round, and he would be. They had three days to have fun, to forget their lives, to feel that they were each other’s and delude themselves in that illusion.

"Let me tell you", Lucius muttered hoarsely, gasping between breaths, "it's still as good as the first time”.

Severus nodded heavily, in complete agreement with his friend.

His old friend. That was all that Lucius could be, all that he could be to Lucius. It didn't matter how much Severus sometimes wished they were together, that they were more than just friends and occasional lovers. They would always rush to a bed and go no further, for Lucius's heart was light and volatile, and Severus' was too heavy and rested in pale hands with long fingers and reddened knuckles, hidden under a curtain of blond hair that did not belong in the absolute to the man lying next to him.

"How much do you fancy having something to cover your eyes?", the aforementioned asked a while later, when their pulse had returned to normal and their bodies were beginning to cool.

"As much as you do", Severus replied, willing to continue fooling himself for as long as he could by Lucius' side.

#snapedom #snapetober #snapetober 2021 #pro snape #snape fandom #snape community #severus snape #severus snape fanfiction #severus x lucius #snucius #lucius malfoy #lucius malfoy fanfiction #snape x lucius #lucius x severus

30 notes · View notes

feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

Text

chapter thirteen: black and silver

“Wow, what a story, honey.”

Sam had arrived into the harbor outside of Avalon right as the rains completely arrived, and she traded in a dollar for four quarters so she could call her mother and give a follow up as to what was going on with her. Once she had arrived at the harbor and took her back to her brand new house, Esmé thus treated her to a nice warm cup of a fusion of chai and black tea: it was tea time at the point anyway.

The house was a cute little cottage nestled in the low hillside that overlooked Avalon and most of the harbor right under a rouse of ponderosa pines and a palm tree: the small yard was decorated in small lush chaparral shrubs and bushes of bright pink pearly Catalina manzanita. Warm heavy wood lined the living room floor and the floor of the small but cozy kitchen; the wall behind them and the small comfy couch was a rich royal blue and carried a couple of framed photographs, one of which was Sam herself as a five year old girl. To the right stood the hallway which extended to her bedroom as well as the guest room and the spacious bathroom. Everything in that house was a warm amber or a royal blue, such that it reminded Sam of the shows in Boston and Providence.

“If I didn't know better, I'd swear we were in New England,” she confessed to her.

“Always wanted to live on Catalina,” Esmé told her as she lifted the tea bag out of the dark blue silver lined tea cup to ensure that it had completed steeping. “And I had a feeling you would like it, too. But the whole thing with Bill, though—that's—” She swallowed and Sam could see the agony in her face. “—I feel like I could've done something had you said something about it to me.”

“Well, see, that's the thing, though, Mom, is—I had no clue what he would do,” she confessed with a shake of her head. “He threw a glass at Belinda's head when they were getting me out of there. Missed her but he threw a glass at her, though! He actually locked me into the house at one point. The boys actually had to bust through a window just to get me out of there. They were about to go over to Germany, too—I'm glad they did because I know that man would've been furious about it. Surprised he never addressed it to me.”

“What's Germany like, by the way?”

“Beautiful. Just gorgeous—like Catalina or upstate New York but cleaner and a bit homelier, though. We were there for a week, and so Alex and I hung out for a full day together at one point. Went through the Black Forest and had authentic European beer on the train, too.” She dared not tell her mother that she left him there at the train station nearby the border to East Germany.

“I'll have to introduce you to him, though,” Sam told her as she held the cup of tea close to her chest. “He's really sweet, Mom.”

“As sweet as Joey was?”

“Sweeter. As kind as Joey is to me, I feel like there was something missing between us, like there needed to be something more there with us.”

“Did you feel any chemistry between the two of you?” Esmé asked her.

“Yeah, I did,” Sam replied. “But—I'm not sure how to explain it, though. All the touches and the little grins he'd show me—you've seen his crooked little smile.”

“Oh, yeah. Just like the man I used to know when your father and I were together at first.”

“Speaking of which... did you ever find him again?”

Esmé shook her head.

“I haven't seen him since your father and I got married,” she confessed. “And he was about to head back up to the northern half of the state, but that's—that's where it starts and ends, though. I couldn't exactly say where he had gone off to or what he planned on doing afterwards.”

The tag on the tea bag dangled off the silvery edge of the cup as she took a sip.

“Mmm—have you tried this tea, Sam? Locally grown. Practically everything here is locally grown and supported. We get things from the mainland, but it's rather endemic, though. It's especially the case over in Two Harbors.”

“This past summer, Louie and I took a road trip from the Bay Area back to Elsinore, and we went all along the coast, along the Pacific Coast Highway and the 1—and he showed me that one part of the Salinas River, right before it gets to the ocean.”

“Oh, I love that part of the state,” she told her, “all along the coastline. I considered moving to outside of Ukiah, right up close to the coastline up there but this place here on Catalina came up and it was an offer I simply could not refuse.”

“Nice little boat ride, too,” Sam added.

“Oh, yes. It's not often, though. Things are pretty self sustainable around here. I figured if it's really something that you wish for, like it's imperative that you return to the mainland, that's probably the one time you go across the Channel with the boat or with the sea plane. Some forty years ago, eight inches of snow fell on the mountain right over here.”

“Wow,” Sam raised her eyebrows at that.

“Yeah, you don't really think of an island off the coast of California as having snow,” Esmé chuckled. “But it happened. Hawai'i gets snow every so often, too, so does Seattle. And coincidentally, so does the Bay Area. It's nothing like Elsinore or the San Gabriels or northern Nevada, but it does happen every so often, though.” She took another sip of her tea and then shook her head and closed her eyes at the flavor. Sam took a sip herself: rich and subdued at the same time, and almost minty as well, and with a kiss of sugar to augment it a bit.

“Ooh, that's nice,” she remarked.

“See?” Esmé smiled at her and she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “So what are they like? The other band you're friendly with now?”

“Testament? They're dark but they're not like... satanic, though. They've got skulls and things surrounding them and their image, but I promise you, they're not satanic, Mom.”

“What are they called again?”

“Testament. I mean, it's even in the name. It should be indicative that they're not satanic.”

“Sounds more like they're about to preach a sermon of sorts,” Esmé confessed. “Like I think of the Old Testament.”

“Preach and give us what for—but not in the way in which Bill did with me, though. Their church is one of—guitars and hard fast music and having fun, too. Having fun with all of us ladies, too.”

Esmé laughed at that.

“Oh, god,” Sam declared and she picked out a delicate pink petit four from the plate on the narrow coffee table next to them, “one time—this was last summer, actually—we were all touring over in Boston and a few ladies were walking past us on the sidewalk and they called the four of us—Marla, Belinda, Zelda, and me—all satanic for hanging out with a bunch of metal boys. And Zelda was like 'yeah, a band called Testament is satanic!' and Marla and I both laughed out loud at that.”

Esmé herself chuckled in response to that as she held her tea cup up to her lips once more. Sam took a bite of the little cake in all of its light fluffiness, and then one more bite of it.

“What are they called again?” she asked her.

“Who, Zelda's band? The Cherry Suicides. It conjures the image of a human sacrifice—like a virgin giving herself up—or simply a woman stabbing herself in the chest.”

“So violent,” she remarked with a shake of her head.

“But that's what makes them so awesome, though. That same night, we were in Boston, and they were allotted right before Anthrax and Testament's sets. They did this song called 'Dead Witches', it was like a seven minute long jam. One minute of hardcore punk and then their guitarist Minerva just launched into this big long solo. Given they're a punk band, their songs are usually only a couple of minutes. But right there, they just showed that they're as a big of a power house as the boys themselves, too.” Sam sipped on the tea again so as to wash down the petit four.

“They're all real nice, too. These four tough looking chicks all the way from Providence, but they're so kind, though. They love their fans and they're easily some of the most polite people I've met.”

“They've been through a lot, too, you said.”

“Yeah, they have! All the break ups and the drama with the record labels and—” Sam shook her head as she thought about Aurora. “Long time coming for them, though. I hope I get to see them again.”

“You're gonna have to go back to the mainland anyways,” Esmé pointed out.

“Yeah, I promised Alex I would.”

“You said he's sweet.”

“Yeah, he is. He's funny—he's the kind of guy you don't really like at first until he finds a way inside of you. He's got this little bit of gray hair over his brow, too. He turned twenty back in September.”

“Twenty years old and he's already going gray?” Esmé gaped at that.

“He's been going gray, though,” Sam pointed out. “I remember him telling me about it but I don't remember the full details, though, except he's had it since he was like fourteen. When we first met him, it was like this little sliver over his brow and now it's this little tuft. It's weird, too, like it's just this little tiny bundle of gray hair on that part of his head, and just that part of his head, too. The rest of his hair is completely solid black.”

“Huh.”

“Aurora told me her—grandmother, I think it was—had something similar to that. No idea what causes it, either.”

“Maybe it's a birthmark. It's a long shot, but it is possible, though.”

“Could be, but—who knows, really.” Sam shrugged her shoulders. “He's been dyeing it, too.”

“Can't blame him,” Esmé admitted. “A boy his age going gray so early—you might as well keep your hair uniform.”

“He says it ages him.”

“And it does, too. I remember the very day your father initially went gray—and yes, it aged him several years. I remember the day I started going gray, too. Can't imagine how it makes him feel.”

They sipped on their tea in unison and the rain outside fell even harder on the rooftop and porch outside.

“I'm gonna assume the other reason why you moved here,” Sam started again, “and not the coastline is because this feels like the quintessential place to write a novel.”

“Exactly!” Esmé declared with a laugh. “There's only a couple thousand people here and no one to bother me, either.”

“Except me of course,” Sam pointed out.

“You're not bothering me, sweetie. You never bother me—if there's anything I can genuinely take away from you living so far away for a few years, it's that I miss having you around.”

“Well, even though I consider New York as my home, I can always ensure a trip out here. I might as well ensure that, anyways: I've got friends out this way.”

“So nice of them to bail you out of there, too.”

“Yeah, I mean—Greg got me out through the back window the first time around and we got down to Alhambra without sparing any expense. And then Eric literally busted through a window to get me out of that house. And then they took me to Germany for a week.”

“And you like the Bay Area, too.”

“The Bay Area is stunning. They took me to the place where Cliff's ashes are spread out—and it just felt like a—a—a pilgrimage of sorts. Eric showed me where he was from. Louie and I took a road trip together down the coastline.”

“And Alex took you home.”

“And Alex took me home, right,” she echoed, that time in a soft voice. “And he was in Aurora's wedding, too...”

Maybe she had in fact been far too hard on him as she sipped on the tea some more. She thought of him over there on the mainland, with the guys all around him. She hoped that, since she was on Catalina with her mother and not over there with them, that Bill would keep his distance from Reseda. She knew that he was far and away from there, and yet that fear still lingered over her.

At the same time, she began to think about Joey again and moreover, how in the world he managed to find a new woman to substitute her back home back East. The only way he would have found out is if someone back there told him, and as far as she knew, Louie never approached him once. In fact, the more she thought about it, the less sense it made to her. The only way she could even so much as find out about it is if she sought answers from the man himself, and it would be a little bit before she got to see him again in Long Beach.

That is if she could.

Afterwards, Esmé treated her to a bite of dinner at one of the cafes there in Avalon. Given it was raining, they retreated inside of there and shared a pina colada, even in the middle of December and a week before Christmas.

If nothing, Sam was glad to be around her mother again, even if Ruben was up in the Bay Area from that point onward. If nothing, it would be a rather interesting Christmas there on Catalina with all of the manzanita and all of the endemic plants about there, much like on her road trip with Louie: her mother joked about having a small palm tree in the front room of the house for the tree, although it made legitimate sense to Sam.

She knew that she would have to get used to the idea of having a split household from then on: divided over the entire state of California and she considered on returning to New York when all was said and done. However, she had her doubts about that, especially with Joey having his hands on another woman.

She took a warm shower to rid of the feeling traveling had given her and then she curled under the covers in her old bed tucked away there in the guest room. All the while she thought about Joey himself. She pictured him with his hands all over that other woman and she wondered if Frank genuinely saw them hold hands with one another or if he caught a fleeting glimpse of them and put two and two together. But she couldn't help it: she pictured him with a long and lanky supermodel, not a stubby little dark haired woman such as herself.

She rolled over onto her back and she wondered if he would return to her if she was a supermodel herself. Long narrow legs with big stiletto heels. The perfect hourglass shape to her body and her breasts so perky that no one could resist them. She could have the boys all to herself if that was the case with her.

If anything, as she thought about it more, she wondered as to why all of the guys even liked her in the first place because with every glimpse in the mirror, especially when she stood there after her shower and examined her nude body, she just saw a plain young woman with dark hair and dark eyes. She looked just like every other woman on the street as far as she could tell.

Nothing discernible as far as she could tell, either: nothing like doll-like features with Belinda or ever changing hair like Marla, or even something interesting like premature grays or having parents who hailed from both sides of the Korean peninsula.

And she bounced around with her weight as if it was the easiest thing in the world: but at least this time around, she was on the downswing. She glanced down at her body as it lay underneath the covers: the tips of her feet pointed up down at the base of that narrow mattress. She let her hand slide over the sheet, towards the right side.

She could still feel Cliff there next to her. She could still feel his presence, even with his smell gone away from her olfactory memory and even with the feel of his body vanished from the caress of her hand.

She could also feel Joey next to her. They were so close a few times. She actually got to put her lips around him not once, but twice.

And then, just like that, he went off with another woman all because she didn't resemble to a supermodel.

So many questions and all she could do was fall right into a dreamless sleep.

It wasn't until she awoke the next morning to the dense marine layer and the feeling Christmas was upon her when she realized she hadn't seen the mysterious man for months, as if he had vanished from her dreams forever.

After breakfast, Esmé drove her back down to the harbor for the next boat ride back over to San Pedro.

“I'll be waiting for you, sweetie,” she vowed to her as she held her in her arms away from the rain.

“No idea how long the show will be, though,” Sam confessed as she ran her fingers through her dark hair.

“I'll be waiting for you regardless of it, though.” She flashed her a wink and blew her a kiss before Sam boarded that little blue and white boat with her purse on her shoulder and her questions ready for Joey; she also had her explanation ready for Marla and Belinda, even though she had faith Alex had told them about it. She took her seat on the starboard side and peered over the edge to the gray ocean waters down below.

Twenty two miles across those waters and with the marine layer overhead, and soon the edge of California emerged in view: the coast seemed to extend on either side of them for as far as the eye could see. Sam thought about the Highway 1 on her road trip and how it all felt so endless and eternal at the same time, even if it was obvious the end of it came soon enough.

As the coast became clearer and clearer, she spotted that car in the parking lot before the dock. Even from a whole mile away, she recognized his tall body and those jet black curls. She didn't even have to see that little tuft of gray on his head to know that it was him there.

They reached the dock and Sam bolted off of the boat first and she hurried up to him.

“It's the damnedest thing, I can literally see you a mile away,” she told him as part of her greeting to him.

“You wanna know something?” he asked her as he set a hand on her shoulder.

“What's that?”

“I can, too. A mile out and I saw you peeking over the edge.”

“You could literally see me?” she chuckled.

“Yeah! Anyways, come on—the doors don't open until way later but—you know the drill.”

Alex drove her up to Reseda with nothing more than the side streets. He was silent the whole way and she could only assume that he had told Marla and Belinda what had happened. But she could only assume regardless of it all.

They reached the club in question and he parked around the back in the alleyway, much to where Sam thought she was about to bow headfirst into the dashboard in front of her.

“Sorry—I'm still trying to get used to it,” he confessed with a shrug. She let out a low whistle.

“Well, at least you weren't speeding,” she pointed out. He climbed out first; she followed him up to the back door there. All the memories of the Stormtroopers of Death tour returned as he held the door for her. She walked into the back hallway there, where two women congregated around Greg and his bass guitar. He nodded at her and Alex, and they both turned for a look back at them.

So he didn't tell them because they just got there themselves.

“THERE SHE IS!” Marla declared at the top of her lungs.

Belinda's snake pendant glittered under the pale lights with each and every step of the way. She threw her arms around her first and then she gaped at Sam. Marla shook her head and gaped at her.

“What the hell, Sam? Why'd you bail on us?”

She was taken aback at that. “I did?”

“Yeah,” Belinda followed up as Greg joined them there at the back door, “after you got the news that Joey had left you for another woman, you just sorta—went rigid and then you disappeared out of the cafe and just started walking up the road. We tried to get you back with us, but you were like 'no! I'll get there on my own!' Didn't even tell us where you were going, either.”

“Wow.” She slowly rubbed her hands together at the sound of that. “I—I don't even remember doing that. I can't believe I did that to you.”

“You must've just blacked out,” Greg explained. “Like it hit you so hard that your mind went completely blank.”

“Yeah, I was thinking about that yesterday after I dropped her off at San Pedro,” Alex followed up, “like—it sounds like she just completely blacked out.”

“Yeah, you were completely checked out at that point,” Belinda added. “I couldn't even get you to pay any attention.”

“Well, yeah, I mean—Joey is my guy. At least, I thought he was.” Sam stopped herself because the tears were coming back to her. “Did—Frankie give any more explanation as to why he went with another woman?”

Marla and Belinda glanced at one another, and then the former shook her head: her neon green hair shimmered about under the bright light of the backstage area.

“No, he just said, 'tell Sam that—I spotted Joey with another woman, and they look in love, too. Probably more so than the two of them.'”

Sam closed her eyes and bowed her head a bit.

“If we see him, we're gonna have a long talk with him,” Belinda vowed.

“The three of us or just me?”

“We'll help you,” Marla promised her. “Aurora's not here right now—obviously—so she's way out of the loop.”

“Push comes to shove, since he took your heart from you—we'll take something from him,” Belinda added.

“We won't go that far,” Marla told her off. “Especially since there's more than likely a good explanation behind it.” She fetched up a sigh and shook her head again. “San Pedro, you said, Alex?”

“My mom lives on Catalina now,” Sam pointed out. “Remember?”

“Oh, yeah, that's right! Okay, so you went to your mom's house.”

“And Alex drove you there, too,” Greg added with a nod.

“I was driving down yesterday and there was traffic on the freeway when I got to Bakersfield, and I was like 'ah, jeez.' So I took a detour all through some farmland and I saw her walking on the side of the road. I was like, 'is that Samantha? Oh my god it is!' So I pulled over and got her in the car with me and I drove her there before the snow hit the Grapevine.”

“Drove me all the way down to the docks,” Sam added in a soft voice; something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye, and she spotted a man with his back turned to them. But she remembered his head of thinning black hair, still long and down past his shoulders. He was talking to Louie as she approached him from behind and tapped on his shoulder.

“Hey, Scott!”

“Hey!” He put his arms around her. “How've you been?”

“Been over at my mom's house—she lives on Catalina, now. Twenty miles off the coast.”

“Wow.” He raised his thick eyebrows at that. “So how's life in Elsinore? I heard some things about that.”

“I don't live there anymore. Marla and Bel got me out of there. I might find my way back to New York officially soon enough.”

“Cool!” He gave her a high five at that.

“By the way, how'd you find out about my living in Elsinore?”

“Marla. I saw her running down the street a while back and I asked her what was going on, and she told me to take her over to your old school—I was driving. She did some things in there and then she came back out and she told me what happened to you. She asked me to keep it between us and so I did.”

Louie raised his head and nodded at her.

“Hey—poison garden,” she greeted him. Louie hesitated and then he laughed at that.

“Poison garden!” He bumped fists with her and Scott looked at them both, confused.

“It's—a long story,” Sam told him.

“It really is,” Louie added, and then he laughed at something behind her. She turned for a look back at Greg and Alex with Marla and Belinda: Greg slung his bass over his shoulder and then he let it rest right onto his back.

“You're gonna do what Joey did, aren't you?” Louie joked as the three of them walked on over to that side of the backstage area.

“Nah—just wanna see what the crowd's gonna be like out there.” He poked his head out from behind the curtain for a better look out to the front row of the crowd: Louie and Alex joined in, as did Sam and Marla right behind them. They were met with a sea of heads, a few of whom near the front had little elephants on their sleeves. It took Sam a second to realize that those were the Republican elephants with their red make up and the little white stars on their feet. Alex had his eye on all three of them and he frowned at the sight of them.

“What's up?” she asked him.

“Yeah, this new album is definitely gonna be titled that,” he assured her. “Practice What You Preach.”

“This is bringing back all those memories of when we were first starting out,” Greg added, “we were playing in clubs up in the Bay Area. And there were a bunch of people who were talking about Reagan and we weren't having any of it.”

“Oh, yeah, it's definitely gonna have that title.”

The bunch of them backed away from there and Alex snapped his fingers.

“What?” Sam asked him, and he gestured for her to follow him. But he only led her to the little table tucked in the corner right behind him where he had set down a black backpack for safe keeping.

“I forgot to show you this, by the way,” he told her as he unzipped the front pocket, “—when I took you down to San Pedro yesterday.”

He flashed her a Polaroid photograph of a silver menorah on a table somewhere. All around the base stood a series of little yellow marigolds: each of the eight candles were lit with those pure yellow flames.

“Candles—lit for me?”

He opened his mouth to say something but he was cut off by Greg singing off key to something. Alex turned his head in his direction as Greg slapped and plucked at the thick bass strings.

“What's all this?” Alex demanded.

“Nana na na na! Nana na na na!”

“Greg!”

“Huh?”

“What're you doing?”

“Sorry, I was just singing. We are getting paid to do this, you know, Alex.”

“True.”

The back door swung open again and Alex set a hand on Sam's shoulder so as to get her out of the way. Chuck and Tiffany stepped inside, away from the fine drizzle that began to fall over Los Angeles.

“I saw our pals from Slayer in the crowd here,” Chuck pointed out.

“Where's Slayer?” Sam wondered aloud. “Where's Slayer? Where's Slayer?”

“I didn't see them, either,” Marla added.

“They're there, though,” Tiffany assured them, and Chuck's face lit up at the sight of Sam.

“Hey, Sammich! C'mon over here. I got something to give you.”

“Well, it's from me and him both,” Tiffany corrected him.

“What is it?”

He kept his hand behind his back and he showed her a thoughtful look on his face.

“Close your eyes and hold out your wrist,” he told her. She did just that and she felt something smooth brush against her skin. He tied something right atop his wrist.

“Okay,” he told her, and she opened her eyes. He had given her a bracelet of black onyx beads and fire opal sugar skulls.

“Oh my god, Chuck, it's beautiful!” she gasped.

“It's a friendship bracelet. I got one, too!” He showed her the twin bracelet on his wrist as well and she threw her arms around him.

“Thank you,” she whispered right into his ear.

“And thank you,” he whispered back to her.

“Hey, if nothing, we can name our new album Poison Garden,” Louie joked to Greg and Alex.

“No!” Sam whirled around and she pointed over at Louie himself, and he lunged back a bit as a result.

“No?”

“That's 'not' to you!” Scott called out from across the floor and Marla and Belinda both cackled at that.

2 notes · View notes

remus-la-swearwolf · 5 years

Text

Marauders Headcanons

James:

Snaps his fingers when he speaks

Morning person

The arsehole who pulls the blankets off u

Sirius tried to murder him when he did this

Sings opera in the shower

Can yodel really well

Gets high off sugar

Was recruited to the Slug Club after spotting the Snitch in first year before the Seeker

Can pull off Chaser and Seeker

Wanted to leave Hogwarts when he found out firsties couldn't play

Has a lot of biscuits, courtesy of Minerva McGonagall

Has an ongoing prank war with Lily

Invented pumpkin bombs in Third Year

Really gets on well with Madam Rosmerta

Peter Pettigrew:

Has so many beanies

Makes a lot of cat puns behind McGonagall’s back

Really struggles with lessons

Secretly really talented at art

Myrtle once asked him out

They went out for a month

Until she kept popping up when he used the toilet

Really close with the Kitchen Elves

Does a conspiracy column in the “Hogwarts Times” with Xenophilius Lovegood

Great to confide in

Plans cover stories in his head before the prank is actually carried out

Always has a good alibi

Likes spiders for some reason

The shortest Marauder

Really good at Divination

Predicted a lot of the stuff that broke the Marauders up

Nobody listened to him

Remus Lupin:

Talks about “the universe” a lot when he’s drunk

And gives passionate speeches on philosophy and theology

Which he doesn’t know anything about

Has lots of deep conversations late at night when he should be asleep and his eyes are falling shut

Everyone thinks he’s stoned a lot of the time

Freckles and acne scars

Has anxiety

Withdraws from his friends once in a while cos “they’re all going to leave anyway”

It takes a while to convince him that they’re there for him

Swears way too much

Spread the rumour that Snape was a vampire in the Illuminati

Half the school believed it at some point

The Marauders went around wearing garlic earrings and necklaces for three weeks

Sooooo sarcastic

Wears Sirius’ leather jacket over his sweaters

Doesn’t turn in his homework in on time

The worst prefect ever

Went to a Halloween party as himself because “I’m the biggest monster here”

Sirius Black Lupin:

Calls McGonagall “Professor Toebeans” because “if I’m Padfoot, then why shouldn’t I?”

Has a long list of pet names for “Minnie McG”

Spent two years learning how to tip his chair

Fell on his arse a lot

Spent a week in St. Mungo’s after drinking nearly two gallons of Firewhisky on a dare

It took ages for him to stop saying Mudblood entirely although he knew it was wrong

Hates himself for still having thoughts about blood purity

Sometimes James’ cloak, Remus, and Sirius go inexplicably missing for long periods of time

They come up with the most bullshit excuses

“We were taking the cloak for a walk”

“It wanted to see the Squid”

Found out what a motorbike was in Muggle Studies

The Order t-shirts were his idea

Ocassionally rages about his mother

Started a new house with Barbarossa Brocklewank as its founder

Took Divination for a laugh

Told the Professor she was in for “a minty morning” when he read his tea leaves

Didn’t notice the shackles at the bottom of the cup

PM for reposts on other websites

7K notes · View notes

lupinlongbottom · 4 years

Text

Burning Bridges pt. 2

Neville Longbottom x Reader

Summary: First day of school! First day of fighting! Wait what? Neville convinces (Y/N) to chat with him, explain what had been going on for the last five years. It’s not much, but it’s a start.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: some swearing, angst if you squint idk

A/N: i’m not good at angst. i’m also not good at plot? dunno. trying hard, my dudes. i have like, 6 plot points i want to hit but this chapter hits none of them. filler? idk. angst? who’s to say? enjoy!

Part 1 ... Part 3 ... Part 4 ... Part 5 ... Part 6 ... Part 7

It had taken nearly all day to get her classroom in order. McGonagall wasn’t joking, the previous Potions Master, Atticus Barclay, was a bit of a hoarder and a terribly messy one at that. To (Y/N)’s knowledge, Slughorn had retired only a year after the Battle of Hogwarts, leaving a rather necessary spot to be filled quickly. Not exactly the wisest choice, she noted. (Y/N) finished dusting the final shelf, turning the label on the fluxweed jar outward.

“Atticus you swine,” (Y/N) groaned, stretching her back. “Honestly, any worthwhile Potions Master would’ve taken much better care of their workspace…”

She took a step back, admiring her handiwork. No more did the dungeon feel like it had in her school years. (Y/N) had opened the curtains, allowing the little bit of sunlight to filter in. A few waves of her wand allowed ivy to grow, following the curvature of the ceiling, dangling ever so slightly. Felt homey. Inviting. A barn owl rested on (Y/N)’s shoulder, nuzzling her face slightly.

“Hello, Edgar,” She smiled, petting him gently. “You like the place? Seems more my style, no?”

The barn owl sputtered a response, flying over to the window.

“I know you want to go fly, but I haven’t got any letters to send,” (Y/N) sighed. “As usual. You can make laps around the castle, right?”

Edgar’s black eyes bore into (Y/N)’s, almost as if he was cross. No, (Y/N) decided. Her owl, best friend, was cross.

“If you want me to send a letter so bad, I could convince myself to send mum one. I know how much you love flying through Bristol to get to her,” Edgar stood silent. “Right. I’ll think about it,” (Y/N) turned to her owl. “Maybe I should cast a warming charm in the winter…”

“(Y/N)!” Neville smiled, practically running into the Potions classroom. He sat down next to (Y/N). “Got here early, as usual it seems.”

(Y/N) grinned widely at her friend. “Never late, to Potions at least. I want to pass my O.W.L’s somehow.”

“If anyone had to worry about not passing their Potions O.W.L, it wouldn’t be you,” Neville laughed.

“You flatter me, Longbottom,” said (Y/N), watching a wisp of her breath escape her lips. “You’d think Snape would put a warming charm on this room when snow’s on the ground, right?” She rubbed her arm slowly, trying to warm up.

“You’re cold?” Neville’s eyes widened. “You should’ve worn your cardigan! I tell you that every time we have class.”

“You know I like the look of vests much better,” (Y/N) teased, moving her hand to her nose, pinching it lightly. “Besides, someone jinxed my jumpers. Shrink every time I touch them.”

“Again?” Neville brought his voice to a whisper. “You’ve got to stop letting them bully you like that…”

“You’re one to talk!” (Y/N) quipped, giggling slightly. “I tried enchanting my chest to keep them out, but maybe I need to try something different.”

“In any case,” Neville stood up, walking behind (Y/N). “You should at least be warm in your favorite class.” Suddenly, (Y/N) felt a slight weight on her shoulders. Intrigued, she glanced down to see a familiar gray cardigan. Gryffindor cardigan. Neville sat back down, sans jumper, his cheeks dusted pink. From the cold, of course.

“Snape’s going to dock at least 10 points from Gryffindor when he sees you not wearing the proper uniform,” (Y/N) said, fighting back the biggest smile from her face.

“It’ll be like any other class, then,” Neville shrugged, moving to fix the jumper now atop of (Y/N)’s shoulders, wearing it like a cape. “Y-you can keep it, if you want.”

“What? No, I can’t keep it! It’s—”

“Keep it until you can un-jinx your jumpers. It’s bloody freezing.”

“On second thought… the cold builds character.”

It had only taken three outfit changes for (Y/N) to finally settle on a pair of matching robes and a hat, mauve in color. They were once her mother’s, passed down in hopes (Y/N) would make better use of it at Hogwarts.

“I guess she’s right,” (Y/N) hummed, readjusting her hat. “Don’t you think I look just ghastly in hats?” Her head turned to the barn owl, sitting on his perch adjacent to the full length mirror. The owl cooed. “Exactly right. I do look like my grandmother. Always the observatory owl, Edgar,” (Y/N) glanced at the clock. “Shit! I’m going to be late!”

Flying out the door, (Y/N) hardly had the moment to recognize the figure exiting his door as well. The two collided, knocking both parties to the ground.

“I’m so sorry!” (Y/N) blurted, grabbing the wall to steady herself upward. “Are you alright?”

“Been better,” Neville groaned, rubbing his forehead.

“Oh, Professor Longbottom,” (Y/N) readjusted her robe, reluctantly offering her hand.

“Thanks,” Neville forced a smile, his lips drawing a fine line. He took her hand, fingers lingering for a moment too long. He pulled away at the realization. “Running late?”

“Old habits,” she shrugged. “I see you’re not exactly punctual tonight either.”

“Gran sent me an owl, had to reply before I forgot,” said Neville, smiling at the thought. “Wished me luck on my first day.”

“That’s sweet of her, how is she—” (Y/N) stopped herself, coughing lightly. “Well, by any means it’s not wise for the two newest professors to be late on the first night.”

“Of course not, that’d be barbaric. I doubt McGonagall would let us hear the end of it,” He laughed, expecting a response. Nothing. “Is that your hat?” Neville pointed to the mauve pile to the left of her.

(Y/N) glanced downward. “So it is,” She gently leaned down to retrieve it, placing it again on her head. “Is it on straight?”

“Isn’t it a circle? How could it be on straight? Is there a wrong way to wear a witch hat?”

“I’ll go check my mirror then—”

“You look spectacular,” Neville grabbed (Y/N)’s hand, stopping the witch from re-entering her room. “We’re running late as it is, come on.”

The run to the Great Hall wasn’t the most graceful, but years of practice and memorization of the hallways of Hogwarts allowed the two to arrive just before the rest of the students. McGonagall eyed the two of them down, almost disapprovingly.

“I see you two made it,” she said, slightly sour. Her eyes glanced down between the two wizards, noticing their hands were still intertwined from the run. “I do suggest, however, that you keep any and all personal relationships between the two of you absent from the students,” (Y/N) realized what she had meant, immediately pulling her hand away, almost angry at the lack of warmth.

“Oh, we’re not—”

“Students tend to gossip,” Minerva smiled, glancing down at (Y/N). “I would assume you of all people would know that much, Professor (L/N).”

“Yes, Headmistress.” (Y/N) responded meekly, dipping her head down, eyes disappearing from the brim of her hat, hopefully covering the growing pink in her cheeks.

Neville laughed. “Sorry for that,” his hand moved to fix his rather perfectly gelled hair, a strand had flown loose. “I had to stop you from going back into your room somehow.”

“You didn’t have to grab my hand, I know my way around the castle,” (Y/N) huffed, marching up to the faculty table that sat in the front of the hall.

“You didn’t let go, though,” Neville smiled slightly, if only to himself.

(Y/N) found one of two empty seats, thankfully not next to one another. The wizard that was sitting in the seat next to hers was unfamiliar to (Y/N). His dark brown hair was tied together with a gold ribbon, the hair touching nearly the bottom of his robe hood. He looked young, maybe a few years older than (Y/N), slight wrinkles dancing the corners of his violet eyes.

“Is this seat taken?” (Y/N) asked, smiling gently. The wizard shook his head.

“Of course not,” He hummed, gesturing for (Y/N) to sit down. “I must say, I can already tell you’re going to be better company than Barclay.”

“This was his seat?” (Y/N) asked again, finally settling into her seat. The students had started filing into the hall, sitting at their respective house tables.

“He smelled of murtlap bile and cigars half the time,” He hummed, looking at (Y/N). “I enjoy your perfume much better,” the wizard sniffed deeply. “Mint. Slightly musty.”

“It’s not perfume,” (Y/N) flamed. “I hardly wear any. It must be my toothpaste, or potions ingredients.”

“Alright Minty,” the wizard laughed, enjoying his new nickname for (Y/N). “I assume you have a name?”

“(Y/N) (L/N), Potions Master,” She nodded. “You are…?”

“Lancelot Knight, Muggle Studies,” He shook (Y/N)’s hand. Firm, almost constricting.

“Lancelot…Knight?” (Y/N) fought back a laugh.

“Most people call me Lance, I actually prefer it,” He laughed. “My parents, bless their hearts, really had it out for me I reckon.”

“Strong name,” (Y/N) hummed. “Nice to meet you, Professor Knight.”

The first years had finally filed in, ready to be sorted by the ever elusive hat. (Y/N) had to fight back the tears each time a student was claimed to her house, like a proud mother. She had never met these kids, but was sorely excited to do such, to teach them. As the dinner went on, (Y/N) tried to memorize every moment she could, raking in her first night as a professor.

Neville had been staring at (Y/N) for quite some time. He really didn’t intend to. Why had she been trying to ignore him? All he wanted was his friend back. They were practically best mates years ago, what happened? Surely their fight couldn’t have left scars that deep on (Y/N), right? He swallowed hard, crossing the now empty hall over to the mauve-clad witch.

“(Y/N) I really think we should talk,” He started, smoothing his robes. Neville caught the eye of the wizard sitting next to her, he looked like he hadn’t taken a proper bath in weeks. “Please. Hear me out.”

“Professor Longbottom,” (Y/N) sighed. “I really don’t see—”

“Please. Just one conversation and then you can go back to ignoring me,” Neville pleaded. “I need closure. We need closure.”

“Closure?” (Y/N) stood up. “Closure to what? If the last five years were any indication to what sort of relationship we could possibly have—”

“We don’t need to be friends,” Neville felt particularly bold, cutting (Y/N) for the second time. “We don’t need to go back to where we were before, but I want to at least… I don’t know. Clear the air.”

Lance laughed. “Wow. The tension in this room is… pliable. Could run a knife through it,” He stood up. “I dunno, Minty. I reckon you should give plant-boy a chance, at least a walk in the moonlight.”

She groaned lightly, feeling both sets of eyes digging deep into her. “One lap."

Neville’s ears perked up, grinning lightly. “One lap?"

“Around the grounds. Clear as much air as you need,” She stood up, pushing her chair back hard. “You can meet me in the courtyard, I don’t think I could stand another minute in this hat.”

“Right,” Neville fought back his growing grin. “See you in a few.” He darted out, practically running to the teacher’s wing.

Lance laughed again. “Ex-boyfriends can be a pain, can’t they? Been there, done that,” He flattened his kerchief. “Though, ex-girlfriends are much messier. ‘Bout fifty-fifty, really.”

“He’s not my ex-boyfriend,” (Y/N) stated matter-of-factly.

“Right,” He smirked. “Whatever the case, I hope you enjoy your walk, Minty.”

(Y/N) took her time returning to her chambers. Neville could wait a moment, he could wait a thousand moments. She knew he would. Was it unfair of her? Perhaps. She tried not to dwell on it, as she really needed to change into something less constricting.

Filtering through her dresser, (Y/N) had found the black trousers she had been searching for, but was distraught on a top. “It’s a windy night, better wear something warm…” she mumbled, opening her jumper drawer. She owned too many sweaters for one person, as they were her favorite thing to wear. The scratching wool felt comforting, warm. “I know I have that blue one in here somewhere…” Flinging through her collection, her hands stopped, reaching a gray one, the trim gold and maroon. (Y/N) allowed her fingers to trace the messy stitching underneath the tag.

N . L

“Stupid,” (Y/N) mumbled, throwing the cardigan to the side, revealing the blue jumper she had been searching for. “Edgar, what do you think?”

The owl clicked his beak twice, floating down to the discarded cardigan.

“Eddie…” (Y/N) strained. “No, I’m not going to return it! Not now, anyway. It’s been seven years,” Edgar stared at his owner, fluffing the jumper with his talons. “Well don’t ruin it...” (Y/N) whispered, clawing it out of the owl’s grip. She folded it gently, placing it on her nearly empty counter, next to an old Honeydukes box. An old gift. (Y/N) hesitated for a moment, almost begging herself to pry it open.

“I shouldn’t keep him waiting any longer,” she decided, pulling the blue wool over her head. “Like a plaster, rip it off quickly.”

The moon was almost full, only a sliver missing from the round figure, allowing the entire courtyard to shimmer in its light. The fountain still babbled as always, water tricking down to the pool below. Neville focused on his reflection as well has he could, his hair still neatly gelled back. Well, as neat as it could be.

“She’s taking a long time…” Neville hummed, twirling a finger in his reflection, distorting the water. “Is she trying to pull a prank on me?Never going to show up? No,” Neville clicked, shaking his head. “Shut up, Longbottom. She’s your friend—was your friend.”

“Sorry I’m late,” said (Y/N), finally entering the courtyard. “Couldn’t decide on a jumper.”

“Miss wearing uniforms?”

“All the time,” (Y/N) groaned. “Never have to worry about what to wear, always put on the same thing.”

Neville smiled, standing up to meet (Y/N) in the middle, hands again in his pockets. “You look nice, as usual.”

“Trying to butter me up?” (Y/N) smirked, teasing the Gryffindor slightly.

“Compliments never hurt,” he shrugged. “Thank you, for agreeing to this (Y/N).”

“I only did it because Professor Knight was listening to our whole conversation, it would’ve looked poor on my part if I didn’t”

“So that bloke’s name is Knight?”

“Lancelot Knight, if you can imagine.”

“His parents must’ve really had it out for him.”

“Must’ve.”

Silence.

“Well? We should get walking,” (Y/N) began to leave the courtyard, headed towards the open fields surrounding the castle.

Neville followed suit, allowing (Y/N) to stride at least five steps ahead. Her hair was pulled into her signature low ponytail, wrapped neatly with a bow. Neville could count on one had the amount of times he had seen her without her bow, her hair down. One of them being at the Battle of Hogwarts. It was in a pink ribbon, just like the one she was wearing now. Somehow it fell out in all of the commotion.

“Do you ever get tired of your bows?” Neville asked, almost absentmindedly.

“We’re not here to discuss my hair choices, Professor Longbottom,” said (Y/N), not turning around. “If we were, we’d start with your horrendous use of gel.”

“Horrendous?” Neville choked. “My Gran loves it when I gel my hair back!”

“Your Gran needs better spectacles,” (Y/N) slowed her pace, allowing Neville to get closer to her. “You used too much of it.”

“I’ll tone it down,” said Neville, fingers now trying to mess up his hair. “(Y/N), I’ve missed you,” she didn’t respond. “I know that you probably think that I’m the dumbest bloke to walk these grounds after the way we left off, but I just wanted you to hear that.”

“I wish I could say the same.”

“I know you’re lying, (Y/N).”

“You don’t know anything, Longbottom,” (Y/N) quipped, allowing herself to turn around just once. “You don’t know how badly I needed a friend that day, how badly I needed someone to care about me.”

“I see we’ve dropped the formalities,” said Neville, noting her lack of their shared title. “(Y/N), I didn’t know what you needed. You can be really good at avoiding conversations… or people.”

“You…” (Y/N) fought back the tears, trying hard to give herself the restraint she had years ago. “You never asked!"

“How was I supposed to know?” His voice rising.

“How were you supposed to know, what? That my dad escaped from Azkaban? That-that he joined the Dark Lord again? A man I had never met in my life?” She felt the hot tears stream down her cheeks. “You knew all of that!”

“I didn’t know he was there! The battle was a bit hectic, loads of people were dying, (Y/N).”

“Including him! My own father!” (Y/N) seethed, her eyes forcing themselves to meet with Neville’s. “My own father died and I never got to meet him, never got to say hello, let alone goodbye.”

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t know at the time, I was—”

“Preoccupied with Lovegood. I know.”

“That’s a bit uncalled for,” He quipped. (Y/N) sat with her knees tucked under her chin. Neville’s tone softened. “You’re hurting right now. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, then, I mean,” He sat down next to her. “But I’m here now.”

“That man,” (Y/N) continued, as if Neville wasn’t staring her down. “He was the reason I tried so hard to be good. To be everything he wasn’t. Kind, caring, loving,” she wiped a stray tear. “Why did it hurt so bad when he died?”

“I don’t know,” Neville admitted. That was a question only (Y/N) could answer. He felt like she knew that. “I found out when reading about the dead. Your dad’s name stuck out. I sent an owl—”

“I know.”

“What? I thought you said—”

“I lied,” (Y/N) chuckled airily. “I got them. All of them.”

“But why would you lie?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, hugging her knees harder. “I never opened them.”

“Why?”

“I dunno,” another shrug. “I was being dumb. I wanted so badly to cut you out of my life for good. To forget that I ever—” she stopped.

“I know I wasn’t the best of friend in that moment,” he rested a hand on her shoulder. “I’m damn well trying now. I know we can’t get back to where we were before, but I want to at the very least give it a go,” he sat down, gingerly, as to not disturb (Y/N). He pushed his arm to the other shoulder, resting his head atop hers.

“Thank you,” (Y/N) whispered, leaning into his touch, enjoying the embrace.

“Do you think you could start calling me Neville again? As a step in the right direction?” (Y/N) nodded wordlessly. “Good. I’ve missed it.”

“My father dying…” (Y/N) loosed her grip on her knees, opening up slightly. “Isn’t the only reason we fought.”

“No. I guess not,” Neville knew exactly what she was talking about. He couldn’t find the words to express that day, that argument in full. “ We can pretend it is for now. We should talk about it. Another day,” he smiled lightly.

“Another day,” she repeated. “Neville.”

General Tag List: @maralisa124 , @leighxlover , @hey-its-me-rai , @missihart23 , @biatheintrovert , @luna-xxxxx , @chocolaterumble, @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy , @steve-thotgers

want to be added to a tag list? hmu in the replies or ask box with what characters you’d like to be tagged with!

#neville longbottom #neville longbottom x reader #harry potter x reader #neville longbottom imagine #harry potter #plant boy #neville longbottom x you #it's not great but had to get this shit out of the way fam #oh boy do i have thoughts for these two #burning? slowly you betcha

116 notes · View notes