tagCelebrities & Fan FictionDoctor Who: Panic Moon- A New Story

Doctor Who: Panic Moon- A New Story


He didn't feel the need to lift his head, even as the doors to the TARDIS opened, and then closed again. He just kept working; after all, in this place, at this time, there were only three people who could have gotten inside, and since two of them had opted to spend the day getting married, there was only one person it could be.

'Hello, River...' He said, a tad flatly as he edged his way around the control column, tapping away randomly at the controls. He still didn't know what some of them did, but he found that the TARDIS had a way of creatively interpreting what he did into something that was at least interesting. Lovely old girl...

'Wrong,' A decidedly Scottish voice sighed. This caused the Doctor to look up, and blink in surprise. Amy leaned herself against a nearby railing, really looking quite lovely in her wedding dress.

'Pond?' The Time Lord cocked an eyebrow. 'I'm hardly an expert at these wedding things, only had a couple myself, but I thought it was customary for at least the bride and groom to remain -- them until they were finished, yes?'

'It's still going on, and it's still close by,' She shrugged. 'You didn't park this thing too well. Anyway, I'm not running away or anything, I just... need a place to hide for a bit, if that makes sense?'

It didn't, but nothing would stop the Doctor from talking, 'Well, you picked the right spot. This place has been my place to hide for... ooh, ages. No better place to ignore your troubles than right here.'

'Yes, I know,' Amy drew in closer, having to hike her dress up a little to climb the stairs to the control room. She looked down at herself, all near-luminous white and lace, and felt herself begin to frown; wedding dresses might look nice, but they weren't exactly geared for the functional stuff, like moving around. -- this one could do with some pockets...

'I just...' She stopped, sighed and tried to reorganize her thoughts. What -- she just? What was it she was feeling? It was an odd sensation, and one she wasn't entirely at home with; looking around, she felt as though this might be the last time she was ever in this place, seeing this man. She sighed again.

'I'm feeling a little too earthbound, you know?'

'I -- know,' The Doctor said, giving her a significant look from over the top of the array of flashing lights. 'Why do you think I have a time machine?'

'I noticed,' Amy nodded. There was a moment of silence, slow and awkward for her, merely quiet for him. He looked up at her again, seemingly surprised she was still here.

'Come on now, Pond,' He smiled, the same vaguely chastising smile she had seen him use a hundred times before. It struck her that she might not see that smile again, and her heart skipped a beat. Leadworth was too small...

'I get that you're nervous,' He continued, winking. 'Hell, I was too the first time. But, it's too special a day to spend it cooped up in a blue box with an old man. Go. Have fun. Dance, laugh, cake, whatever you want. Be wedded, Pond! I swear, I won't be in here too much longer, you'll see me around.'

But that wasn't exactly true, was it? It was entirely possible that, after today, he would be gone from her life forever. She'd seen the TARDIS' visual records, she knew there had been others in this control room with him before, and that there would likely be others after her, but did it have to be so soon? She hadn't spoken to Rory- her -- by god!- about the possibility of continuing her travels in the TARDIS, how could she? The Doctor had only started -- again a half hour ago, and now she could remember two timelines; one where he'd never come for her, where he'd been nothing but a dream and she had never seen the stars, and one where he had... although granted the latter tended to skip a few beats where the Pandorica was concerned.

After all that, after two universes and remembering him back into existence, could he just fly away and leave her to Leadworth and her new marriage?

Even at the prospect, she felt something almost akin to claustrophobia, on a universal scale. Before her eyes, her personal world was shrinking back down to just Leadworth and that silly little house that now had just the right number of rooms. And she couldn't even feel -- about that, because she wasn't -- to! Who was she to feel like she was losing -- She'd been given an opportunity to see things no human being would see again for thousands of years, -- she'd now get to go back to her home, and her husband, completely unscathed. Not all of the Doctor's friends had been as lucky as she, yet she still felt awful at the prospect of leaving it all behind.

... -- it did her any lasting damage, too.

A familiar little impulse fluttered through her, something the rational part of her mind tagged immediately as entirely too selfish to become a complete thought. Still, it stuck with her; fourteen years of waiting, countless brushes with death, one near-derailed wedding... And he would be gone by morning.

No repercussions...

'It's all a bit permanent, don't you think?' Slowly, Amy rounded the control panel, getting closer to her target with each shuffling step. She thanked god she hadn't opted for heels with this white cloth casket she was wearing, 'The rest of my life... One guy.'

'Barring a divorce,' The Doctor said, apparently before he had thought it through, even a tiny bit. He looked up, a kind of muted horror on his face. He winced, 'Um, wow... Didn't mean --

'Well, neither did I,' Amy arched an eyebrow, maintaining eye contact with the Time Lord as she closed the last few feet between them. She found herself smiling; this close, it was hard to forget the innumerable times she had seen this man divested of his dignity. That kind of thing stuck with a person, especially in the moments before, well...

She laughed, a tad nervously, 'No, I'm really more worried about the fact that I'll only get to sleep with Rory from now on. I never got to sow my wild oats or nothin'!'

The Doctor exhaled suddenly, back straightening as he stepped stiffly away from the console. He adopted a low, warning tone, 'Amy, not this again...'

'Doctor, you have no idea...' She stopped, shook her head. No point going -- 'It's been fourteen years,' She tried smiling again. 'I think I've waited long enough.'

'Amy, stop it!' The Time Lord snapped, agitation colouring his voice. 'Leaving aside that you are literally in your wedding dress right now, I'm nine hundred years old, I'm from another planet... Let's just leave it at that. It's not going to happen.'

'Yes, I'm aware I'm in my wedding dress,' Amy smiled wryly, laying a hand on the Time Lord's shoulder. 'I think I look pretty good in it. Don't you?'

'Stop it,' The Doctor shook his head, shrugging off Amy's touch and slipping away to the other side of the console. Amy Pond, Amy Pond... Strange, impossible Amy Pond, with the fairytale name and dreams of her Raggedy Doctor. This was all too much. Fourteen -- of waiting just for him, an interest bordering on obsession... And if he was being honest, -- honest with himself, it went both ways. How could it not? A woman who had lived with a crack in time burning through her mind every night for more than a -- Unheard of, and in his lifetime, the Doctor had made it a point to hear a --

Mad, impossible Amelia Pond... The only one of his friends to stay, to stick around even when she shouldn't have. A puzzle he hadn't solved yet.

But he couldn't. He couldn't even joke about it with her, for altogether too many reasons. But as she pursued him around the side of the console, he knew he wasn't going to get off- -- as easy as last time. He couldn't exactly go out and tell Rory this time. No way.

'Amelia Pond, stop this right now!' He tried his best to sound authoritative, which was harder than it looked, with an attractive redhead attempting to drape her arms around his neck.

'Oh, come now,' She smiled slyly. 'One little moment of fun before you go. Just one.'

Was that it? She thought he was going to leave? Well... he just might, in fact he had been considering it when she had walked in. Being with him had gotten Rory killed, it had gotten -- killed, and resurrected, and very nearly erased from existence completely along with the rest of the universe... He was bad news. The last of the Time Lords attracted trouble, and more danger than he would ever want to put his best friend in.

But why did she still idolize him so? Hadn't she travelled in the TARDIS long enough to know better? Well, it was his fault for being so damn charming...

Maybe that was it. Nine hundred years had given the Doctor some awfully varied experiences, some of which humanity wouldn't discover for another few centuries at least. And many of -- the ones he had liked the -- had been the things he'd kept locked up inside him for a couple of regenerations now, the dark side he'd apportion out to those that threatened the peace and safety of other races. The rage of the Time Lords.

Amy Pond had only really seen the bumbling, garrulous and above all -- Doctor, because that was the side he liked showing her. The side that would make her smile, and laugh, and go on adventures with him. The side that turned the Girl Who Waited into the Doctor's Companion. The side that maybe she deserved to see, after fourteen years of looking out at the night's sky and seeing only his absence.

But would she react the same way to the parts of him he -- shown her? If Amy Pond -- knew what sex meant to him, would she stick around? He doubted it, and if he had to scare her off to get her to stop this foolishness before it ruined her marriage... so be it.

He wouldn't be there in the morning, anyway.

Perhaps it was time to expose the Girl Who Waited to the Oncoming Storm... At least in part.

She touched his shoulder again, but this time he reached up, unnaturally fast. Gripped her wrist hard enough to hurt. Spun her around. Scowled.

'Fine,' He growled, stepping forward into her personal space, pushing her back with every step, until she was pinned against the side of the console. Her eyes widened as he bore down on her, 'One moment of fun? Do you -- want to know what's -- to me, Amy Pond?'

The fingers of his free hand twisted up in the fabric of her wedding dress, pulling it away from her chest as she gasped. Shock filled her expression as the rounded curves of her breasts were revealed to his sight, then completely exposed, as the dress gave way with a harsh tearing sound.

The control room was still and silent as both Amy and the Doctor took a moment to process what he had just done. It didn't even occur to Amy to cover her newfound nudity for several seconds, and when she finally did, it was with a trembling arm across her chest. The Doctor still held her other wrist pinned to the console, as his eyes drilled into hers, burning with an intensity she'd never seen before.

Oddly, the dress itself was a tertiary concern; yes, he had -- her wedding dress, -- her wedding day, but that seemed to pale in comparison to the fact that lovely old Doctor had just held her down and torn off her clothes. And now she was pressed against the console, practically on her back, covering herself with the one arm she had available to her, panting out each heavy breath as she stared, wide eyed, back at him. She had a hard time figuring out whether or not to struggle.

'Take that hand away. Put it by your side,' The Doctor commanded. His voice seemed somehow heavier now, as though it had a physical pressure attached to it. Amy wondered if it was a Time Lord thing. She still knew so little about the species; how strong were they, typically? Did she have any chance of getting away?

His voice was almost hypnotic in its forcefulness. Her arm slipped down by her side. Did she even -- to get away?

He didn't even look at her naked chest. His eyes remained glued to hers, only now he was viewing her at a much higher resolution than he usually would. He examined her; the dilation of her pupils, the heaviness of her breathing, the way it made her chest rise and fall... He could see it all. Even her heart, thudding in her chest, was plain to him.

But Time Lords saw what others did not, and mere physicality was not the end of Amy Pond. Her biodata was laid bare to him, the twisting, serpentine length of her personal timeline splayed out to his sight. It rippled, as unstable as a tower in an earthquake, folding back over itself again and again in the most complex, beautiful ways. A snake devouring its own tail, except here it kept going, winding across history, sometimes splitting off into two parallel paths, before merging back together down the line in a brilliant explosion of time energy. Impossibility after impossibility.

Amy Pond: Time traveller, living paradox, complex spacetime event. So full of life, even though she was impossible.

He felt both his hearts speed up. Chemicals and hormones that her species wouldn't even have names for for centuries flooded his body.

'Well, Pond?' He growled, chancing his first glance down at her breasts, which affected him in an altogether more physical manner. 'We could have a little fun, if you insist. What do you say?'

In the silence that followed he settled back a little, releasing his grip on her hand. Now, she was essentially free; he expected her to run. To push past him , perhaps flee the TARDIS like that, perhaps stay long enough for him to at least repair her dress. And then he'd go. It was better for her, and her husband. Better if he left now. Better to scare her off, because what she wanted from him could never happen. He wouldn't allow it.

What he didn't expect, was for her to nod.

'Do it,' She said, swallowing hard. 'Show me.'

The Doctor blinked, but one of the great things about being a Time Lord was an innate ability to process surprise very quickly. His mind spun, absorbing this new information, fingers twitching as blood flowed hotly through him to the four-time beat of his hearts. Potential actions, fetishes, burned through him as vivid as actual memories, and his eyes narrowed. His free hand replaced itself around her wrist as the other one crept up her dress, hiking the fabric ever higher and exposing more and more of Amy's long, pale legs. He could feel her shrinking back against the console.

It was --

Again the sound of tearing filled the booming silence that had surrounded them, as his Gallifreyan strength effortlessly ripped Amy's wedding dress up the middle, leaving her practically naked, the dress only held together by a scant few inches of fabric at the centre. The tattered remains fell about her legs, leaving her bottom half clad only in a silk thong- a gift for Rory, perhaps?- and her garter. All at once, the Doctor had a vivid dream of running his tongue up the inside of those thighs, and catching that garter with his teeth.

Time for that later, though...

His fingers gripped tighter around her wrist and, as she watched, wide-eyed, he slowly guided her palm off of the console, and down between her legs. He helped her fingers to slide under the hem of her panties, before growling to her, 'No. You need to show -- first.'

He took a step back, expectantly. He was familiar enough with what he had seen in her eyes, that dark little flicker, tiny autonomous processes in her hindbrain flicking an ages old switch, to know she wouldn't run now. And she didn't, even as her cheeks flushed and she cast her eyes down and away from him. Even as trembling fingers slid further downward.

He had left that part of her covered as some small concession, to both of them, if he'd had to examine the thought properly. This was entirely new ground, and though the sense of discovery was a truly exciting thing, it was also delicate and needed to be preserved. Strung along. In the end, it made its eventual completion so much better.

Amy actually gave a little smile as her fingers curled inwards toward their goal, but it was a weak, awkward thing. Her face had gone a rather deep shade of red, and now that this was a thing that was actually happening, the Doctor hardly felt bad at all for wondering whether she went the same colour when she was being fucked. He actually felt -- in the knowledge that he wouldn't have to wonder for long.

Time Lords live for a very long time, it was pretty much in the job description, and the Doctor had lived plenty long enough to understand that relationships could be amorphous little things at the best of times; he could count the number of friends that had become his lovers on... well, less fingers than he cared to admit, but it -- happen. It was happening now, assuming he didn't say anything stupid to screw it up.

But Amy didn't have the advantage of longevity, which, together with living in tiny, near-abandoned Leadworth for most of her life, added up to very few other young people for her to be around. In fact, it wouldn't have surprised him at all if he was the first -- to make the leap, for her. If he tried hard, he could remember the first time he had been in such a position, all the way back on Gallifrey. It had been more difficult than he cared to think about, exposing himself in front of a close friend for the first time. Amy needed to be treated delicately at this stage of things.

And so, with great tact and care, the Doctor reached forward, and tore her underwear from her body, grinning dangerously. And then he stared.

Amy squeaked a little as one of her increasingly fewer vestiges of modesty was torn roughly from her, leaving her long fingers exposed, working between her legs. She could feel her cheeks burning, her entire body throbbing with embarrassment, and yet she was wetter than she had been in a long time. How had this happened? It had only been moments ago that she had been in control; she knew from prior experience that the Doctor might usually be confident, but that throwing a little sexiness his way got him all flustered and ridiculous. His reaction had been so pronounced last time, she had thought she could rely on it; now, as his eyes swept her body, she almost felt like shrinking away from him. What had changed?

Nine hundred years... Who knew what he was capable of?

And -- was she so wet? She gasped, completely ignoring his presence in the moment she touched a sensitive place inside her, before coming back to reality and blinking; here she was, in front of -- half naked with her fingers buried inside herself. --

But it didn't matter; he was watching her, and as her hips started to roll into her fingers with each instroke, she found it harder to hold a question like that in her head. It felt too good; heat rushed through her body, and she could feel her arousal coat her fingers, and tighten her nipples. Was he still watching? Her eyes had closed, allowing her to be swept away by the sensation. Did it even matter to her?

Her extreme sensitivity was something only Rory really knew about, but as she felt her toes curling against her shoes, and she leaned back against the console for support, she realized that probably wouldn't be the case for much longer. Was she really going to do it? Bring herself to orgasm in front of the Doctor, right here in the TARDIS? Sure, she'd had that fantasy before, but never like this. How long had it been, anyway? Would it be weird if she came too quickly? What was he even expecting?

'Stop,' His voice wasn't harsh, or even very loud, but the word seemed to wrap itself around her brain. Her fingers froze, even as her body ached, so close to that final push. She watched his eyes alight briefly on the light red fuzz that sat atop her mound, then her fingers, buried up to the second knuckle therein. Was she shaking?

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