moragmacpherson: (Default)
moragmacpherson ([personal profile] moragmacpherson) wrote2009-01-20 02:28 am

Fic: The Lost Age (Prologue/??) (Buffy/DrWho/Firefly)

Title: The Lost Age (Prologue/??)
Author: [livejournal.com profile] moragmacpherson 
Rating: PG-15
Timeline: This story takes place during that sixty year block that I glossed over between chapters three and four of "Another Side of the Sky". Buffy's thirty here. In the Firefly universe, it's at the beginning of the movie.
Disclaimer: If it's a character or a place, I don't own it.  Some dialogue is recycled from the film.
Archive: Here, TtH. If you'd like it, let me know.
Betas: Depending on the chapter: MissJulie and/or Mishka,
Summary: Buffy, Jack, and the Doctor accidentally land in a system where aliens fear to tread.

Her life is defined by nights spent with cool bodies.

This one’s arm lies heavily across her back, warmed by her body heat, fingers clutching her hip ever so gently. His hearts beat in slow, deceptive time. He hasn’t slept in nearly three weeks, watching her, not leaving her side. He thinks that she’s resting, but if he doesn’t nod off occasionally or at least go work on the TARDIS, she has trouble sleeping too.

Enough is enough.

Buffy twists in the Doctor’s arms, startling him. “I’m right here. You can blink, even, and I’ll be here when your lids come up.” The Doctor is silent in response, but he pulls her up to him. His kiss is rough and possessive, his fingers now pressing hard enough to leave marks on any other woman, bending her backwards onto the bed, but that’s okay, at least this is something. How many years has she been trying to get him to shut up and loosen up in bed? She listens to the end of her nightgown as it’s torn away, he’s stronger than he lets on most of the time, and wraps her hands in his hair, trapping his tongue with her teeth. Two can play at this game...

Later, panting on top of him, Buffy plants a kiss squarely on his sweaty forehead, then looks down into those soft brown alien eyes. She’s almost tired him to the point where that haunted look is gone, but there it is, just in the corners. She dips her mouth to his, and decides that she’ll wear him out whether he likes it or not, but she’ll make sure he enjoys the ride either way.

When he wakes up, Buffy’s not in his arms, and he shoots straight up, jumping out of the sheets sans clothing or care. “I’m here, Doctor.” She’s fully dressed in those loose linen trousers he likes so much; she’s leaning on the doorjamb looking him over and boy, he is definitely naked. He sits back down on the bed and pulls the sheet over his lap.

“H-hello.” She kneels down in front of him, and he hugs her close for a moment. “I was- I just-”

“I was thinking we could go see Martha and the baby.” He nods, and she caresses his cheek with her thumb. “Maybe pop in and see Jack, take a trip somewhere nice and quiet? Possibly involving a beach?”

The Doctor thinks beaches. “Sargassia is quite nice in the twenty-sixth century.” Whoops. She watches him make the connection, but stops his impending sulk with a kiss.

“Sounds like a plan. But first, even though I know Jack would disagree, clothes might be a good idea.”

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