|miss_s_b (miss_s_b) wrote,|
@ 2009-09-29 12:59 am UTC
|Entry tags:||drabbles, fic|
“Thank you! We sure didn't want to have to go to that creepy old house!” Janet smiled briefly, awkwardly, at the strange man who had mended their tyre with some kind of glowing screwdriver, and hopped into the car, quickly followed by Brad.
They sped off into the rain. The Doctor and Martha exchanged glances, and then looked towards the house behind them. As if on cue, a flash of lightning illuminated the strange dome atop it.
“Shall we?” enquired the Doctor, extending an elbow.
“Lets!” Martha took his arm and they sauntered off into another adventure.
(for extra bonus here's my first Rocky/Who crossover drabble)
“Sir! The infernal noise of your machine is torment to me!” the blonde man wept as the Doctor strode out of the TARDIS “and the lady's shoes! Please, I beg you, ask her to remove them!”
“What's wrong with my shoes?” whined Peri, looking down at the hot pink stilettos.
“I think it's the noise they make on the floor” supplied the Doctor, in a stage whisper which would have deafened Helen Keller.
Roderick Usher wrapped his arms around his head and curled up in the foetal position. It was going to be a long day.
“I never wanted to see this place again” Kirk's face was dark, the rage that always drove him more than usually visible.
“Jim, the man is dead. There's nothing you can do.” McCoy laid a brotherly hand on Kirk's shoulder and squeezed.
“The Doctor is right, Captain.” Spock's hand was more ginger, but appeared on the other shoulder none the less. “Kodos is beyond the reach of justice.”
Kirk reached up to his own shoulders and patted their hands.
The mask of reckless humour replaced, Kirk made a suggestion. “C'mon, lets go to that bar. I bet you a case of Saurian Brandy I can outdrink the both of you!”
“I assure you, Mr Hunt, that if you make trouble for me you will regret it. I am the President of the...”
“I don't care if you're the Lord God Almighty, love. The Gene Genie does not take kindly to having his operations compromised by tarts in flashy dresses. TYLER! Get your bloody trousers on and get out here! We've got a murderer to catch, and here you are wasting time knobbing some posh bint?”
Sam scurried out of the hotel room, hurriedly pulling on his clothes and glancing apologetically at Servalan. He'd return to this investigation later.
Sweat plastered the Doctor's curls to his forehead as he panted, naked, blindfolded, into the carpet. He could feel molten wax setting on his back, heat biting into the whipscores, and a spike heel exerting a rather uncomfortable amount of pressure on his left buttock.
“I can be cruel” drawled Peri, grinding her heel into his flesh and eliciting a gasp that was right on the edge between pain and pleasure “... but let me be gentle with you, now...”
She straddled him, and the feather-light touch of her breasts meeting his shoulderblades led in to a rain of soft kisses on the back of his neck.
“Who is he, Mummy Bear?” Baby Bear's eyes were like saucers as they followed the man with the rasping voice in the motorised wheelchair around the room “and why is he in our house?”
Davros had not noticed the ursine owners of the house returning through the back door; all his attention was focussed on the front. Suddenly, the house's front door opened and Nyder entered, carrying a black box.
“Ah, my penis bearer!” declared Davros in satisfied tones.
Nyder unscrewed a panel on the front of the chair, and began installing the contents of the box.
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