tagCelebrities & Fan FictionDoctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 09

Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 09


Author's note: Hello again, folks! It's been a while, huh? Sorry about that...

Well, anyway, here's chapter nine. From here on in I'll probably be posting one chapter a week until the series is over, so keep watching this space.

Special thanks go to Isabel for her proofing and editing, and to Allyourbase for some awesome plot advice that helped me resolve a couple of issues that I didn't even know I had. Thanks, you two!

Anyway, feedback, comments and votes are hugely appreciated. Hope you enjoy the story!


'Doctor, what's going on?!'

Rory held on tightly to the central control system as the TARDIS pitched heavily from side to side, switches lighting up seemingly at random. They were moving- as far as that word could be applied to the TARDIS- but Rory had no idea where.

'She's a Trine-form, Rory!' The Doctor shouted back. 'I can't believe I didn't see it immediately!'

'What does that mean?' Rory exclaimed, exasperated.

'Exactly what I said! Sander said it too: the Trine are psychically linked. If we find one, chances are we can find any other one, no matter where they are. So I'm taking us to see some friends of mine, see if I can arrange a meeting with a specialist,' The Doctor smiled for the first time since Amy had disappeared. Finally, some forward progress!

'We're going to get her back, Rory!'


Amy whimpered, a combination of humiliation and desire colouring her voice. Sander seemed so tall, standing over her as he was, his eyes roaming her body with intense interest. She had been in this position once before, on the day they had kidnapped her, but she hadn't felt quite so helpless back then. It was the way he leaned over her, so confident and assured. The way the hand he was using to support himself over her brushed against her waist in a possessive manner.

The way his hardness nestled against her vulnerable, glistening folds, ready to invade her whenever he wanted to. Amy didn't think she could stand another fucking, not in Nirvana, not with every sense pushing hungrily for every little touch or sensual pressure on her skin.

Sander closed his eyes as his head tipped toward the ceiling, inhaling deeply. This feeling... he had almost forgotten. It was intoxicating. Regardless of his higher motives, regardless of any empathy for Amy that may have been in him, this was enjoyable on its own merits.

She looked so good, with her hands tied above her head like that...

Sander slid his hips forward, pushing himself between Amy's legs and into her defenceless pussy. He gritted his teeth as Amy cried out, the wave of sensation pulsing through both of them with enough force to weaken his knees and make him lean heavily against the bed. Even Mara whooped with delight and surprise, becoming unsteady on her feet as the mental link delivered Sander's experience to her.

Sander set up a slow pace, pushing himself deeper into Amy and feeling every spasm of her muscles as he did so. The sensation, the pure pleasure and heat rebounded and multiplied by Lysithea's presence was almost transcendent. He slid down, pressing their two bodies together, feeling the heat of her flesh against him. Amy gasped with pleasure.

A curiously heavy feeling filled Sander's mind; by the drooping of Amy's eyelids, he could tell that it was in her too. Something strange was happening, but in the heat of the moment it wasn't possible to question it, or even care enough to want to try. Sander's head dipped, planting a heated kiss on Amy's breast, making her back arch against him.

He could feel her; beneath him, but also in his head. The dark colours and heavy despair of her mind lifted away like a curtain, revealing a throbbing crimson mass of lust beneath, but that was just colour. This close, with this unity of thought, Sander found himself able to see far deeper than he had been able to before.

Sander's eyes flicked up to capture Amy's; he knew immediately that, while he was looking into her, she was doing likewise. It was part curiosity, part an inexorable, unconscious gravity drawing them in, but neither could stop themselves from probing deeper into the other.

'Stop it, damn it!' Amy's voice, hissing silently in his mind. Sander's eyes widened.

'Can't...' The thought went out automatically, before he had a chance to stop it.

'I know,' Amy's mind whimpered back, along with a feeling of intense concern. They were so close together... it was inescapable.

'Relax. Should be fine,' Sander sent out another tendril of thought; dealing with this was hard enough without Amy clogging his mental processes with her fear.

'A-alright...' Her projection was shaky, and Sander got the message that she was nervous. 'Hello...'

Sander gave a tiny, internal chuckle. This close to her, everything fell away. All the anger, all the negativity, dissolved away. Revenge, kidnapping... None of it meant anything when another mind was open to you.

He was nervous, she was nervous, but they both drew closer to each other. They sank closer, doing so physically as they did so mentally. Sander could feel her thoughts, emotions and memories as clearly as though they were his own.

'Sander...' Amy's voice twanged through his head, apprehensive and hesitant. 'What happened to you to make you like this?'

Sander closed his eyes, 'I don't think I can stop you from finding out. I don't know whether this is part of the programme or not.'

He could feel her in his mind, could feel his memories parading past her like a slideshow. He could feel her welling up inside him; the sum total of her life there for the taking. She was looking into him; could he be blamed for doing likewise?

At her core, Amy was remarkably attractive; sweet, good natured, intelligent... Below everything else was a steely resolve that left Sander no doubts about how long she would continue to resist him. Love for Rory, so deep...

In many ways, she was very like Elsa.

Sander winced at the thought; it made him uncomfortable. Amy could feel it, as deeply entrenched in his mind as she was. She shuddered as another memory of thirteen years ago flitted through her, as substantial as mist. Sander had such trauma in his past... It was no wonder he had snapped.

She wondered whether Rory would turn out like that, if he couldn't find her.

Simultaneously, Sander thought the very same.

Both were pulled downwards, further into the other. Memories fell around them now, faster than before. Jumbled, mismatched images from each other's lives. Sander felt his outline begin to blur.

He saw himself, walking the streets of Vesperia, like everything was normal. Beside him, a woman. Elsa. His Elsa... No...


'Sander, you are going to deep,' Lysithea's voice clanged through him like the tolling of a bell, shattering the parade of altered memories and sending him spinning back into his own physicality. Once again, he was leaning over Amy, still inside her.

'You were in my memories,' Amy said, out loud and unsteadily. 'Like you'd been plastered over the spot where Rory should have been.'

'You were in mine,' Sander answered quickly. Unexpected warmth flooded through him, a tide of strange, alien affection for the woman beneath him. He leaned down to gently place his mouth over hers; it seemed right. Amy craned her neck, returning the kiss before breaking it with a gasp, nuzzling at Sander's neck as he moved inside her.

'What the fuck is this whole thing here?' Mara deadpanned incredulously, eyebrows arching as Amy sought out Sander's mouth for another deep, smothering kiss.

'I was afraid this might happen,' Mara turned to the motionless Lysithea as the alien's voice spread through her mind. 'It's the main reason we don't get many requests to service slaves. The connection gets stronger through sexual activity. That's what we do here. Sander and Amy... Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say that their minds merged, but they did go far deeper into each other than I would normally recommend for a master and slave pair, especially given the realities of your situation.'

'What does all this mean?' Mara asked out loud. 'Short version, please.'

'The term we use is entanglement. I pulled them out in time to stop any permanent damage to either psyche, but they both came out of it carrying just a little bit of each other in their minds,' Lysithea's head swivelled to look at Mara. 'The plain answer, barring any psychic terminology, is that Sander's now incredibly attracted to Amy, and vice versa. Is that short enough, Mara?'

'Right...' Mara frowned, pouting without realizing it. 'Can you do anything about it?'

'Not me personally,' Lysithea said out loud. 'It's really down to the two of them to figure it out, although they seem to be enjoying themselves right now,' She gestured vaguely at the shuddering, moaning duo. 'It'll probably fade in time.'

'Ooh, I like that probably!' Mara clapped her hands together, voice filled with sarcasm strong enough to etch glass.

'Entanglement is an imprecise process,' Lysithea shrugged. 'They might shrug it off the minute they leave this room, or they might fall into each other's arms and never let go.'

'And here I thought he's supposed to be fawning over me...' Mara murmured, her tone joking but the hardness in her eyes saying otherwise. 'No, no, no...'

Sander and Amy's lovemaking had wound down while Mara was lost in thought, the last shivering spasms of orgasm running through them as she pulled herself to her feet and circled the two of them, eyes soft and sparkling. Her gaze was inexorably drawn to the scar that dominated Sander's shoulder. Well, she had to start somewhere...

As Sander slipped out of Amy's glistening pussy, Mara grabbed his hand and pulled him away, giggling as she dragged him to his feet and separated him from Amy. She wore her most winning smile.

'Sander...' She purred, running her hand over his shoulder. 'Tell me about your scar.'

His brow furrowed, his eyes glanced back at Amy, 'What? I've already said I don't want to talk about it...' He trailed off.

Mara's mouth curved wickedly, 'Maybe I should just poke around in your head and find out myself,' She pulled herself closer, her breath hot on his chest, 'You seemed to like it just fine when Amy was doing it.'

Sander was silent for a moment as he tried to figure out if she was joking. It was so hard to tell, with Mara. He kept drifting back to Amy, so enticingly vulnerable in her ropes. The things he could do to her...

Looking over his shoulder, he saw her eyes glittering. He half turned toward her, then stiffened.

'Mara, stop!' He exclaimed, pushing her away as her presence loomed in his mind. She froze, staring at him with wide eyes as her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. He looked angry, but only for a moment before he turned back to Amy, his features lighting up.

As Sander moved back to the bed, Mara closed her eyes and pushed her mind deeper. There was no time to think, to consider the best path to take. She needed to fix this, before things went too far. She could see his mind, the column of blue light rising in her mind's eye.

She probed deeper, willing herself inside, and...

A dark, fiery figure rose in her mind, blocking out everything else, 'Get out!' It growled, causing Mara to stumble back and cry out in surprise.

Sander wheeled around, face frozen in anger, 'I told you to stay out, Mara! What's in my head doesn't concern you!'

Anger was the wrong emotion to call upon. Mara knew that, but when it came, spurred by the hurt of his rejection, she revelled in it, 'What the fuck do you mean? You're the one who's been trying to get all up in my business every chance you get!' She snapped.

'Was that a mistake, Mara? You don't just go poking around in someone's mind whenever you fucking feel like it.'

Mara clenched her teeth and raised her chin, eyes flashing with wounded rage, 'But it's good enough for Amy, yes? For the woman you kidnapped? I stick around for years, but you'll only share with her?' Her voice cracked.

Sander stood silent, shoulders squared and teeth bared. His mouth opened, anger forming the words for him, 'I'm beginning to think that it was for the best.'

He moved, storming out of the room. As he passed her, Mara's fists clenched and she almost moved to stop him, pausing at the last minute.

'You're just like all the others,' She whispered bitterly, just loud enough for him to hear. 'You are exactly like him.'

The door closed. Mara's eyes fell to the floor. She stood motionless.

There was stillness, and then, as if nothing had happened, Mara raised her head and sighed. Her hand rose, with the slightest, well concealed suggestion that it was wiping away tears.

'How disappointing...' Mara sighed, a tiny, fragile smile cresting her lips. 'Ah, well; come here, Amy.'

She slid down next to Amy, golden hair falling around her like a curtain. Her mouth descended, kissing Amy deeply and with desperation-edged verve. The unspoken tension was like electricity between them, conflicting with the growing lust that Lysithea was multiplying.

Amy didn't know how the infighting between Sander and Mara would affect her, but she doubted it would be good. The moment Sander had left the room that strange warmth she had felt for him had left her, leaving a momentarily gaping hole in her heart. It quickly healed, and she was nominally back to normal, but it was disturbing when it left her. Now that it was gone, she could see how ridiculous it was, but in the moment, she...

In the moment, she had, against all logic, loved him. How weird.

Mara was practically attacking her, mouth hungrily latching onto her flushed, prickling skin like it was her last meal. It was so clear that she was just distracting herself to avoid talking to Sander, how could she possibly be fooling herself with this act?

Still, Amy cried out in ecstasy as Mara's tongue flicked at her nipple. That Field was still up, inter-group conflict or not. The heat was rising, she would react to Mara's touch. She would scream, and beg, and do whatever Mara wanted. Nothing changes.


Sander sat with his back to the wall, Theros' sunlight caressing his bare skin with its warmth. He was glad; it wouldn't have been good to have to retreat back inside because he had been caught in the cold without pants.

He frowned. Back in his right mind, Sander felt entirely self-conscious about what had happened between himself and Amy. In the moment, there had been no difference in his mind between Amy and Elsa. The two had been the same. Now, with the moment dead and gone, the guilt of even thinking that was overwhelming. Elsa had been his motivation; how could he have muddled that?

But he was back to normal now. Amy was... They were both back to normal now.

But Mara... He shouldn't have said that to her. He felt bad, but she had tried to enter his mind. You don't just do that. There were things in there he hadn't shared for a reason. They were uniquely his, the last remnants of what was precious to him. They were not to be pried apart and analysed for Mara's amusement.

That was the problem with anger; it never lets you back down, even if you know you should.

'Oh, my...' Sander stiffened as Lysithea's voice reached into his mind and laughed. 'It's a pity that you and Mara are fighting, Sander.'

'Lysithea?' Sander projected. 'I thought you said you weren't going into my head anymore.'

'I can see that the both of you care, deep down,' Lysithea went on without stopping. 'But neither of you will make the first move? Too bad. If only the two of you had... I don't know, a way of reading the other's mind? Would that work, I wonder?' Sander hadn't thought that it was possible for a thought to poke him in the chest, but Lysithea was giving it a damn good effort.

'I get it...'

'Somebody has to make the first move, Sander Hackett. Mara won't. I'm wondering why you haven't yet?'

'Alright! Fine, I'm going!' Sander tried to think exasperated thoughts. He stood, and experimentally flexed his mind along the connection. He could feel Mara and Amy, even from this distance, but they were doing naughty things. He actually couldn't tell which was which; their thoughts were so similar. Naughty things. He felt his knees go weak and his eyes slide skyward; even out here things felt pretty intense.

'God damn it...' He sighed, closing his eyes. He would have to go back in there. It was the only way.


The Doctor lurched to one side as the TARDIS came to a stop. Before Rory could even recover from the same shuddering landing, the Time Lord was already opening the doors and stepping out into a deep pool of shadow beyond.

'Right!' The alien snapped. 'Let's get this over with.'

'Right!' Rory affirmed. 'Right? What are we doing?'

The Doctor ignored him as he was swallowed up by the shadows. Rory momentarily contemplated just how many bad things happened in the dark before following him; whatever was out there couldn't possibly be worse than never finding Amy.

'Viral, I know you're out here!' The Doctor yelled. 'You can't hide from me. Well, I suppose you could, but I'd just keep yelling at you! I've got time, and-'

'Don't get distracted, Doctor,' Rory followed the sound of the Time Lord's voice through the swimming blackness, groping his way into the same dim circle of light that the immortal now occupied.

'Yes, right...' He nodded. 'Viral!' The Doctor squinted, casting his eyes through the inky shadows as though sheer energy would illuminate the way ahead.

'I am here, Time Lord.'

Rory stiffened as something in that unseen voice raced through his mind and repeatedly pressed his "Primal Terror" button. It was a deep, ageless voice that spoke with tectonic deliberation and sweeping malice. It sidled through the darkness and right into his brain.

'What the hell is that?' Rory hissed, hoping fervently that whatever it was, it couldn't hear him.

'The Earth-Clan will be silent,' Something shifted in the shadows, the vague suggestion of an immense, craggy pincer becoming visible for a second. 'I do not have business with it.'

'No, but you do have business with me, Viral,' The Doctor said coldly, eyeing a patch of gloom that Rory assumed was playing host to whatever the hell Viral was.

'Yes, Gallifreyan,' Viral rumbled. 'I do. You want to find the woman with the red hair. I can help you.'

Rory opened his mouth to ask the obvious question, but the Doctor's cool glare silenced him. When the huge shadowy monster demands silence, it's best to acquiesce. His hands balled into fists as, once again, he was rendered completely useless while the Doctor found his wife for him.

'We know she was with a Trine-form recently,' The Doctor said, addressing a volcanic rumbling from the dark, as though two huge stones were rubbing together. 'Psychically connected, even. That should be enough for you to go on, right?'

Viral opened its eyes, two circular yellow lights shining brightly in the blackness. With this added illumination, Rory could more clearly see the vast carapace of the monster before him. He didn't think it was possible, but he stiffened further, Viral's eldritch gaze swinging momentarily to him, which didn't help matters.

They were standing on a stone platform hanging over a pool of infinite darkness, in the middle of a cavern. Behind them, the TARDIS sat at the end of a pathway covered thickly in dark, earthy-smelling dirt, seeming altogether too far away.

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