#the doctor is only just 1000 when they’re on their eighth body

[the-worms-in-your-bones]

Once again thinking about how the average life span of a renegade is so much shorter than that of a normal time lord

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (109/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

Previous chapters conveniently available here.

[21 February, 233 Before Age.   Interstellar Space.]

"Six Saiyans all at once?    You must be slowing down in your old age, little mammal.    I remember a time when you defeated fifty without breaking a sweat."

In the sickbay of Luffa's star-yacht, Dr. Topsas applied bandages made of his own webbing to Luffa's wounds.   On occasion, he would hold out a section of his silk with two hands and smear a medicated gel onto one side with a third hand.   Four other limbs supported the weight of his massive arachnoid body.    He used the eighth to hold one of Luffa's hands as he worked.    

"They were tougher than usual, that's all," Luffa said.    "And I knew you'd be along to patch me up, so I didn't bother blocking their hits."

"Yes, of course," Topsas said as he wrapped up Luffa's right shoulder.   "You meant to shred your forearm like this.  Forgive me.  It can be difficult for my untrained eyes to tell the difference.    What seems to be a careless mistake is actually a masterful forgery."

"Ow!" Luffa said.   While she had been watching him tend to her arm, one of his other limbs had stuck something into her thigh.  

"A regenerative serum," Topsas explained, "to help repair that tendon in your leg.  Most Saiyan patients might have caught me before I managed to inject them with it, but you acted as if you were completely unaware.   It pleases me to see how much you trust me, Luffa."

"Look, I know you two missed each other," said Zatte, who had taken a seat on one of the other examination tables in the sickbay.   "But could you cut the banter for a few minutes and tell me what's going on?"

"Some clown named Trismegistus is powering up Saiyans and sending them after me," Luffa said.   "If Dotz hadn't foreseen their attack on Planet Lubegev, they would have wrecked the place and waited for me to hear about it and walk into their trap."

The revelation startled Zatte enough to make her forget her earlier impatience.    "You mean they wanted to fight you?" Zatte asked.    "That's crazy."

"I think you just defined the Saiyan species, Ms. Zatte," Topsas remarked.  

"They weren't that crazy," Luffa said.   "Their combined power gave me some trouble.   Plus, they were very well-trained for fighting as a group.    Pretty sure some of them used to serve in the Royal military.   These guys would have been pretty talented, even before Trismegistus got ahold of them.   With his Jindan treatments, they were pretty impressive.   If they hadn't lost their nerve in the end, I might have been in some real danger."

"Define 'danger'," Zatte said.  

Luffa looked at her and smiled.   "They might have killed me."

"Yes, but let us remember that they did not kill you," Topsas said as he waved a diagnostic scanner across Luffa's back.   "You prevailed over difficult odds, as we have all grown accustomed to seeing.  Then you returned to the ship, where you will make a full recovery, much to the relief of your long-suffering wife."

"Thank you, doctor," Zatte said.  

"Hey, I told you I was okay when I came on board," Luffa said.  

Zatte pointed at Topsas.   "I just like to hear it from him, all right?" she said.   She looked at Dotz, who was lying in one of the beds, with an intravenous drip in her left arm.   "I'm sorry, I should be thanking you.  If Luffa hadn't known about this in advance, it could have turned out much worse."

"Oh, uh... well, I'm afraid I wasn't much help, ma'am," Dotz said.    "I only forecast one Saiyan, not six, and I had no idea they'd be so powerful.   If anything, I should be apologizing..."

"Oh, come on!" Luffa shouted.  "You guys are acting like I lost back there.   I had my back against the wall and I still kicked their asses!   It was amazing, at least until the end when one of them turned coward.    Isn't anyone happy for me?"

"In a word, no," Topsas said.  

"Hell no," Zatte said.

"I still feel guilty about it," Dotz added.

"Well, too bad," Luffa harrumphed, "because this won't be the end of it.   I may not have precognition powers like Dotz, but I've fought enough battles to know this Trismegistus isn't finished yet."

"What are you saying?" Zatte asked.

Luffa hobbled over to a chair and took a seat.   With most patients, Topsas might have questioned the point of getting up from an exam table to sit in a chair only a few paces away, but he had learned to pick his battles carefully where Luffa was concerned.    

"Those guys who jumped me on Lubegev had the same upgrade as Jolok, the Saiyan who put Dotz in a coma and tried to take me out on Quadzityz," she explained.   "When Jolok and I fought, he told me he was defying orders by running off to fight me, but he did it anyway because he thought he could catch me off guard and take all the glory for himself."

"...And?" Topsas asked.

Luffa rolled her eyes and groaned.   "Think about it!" she said.   "If there were only seven of these jacked-up Saiyans, why wait to deploy them?  Why draw it out, long enough for one of them to lose patience and run off to go into business for himself?  The reason is that there's a lot more than seven.  Trismegistus is trying to build an army of Saiyans with these powers.  These six were supposed to be the first wave.    A test, to see how well I'd do against them.  But it would take a while to move that many pieces into place.   Jolok couldn't wait that long, which is why he tried to start things early."  

"The first wave?" Zatte asked.   "Luffa, you make it sound like this is the start of a full-scale offensive!"

"Hah!    You always say the sweetest things," Luffa said.   "To be honest, I have no idea how many Saiyans are in league with Trismegistus.   Once those six fail to report in, he'll know they weren't enough to beat me.  So next time he'll send eight, or ten!  If I beat them, he'll send more, assuming he has more to send.   But I think he's thought that far ahead.    One thing's for sure.   There's plenty of Saiyans out there who'd love a chance to take me down, even if they have to gang up on me to pull it off."

"And how, little mammal, do you expect to defeat these enemies when you're still recuperating from the last battle?" Topsas asked.

"By doing the one thing those bastards would never expect," Luffa said as she rose out of her chair.    For a moment, she seemed to strike a heroic pose, like a wounded warrior preparing for an epic last stand.    Then, she shuffled over to the bed next to Dotz and lay down in it, pulling the covers over herself.

"I'm sorry, but what would that be?" Zatte asked.  

"Following my doctor's orders!" Luffa exclaimed.   "My body will get stronger with every battle I fight.   As long as I stay one step ahead of my injuries, I ought to be able to keep up with Trismegistus' attacks.   He thinks I'll run myself ragged trying to stop his goons, but I'll tackle them on my terms, not his.   And then, when he's finally out of options, he'll have to give me what I want."

"What's that?" Dotz asked.  

"King Rehval," Luffa said with a satisfied smirk.   "If that bastard's not already mixed up with Trismegistus, then it's only a matter of time before he will be.   They need each other.  Trismegistus has a way to increase a Saiyan's power, so if he really wants the most out of it, he'll have to use it on the strongest Saiyan he can find, and that's still Rehval."

"What if you're wrong?" Zatte asked.  

"Then I'll deal with it," Luffa said.   "For now, all I can do is fight these guys with everything I've got."

"But what if that isn't enough?!" Zatte shouted.  "What if they're too much for you?"

"Take it easy, would you?" Luffa said.   "We can always ask for a second opinion."

Dr. Topsas cleared his throat before speaking.   "I have little experience with such matters," he said, "but if you sincerely wish to hear my advice, then I would recommend--"

"Not you, Doc," Luffa said.  "Dotz here is a fortune teller.   She may have gotten the details wrong, but she knew when and where the Saiyan attack would happen.  I bet she could predict the next one if we give her a chance."

"I'm not worried about where the Saiyans will strike next," Zatte said.   "What I want to know is whether you'll still be alive when it's over!"

"Well that's easy enough," Luffa said.   "Dotz can read my fortune, can't you, Dotz?"

Dotz was taking a drink of water when Luffa said this, and nearly spit it out.   "I, uh... I'm not sure if I should get involved in this..." she said.    "I wouldn't want to cause any hard feelings between the two of you."

"Don't swear it, Dotz," Luffa said.  She reached across the space between their beds and offered her hand.    "Zatte and I have been through tougher situations than this.   And I'm a lot stronger now than I've ever been before."

"That isn't the point," Zatte said, putting her hands on her hips.   "Dammit, you always get this way when you smell a worthy adversary."

"It's great, isn't it?" Luffa replied as Dotz began examining her open palm.    "I feel like a kid again, hunting dinosaurs in the wild.   I'd probably have trouble keeping still, but Doc wants me to rest, so it's sound tactical advice."

"I should really get to the bridge," Zatte said.  

"What's wrong?" Luffa asked.   "You don't want to know my future?"

"Oh, I'm sure you live to be a hundred, and you conquer the whole galaxy or something," Zatte grumbled.  

"I'm sorry," Dotz said, "but I'm having some trouble."

"What is it?" Topsas asked.    With a speed that belied his bulk, he moved to Dotz's bedside and checked the readings on medical sensors.  

"No, I'm fine, doctor," she said.    "What I meant was that I can't seem to read Luffa's palm."

"What is it?" Luffa asked.   "Bad news?"

"No, it's..." Dotz swallowed hard as she tried to find the right words.    "Well, it just... stops.    Unless I'm doing something very wrong, Luffa, you have no future."

"How very  melodramatic," Topsas said.    

"Cool," Luffa said with an impressed smile.  

"Wh-what?!" Zatte asked.  

Dotz looked at Luffa's hand very carefully as she ran her fingers across her palm.    "I've never seen anything like this before," she said apologetically.  "I've been telling fortunes for thirty years, and I've never..."

"Hey, don't worry about it," Luffa said.    "You're not fully recovered from your run-in with Jolok, so maybe that's got something to do with it.   Besides, my species makes its own destiny.   It'd be kind of boring to know how the movie ends, right, Zatte?"

But Zatte didn't answer.    When Luffa looked up, she saw her running out of the sickbay, sobbing.

*******

[21 February, 233 Before Age.  Interstellar Space.]

Cardune's entire life had been leading up to this moment.    He had been so blind in his youth, wasting his talents on pointless battles, siezing just enough plunder to break even.    Marriage, family, success, they had all been hollow pursuits, but he did not regret those years, for even these had been part of the plan that had been laid out for his life.  

He loved Trismegistus, more dearly than he had loved anything before.  The Thrice-Blessed One had transformed Cardune, perfecting him into his true self.    In his former ignorance, Cardune had come to him seeking strength of the body, but Trismegistus had given him so much more than that.     It made so much sense now.     What good was physical might without harmony of the spirit?   Only by balancing the mercurial and sulfurous essences in his soul could Cardune achieve his true potential.    This was Jindan, the power that turned an ordinary Saiyan into the Universal Reagent.    Through Cardune and others like him, Trismegistus would transform the entire universe.    

There were difficulties, to be sure.    No path worth following would be easy, least of all the Sacred Way.   Cardune had sacrificed much in exchange for his newfound power.   Trismegistus had taught him that this was the way of alchemy.    It was best to forget what he had given up, so as to fully embrace what he had received.    This was easier said than done.    Often, Cardune caught himself thinking about his partner, and their daughter and son.    Mostly, he wondered what had become of them after he was admitted into the cult.    Once, he thought he had seen his daughter serving as an attendant to one of the high priests.    It was hard not to be relieved, even proud, but this wouldn't do.    Cardune had given up his family, so it was no longer his place to worry for their safety, or to take comfort in their prosperity.    

This was why his joints ached from time to time.   His emotional indiscretions interfered with his spiritual balance, which diminished the effectiveness of the Jindan formula in his body.    Meditation helped.     While it never seemed to improve his condition, it at least distracted himself from the pain, and kept him from dwelling on things he couldn't control.    Like the clock on the wall of his quarters.  

Trismegistus was an alchemist, possessed of the secrets of creation itself.    For the Thrice-Blessed, remaking the universe was no different from a child mixing vinegar and baking soda.    He never called himself a god, though somehow this seemed to make him seem even more noble, as if he were laying silent claim to something even higher than divinity.    The Saiyans who belonged to his flock would become his Holy Reagent, the means by which he would effect his great work, but the kinetics of this act were a complete mystery.    Mere acolytes like Cardune could not hope to understand.   He was a glob of clay wondering when the potter would begin.  

Cardune could only act on what he knew, which were the orders he was issued.    He was given command of a starship, and he and his crew traveled to a particular location and held their position until the time was right.    Their supplies were limited, as Cardune was expected to lead his crew in ritual fasting at certain intervals.    Cardune found the hunger useful for diverting his attention from his own problems, but the other officers relied on their assigned consorts to distract themselves from their empty stomachs.  

Sex was held in high regard within the Jindan cult.    Trismegistus taught his followers that it was a means of balancing bodily humors.  Through repeated physical intimacy, they could rid themselves of those essences they did not need, and replenish essences which they lacked.    Ever a prudish species, the Saiyans found this polyamorous philosophy deeply disturbing, but this was part of the price for the Jindan power they all shared.    Trismegistus had arranged a complex system to determine who was to sleep with whom.    Higher ranking members were given greater freedom of choice in this, while the lower members had none.    As the commander of his ship, Cardune could have anyone else on board whenever he wished, but he preferred to decline this privilege.     Whenever he took a consort for the night, it only reminded him of the husband he gave up to join the cult, and so the entire exercise was self-defeating.    He only partook as often as he did in order to set a good example for his crew.    

Mostly, he spent his off-duty hours waiting in his quarters, letting his hunger and restlessness argue with his faith.    His orders were to hold his position in deep space, maintaining radio silence and a cloaking field to avoid any possible detection.    For three weeks, he and his crew had been cut off from the rest of the universe, waiting for a sign to move out.   If it pleased Trismegistus, they would die here, waiting for his sign, and the ship would serve as their cosmic tomb.   At times, Cardune wondered if their master had forgotten them.    He forced himself to repeat the mantras he used during meditation, in an effort to refocus his devotion.

And then, at last, the sign came.    Cardune hadn't known what to expect.   There was no subspace radio transmission, no voice speaking to him in his mind.    Just a feeling in the pit of his stomach, and a sudden urge to find his spear.    All of Trismegistus' followers were issued spears.   Along with the Jindan power and the Mindworm, which guarded them from telepathic assault, the spears were said to be the third of three blessings Trismegistus bestowed upon his flock.   Cardune was never told what the spear was for, just that it was important.    Now, as he found it leaned against the wall of his quarters, he began to appreciate its importance.    

The head of the spear was shaped like the barbed point of a harpoon, and now it glowed a dull red color, though Cardune could feel no heat when he touched it.    Instead, he felt an almost instinctive understanding that this was the moment he and his crew had been waiting for.   Trismegistus had cast them into the darkness, and now he was summoning them back.   And suddenly, the mental anguish Cardune had endured these past three weeks seemed to melt away.   Gazing at the spear, he felt there was nothing he could not do, and he knew that his entire crew now shared the same feeling.    

With a newfound sense of purpose, he stepped out of his quarters and headed for his post to order his ship into action.    

*******

[21 February, 233 Before Age.    Interstellar Space.]

On the bridge of Luffa's star-yacht, Zatte had finished crying, and somewhat awkwardly tried to get on with the work of checking the ship's systems.      She could sense Luffa approaching the entrance to the bridge.    For those who could sense ki, it was hard not to notice Luffa's presence on board.    While she had the chance, Zatte turned away from the door and wiped her eyes one last time, in an effort to look a little less pathetic.  

"Hey," Luffa said as she stepped through the doorway.   "I would have been here sooner, but Doc thought I should give you some space."

"It's okay," Zatte said.   "I'm fine, really."

"I'm sorry," Luffa said.   "Whatever it is I've done, I'm sorry."

"No, you're not," Zatte said, finally turning to face her.   "You can't be sorry for what you are.   I'm sorry.   I lost it back there.    I let you down."

"What are you talking about?" Luffa asked.  

Zatte turned and took her hands into her own.    "You want to fight," she said.   "It reminds me of the day the colony fell.    You were covered in Tikosi blood, and we both expected to die there.   You always told me how much you enjoyed that battle, and how impressed you were with me."

"I guess it is a lot like that," Luffa said.  "I probably got a little too excited about this Trismegistus thing."

"I know you love this sort of thing," Zatte said.    "But it scares me.    It always has.  Fighting is one thing, but against the kind of odds we faced on Dorlu Prime?   I know that's a dream come true for you.  Most days I can handle that.    Today, I slipped.   She said you had 'no future’ and I just couldn't..."

She pulled Luffa close and wrapped her arms around her tightly.   "I want you to have a future!" she said.    "I want to be there with you, and fight for your cause, and I'll burn for you if I have to, but I want to grow old with you too!   I want one of us to die in the arms of the other, and if it's me, then I want you to leave my corpse behind wherever it happens to fall."

"Hey, I already promised you that at our wedding," Luffa said.  "Dorlun funeral, all the way.  I won't let your death get in the way of the living."  

"And if you die first, then... then..."

"Of course," Luffa said, returning her embrace.   "If we make it that long, that's what we'll do.    But there's no guarantees.  We won't make it there unless we fight for it.    Every step of the way."

"You're right," Zatte said.   "It's just... it's hard sometimes."

"It's okay," Luffa said.   "It really is.   You're allowed to be weak sometimes.    Weakness is part of getting stronger.   Look at me.   I took a real beating on Lubegev, and now I've got to stay in bed and heal up."

"Can you really beat them?" Zatte asked.    

"I think so," Luffa said.  "But I won't know until I try.    That's why I have no future, Zattie.    The only future a Saiyan can have is the one she takes.   It's whatever I make for myself."

They held each other for a time, and then an alert sounded from one of the bridge consoles.    Luffa pulled away from Zatte to check it out.   "It's a recorded message from the Federation Council," she said as she read the display.   "What the hell do they want?"

She tapped the console to begin playing the message, and the main viewscreen displayed the image of a bald man with brown skin and a red military dress uniform.  He smiled somewhat insincerely as he spoke into whatever recording device he was using.    "Madam Federatrix," he said.  

"Ryba Booth," Luffa said aloud, though she knew he couldn't hear her.  There was a somewhat one-sided rivalry between them.    Booth commanded a military dictatorship before Luffa forced him to co-found the Federation along with three of his adversaries.   He longed for greater power over the Federation, to extend his personal rule to other worlds beyond his home planet of Despye, but Luffa's influence over the Federation made this impossible.   She was too popular to outpolitick, and too powerful to overthrow.   His only chance was to wait for her to fail on the battlefield, and then he could use his command over the Federation starfleet to usurp her position. �� The smile on his face suggested that he felt closer to that outcome than he had been in some time.

"If you are receiving this message, it is because I am unable to reach you directly.   The Federation is under attack by an enemy fleet.   I have deployed our own fleet to intercept the invaders, but intelligence indicates that many of them are Saiyans.  Should any of them manage to land on an inhabited world, my ships may be incapable of dislodging them."  

Luffa and Zatte exchanged concerned looks.   "If these are anything like the Saiyans you fought on Lubegev--" Zatte began.

"I know," Luffa said.    "Booth may have no idea what he's dealing with..."

"I'm including tactical charts with information on the planets most likely to be invaded.   I believe the Saiyans will attempt to concentrate their forces on Gudgid III, so I've--"  there was a disruption in the message, as the audio briefly devolved into static-- "hold the line for now.  The Ninth Wing may be vulnerable, but--"  Static again.   "--ommend you join the battle at coordinates J58 by 126."

There was an interruption in the playback of the message.   The image of Booth became distorted, and though he appeared to be speaking, the audio was gone.   Luffa looked over to the navigator station, but Zatte had already there, plotting a course.    "It'll take us four hours to get there," she said.

"Then we'd better hope Booth can last until then," Luffa said.  

"Luffa, you're hurt," Zatte said.

"I know," she said.   "I'll have to get creative when we get there.   Let's take a look at his charts..."

"Luffa, you said you would rest," Zatte reminded her.

"I just want to take a look," Luffa said, "and then I'll go back to-- This... this can't be right!"

"What's wrong?" Zatte asked.  

Luffa tapped a few keys on the console and put the charts on the main veiwer.   "Look at this," she said.  "Booth's showing Saiyan activity in at least two dozen star systems."

"Two dozen?   But what about Gudgid III?" Zatte asked.  

"I mean, they could converge on Gudgid," Luffa said.   "Normally, that would make sense.   Harass the border, keep the defenders spread out while they try to chase you down, and then concentrate your forces on a planet worth sacking.  Booth's analysis is sound, or it would be if these were garden variety Saiyans.    But if we're talking about Saiyans as strong as the ones I just fought... If these are more of those Saiyans jumped up with this magic power, and if they're all working for Trismegistus, then they could do more than just sack one planet and run for it.  They could hold an entire sector or two if they play their cards right.   It might take weeks to clear them all out!"

As Zatte looked at her wife's face, she saw her expression grow increasingly concerned.   There could be no doubt now.  In four hours, Luffa would fight again.  And again. Perhaps she would prevail, but at what cost?  This was the question Zatte wanted to ask, but she didn't want to break down into tears again, and so she asked another question instead.

"Even if we do clear them out, what'll be left of the Federation when it's over?"    

NEXT: Fight Fire With Fire.

[disinfandous]

Light Reading

Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler

1,939 words - fluff, trashy romance novels, the eighth doctor ;), “disturbing the peace”, crack?

[[I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE ORIGINAL POST BC IM A HUUUUUGE KLUTZ SO I’M REPOSTING IT I’M SO SORRY]]

Rose Tyler (much to her surprise, delight, and horror) finds a rather… interesting… romance novel starring none other than the Doctor himself! Try as she might to read it in peace, the Doctor just has to know what’s going on. Why is she laughing so hard?

AO3 

Ever since she began travelling with the Doctor, Rose generally avoided romance novels.

The reason why was simple, really. Every time Rose read a romance novel she just kept thinking of him, of that maddening alien she now lived with. Her mind would wander, unbidden, to dangerous territory, lingering on the eternity in his eyes, the perfect fit of his hand in hers, the warmth spreading in her chest at the sight of his smile…

She couldn’t read a single limerent word from even the trashiest of bodice-rippers without her mind wandering. Romances were, for lack of a better word, hazardous. They did a impressive number on her sanity and she swore to stay away from them for the sake of her health.

Generally, she kept that promise well. She avoided suspicious sections of not only the TARDIS library, but of other libraries or bookstores they happened to visit on their adventures as well. She did her part and stayed away, but Rose didn’t take into account the books not staying away from her, and she certainly didn’t take into account the books actually being about the Doctor.

Suddenly, it wasn’t so much an issue of her mind wandering but rather of whether or not her imagination would be up to par.

Looking back at it, she would certainly claim that it wasn’t her fault. Not really. What were the odds of her finding something like that in this particular library in this particular town on this particular planet? Or anywhere in the universe at all, rather? Slim, she bet. Probably as slim as he was in that suit of his, that’s how unlikely.

Yet there it was. Just sitting there, wedged in between two other seemingly innocuous volumes. It was misshelved, clearly, by the way it was surrounded by cookbooks. She just wanted a glimpse at freaky alien food, not freaky alien Doctor fantasies.

Still, Rose quickly grabbed the book and ducked around the shelves to take a peek anyway. Ever the paradigm of restraint, she decided regret was for the future. She would burn that bridge when she got to it.

A customary glance at the cover nearly left her a giggling mess. It was so cheesy, almost exactly like those cheap paperbacks sitting around in convenience stores. The man emblazoned on the cover passionately embracing a swooning purple-skinned damsel was clearly meant to be the Doctor, even though he looked considerably different. He was painted with a velvet coat and luscious brown curls, dressed perfectly for a position in some sort of Jane Austen novel or something. In the background, partially concealed by gratuitous amounts of blossoming flowers, stood the TARDIS in all of its blue boxy glory.

The title was printed in curvilinear alien script and appropriately translated to the closest English equivalent of its meaning. It read, much to Rose’s amusement: Doctor Sexy. It sounded like some sort of quirky medical drama.

The tagline was just as bad: Fate, passion, desire… He can save the planet, but can he love?

What a loaded question.

Rose remembered the Doctor telling her as soon as they arrived that he recalled visiting this planet multiple times in the past and saving them from a new threat every time. He mentioned, offhandedly, how he figured that the locals must technically consider him some sort of hero or legend by now based upon how well he had been received before. There was no way he could have expected this.

Oh, they thought him a hero alright. Definitely.

She hadn’t even opened the thing yet and it was already too much for her. Her hands were shaking with barely concealed laughter as she flipped between random pages in the book, not really looking to actively immerse herself in it yet desperate for a juicy paragraph or two.

And God. She was not disappointed:

“Oh, Doctor,” sighed Anahi, melting into his embrace, “You came for me!”

“I could never leave you, my poignant weeping blossom,” he professed. “You have captured not only both of my wandering hearts, but my body and my soul as well. My love, I am yours.”

The Doctor placed kisses along the fleshy ridges of her neck, making Anahi squirm like a nurseling in pleasure. His strong, velvet-clad arms held her flush against him yet she still craved more. Anahi tugged at the curls concealing the undoubtedly gorgeous expanse of his bare scalp and groaned in need, the vibrations reverberating onto his lips from their position upon her throat.

“I thought you would never return,” she gasped. “I thought… After the uprising… No, after Drewan…”

“Drewan matters not. He is unworthy of you,” he growled. “He shall never have you. No one shall ever take you from me.”

“Oh, Doctor!”

“My love!”

Rose couldn’t hold it in anymore. She burst out laughing right then and there, burying her face in the pages of the book, guffaws violently jarring the serenity of the library. Blimey, this was too much. She wasn’t built for this kind of relentless assault.

She had to keep reading.

“Rose?” called a familiar voice.

Or not.

Rose quickly shut the book, shoving it behind her as she twisted around. She backed up against the shelf behind her and plastered on an innocent smile. She hoped, no, prayed, that her cheeks weren’t as flushed as she felt them to be.

The Doctor’s inquiring expression greeted her. “You were pretty loud,” he began, stepping toward her. “What’s so funny?”

“Uhh�� Well,” she struggled for an explanation, “S’nothing, really. Jus’… Just this really silly—” she glanced around her, recalling precisely what section of the library she was in—“cookbook I found.”

His face contorted into further confusion.

“Yeah. Uh, more of a joke, really. 1000 recipes not to feed your… your nurseling.” Rose cringed. “Funnier than it sounds.”

“Can I see?” he asked, his confusion melting into that of skeptical acceptance and mild interest. He moved to peer behind her, but she deftly turned and pressed herself even further against the bookshelf so as to block his view. She could feel the wood digging into her arms.

“Nope. It’s not anything you’d like to see. Really. Trust me,” she said, biting her lip to suppress a chuckle at the memory of what she just read.

“Rose, if it made you laugh so unabashedly in a place like this, it’s definitely something I’d like to see.”

“No. Honest. I swear—”

It was at that moment a book fell from its perch behind her. Rose jumped in surprise and quickly bent to retrieve it, startled by the loud thump it created upon meeting the floor. It was one of the books opened for display and she must have dislodged it as she backed up.

The Doctor wasn’t one to waste an opportunity, however, and he snatched the novel from her unassuming hands the moment she shifted from her position of defense. She let out a yelp of protest and dashed to pry it away from him before he could properly witness the cover.

Too late.

She watched in mounting horror as his eyes drifted over the illustration and read the title.

“D… Doctor… Sexy…? ” he whispered, eyes wide. Rose groaned. Here we go. “This is what you were reading?”

She nodded.

“B-but—this doesn’t make sense—why would something like this… Why… What?”

Rose coughed, “Apparently, Doctor, some people think you’re um, well—” she gestured in the book’s general direction—“sexy.”

“That’s…”

“You’ve got a history here, yeah? Hero and whatnot. That’s pretty hot.”

He furrowed his brows and leafed through the pages of the novel, his face reddening as he advanced through it. His increasing embarrassment lessened the strength of her own embarrassment and by the time he looked up Rose felt the beginning of a smile gracing her lips. God, this was so surreal.

“This isn’t even anything like me!” The Doctor cried, incredulous. “I would never—I certainly wouldn’t—I would never do any of this stuff!”

She snickered, “Oh, I don’t know. Seems pretty in character to me.”

“Rose,” he whined. She grinned at him shamelessly. “You know this isn’t accurate. It’s ridiculous! Fantasy fodder. Entirely fictitious!”

“Fiction stems from reality, Doctor.”

“No, no, no, no, no. Not in this case it doesn’t.”

Rose tilted her head inquiringly, “So you honestly think you’d never say a single word of this? All those passionate declarations of love and devotion and stuff?”

“They’re the single most cliché, contrived declarations I have ever had the misfortune of discovering—”

“Oi, that’s a bit harsh, innit?”

“Harsh?”

“They’re not all that bad.”

“Rose, you can’t be defending this? That’s supposed to be me on those pages. This is slander; I am personally victimized.”

“I’m not on about that, Doctor. I agree with you there. Can’t take that book seriously, honestly,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m jus’ saying that those words are the kinda thing people love to hear. Passionate and adoring. Yeah, it’s kinda cheesy, but that’s what stuff like this is for. It’s all self-indulgent. Love for the hopeless romantic.”

He regarded her wearily, but the indignance in his gaze seemed to wane.

“When was the last time you visited? Must’ve been a long while ago judging by your appearance. You said it yourself: you’re like a legend to them. Something distant yet wonderful. Something they can pile their desires onto without much trouble. It makes them happy.”

“How do you know so much about this?”

“S’common sense,” Rose shrugged, tongue peeking out through her teasing smile.

“Don’t think so,” he said, “because then I’d be an expert on this.” The Doctor glanced back down at the book in his hands and eyed it with distaste. “Something I most certainly am not.”

Rose sighed, “Oh, tell me about it.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

It was then that a librarian glided up to them, a stern expression on her face. Turns out they have been rather disruptive for the past few minutes, dropping books and speaking absurdly loudly, and she figured it was time to insist upon their dismissal for the sake of her peace-loving patrons. They could come back, she told them, once they decided to abide by library policy.

In other words, they were kicked out.

The walk to the TARDIS had them improperly amused in the end, the Doctor’s previous dissatisfaction forgotten in the wake of other more important matters like going home. Lamenting on the fact that they never seemed to be able to go anywhere without being given the boot, they walked hand-in-hand, smiling like the trouble-makers they were.

“Tell me what you will, but I honestly don’t think you could ever catch me saying anything out of that book,” the Doctor told her upon reaching the TARDIS doors. He no longer bore his earlier offended tone, but he clearly must have felt the need to clarify.

“Really?” Rose asked. “Never call anyone your poignant weeping blossom?”

The Doctor made a face. “Never.”

She just laughed, following him up the ramp inside. Rose didn’t doubt him; he probably really would never say anything so honestly and aggressively romantic. It was an aspect exclusively reserved for the man he never could be, trapped in between the pages of that silly book, only found stemming from the minds of people who honestly weren’t all that different from Rose herself.

She might not have been so tawdry in her own musings, but she couldn’t deny how some things appealed to her immensely. She recalled a sentence from the book that stood out to her almost painfully.

My love, I am yours.

Yeah. It would be nice to hear, wouldn’t it?