such_heights | Whoverse Kisslets! :*

Ianto and the Doctor (ten or eleven, as you please *g*)

Eight and Reinette, or Sarah-Jane and River. Because it suddenly occurred to me that I could approve of both these things.

ooooh, ooooh, Martha/Donna, please! OR, Martha/Sarah Jane.

Rosita & Jackson because I'm still dead chuffed with The Next Doctor.

Blood and adrenaline pounds through Mickey's head as he follows Jake down the corridor, fast as they can run. All the Cybermen seem incapacitated, but neither Mickey nor Jake wants to find out the hard way if this isn't the case. There's a counting down ticking away on Mickey's phone, giving them just enough time to get clear of the place before an easily-missed but rather important piece of machinery malfunctions and causes the whole place to blow.

But the halls are clear, save for a few collapsed shells, moaning eerily in cybernetic voices. Mickey almost trips over one once, and jumps a foot in the air, suppressing the urge to shriek like a 1950s housewife. Jake turns and shoots him an expression of disdain and then nearly trips over another malfunctioning Cyberman, and then they both keep running because there is hardly time for disputes now.

They sprint out the factory doors with ten seconds to spare, and then Mickey throws himself at Jake to push them both off the road and down a short grassy slope. In his pocket, the timer beeps urgently to zero, and then the boom of the factory exploding fills the air and his ears. He's dazed for a moment, but then Jake's pulling him to his feet and they're coughing in the dust and smoke, staring back at the mangled remains of the factory with the beginnings of glee.

Mickey whoops, and then Jake grabs him by the shirt and kisses him. And it all makes sense then, standing at the side of the road, covered in dust and smoke and sweat and blood, that Mickey grin as widely as his jaw will let him, and kiss back.

I'd love to see Jenny kiss her way through Torchwood. :D Or Jenny and Tish.

*grin*

---

Undercover in a nightclub. Ianto had really thought he'd moved past this stage in his career already, but clearly not. Jack and Gwen were positioned at the exits in case whatever was causing the strange energy readings emanating from the whole building decided to make a run for it. Ianto, meanwhile, had been shoved towards the interior and instructed to 'go and prowl', whatever that meant.

Lurking in a corner, he scanned the room. Nothing unusual to see, nothing strange coming up on his readings - these power surges had been becoming more and more erratic, could be a few minutes or a few hours before anything of interest happened. He drummed his fingers against a wall, then instantly regretted it as he made contact with something sticky and unidentifiable. Concealed in the shadows as he was, he was still beginning to attract attention from people passing by from the bar, alone as he was, sober and watchful. So much for blending into the scenery.

One bloke in particular had been watching him for a good minute or so. Ianto looked in his direction, stared him out, and in return he got a wave, long, thin fingers curling down then up, accompanied by a broad grin. Not much of a threat, then.

Ianto would probably be bored right out of his skull before he'd finished this mission. He wandered over, still looking around the room at intervals. The man's eyes went wide, and before Ianto had a chance for any opening conversational gambits - "hello", "who are you?", "this whole place is abysmal" - the man pressed those fingers beneath Ianto's jaw, considered him curiously for a moment, then pulled him forwards.

"Oh, what the hell," Ianto muttered, and went with it.

The man was murmuring something indiscernible into Ianto's mouth, exploring him by taste and touch. Ianto felt uncommonly like a science project, but he didn't step back.

The man brushed his lips across Ianto's cheek, up towards his ear. "Hello, Ianto Jones."

Ianto's hand flew to his gun before he had a chance to think.

"Hey, easy there," said the man, wrapping his hands around Ianto's wrists and holding him still. "No need for that. You're tracing strange energy patterns, am I right? Huge amount of power, but erratic and unpredictable, all coming from someone or something or other in this very club. Now, my best guess just from the readings I've taken over the past half an hour suggest it's some sort of sensor, taking random samples of this fine strata of Cardiff's population. Probably some over-eager Galans on a research assignment or New Martian sociologists, not much to worry about as long as whatever they're using is calibrated correctly - and who can possibly say on that last score."

Ianto thought, with a terrible sinking feeling, that he didn't really need to ask. "Who are you?"

"Oh, I'm the Doctor - brand new model, as you can see, heaven only knows what Jack will have to say about this one. Right, you'd better take me to wherever he is, hadn't you? Unless Torchwood's got designs on arresting me again, today I'm simply not in the mood."

Ianto straightened his tie in an attempt to regain some control of the situation.

The Doctor laughed, strange and new and completely recognisable. "You humans and your funny little contact initiation rituals, I'd forgotten about that. Come on, Ianto, you can get to know me better later if you really like."

Aww, yay, thanks for that! Running and lots of explosions and Mickey being a dork, that's undoubtedly the perfect set-up. :D

Someone had to write the Mickey/Jake one. :D It was my pleasure. I'm glad it went over well.

Ooh, Andy/Gwen, please? Or Reinette/Rose.

Ooh, win win - I arbitrarily choose the second! It takes place in some sort of amorphous pre-New Who period. *handwave*

*

Sarah Jane brushes stray strands of hair back from her face. She's hot and beginning to tire and indescribably happy. "You know," she says to her companion, "I was always told archaeology was a dry subject."

River stares out at the miles of desert they're surrounded by and snorts with laughter. "You're proving yourself quite capable anyway, Ms. Smith."

"Oh, thank you, Professor Song," Sarah Jane replies with a grin. "That will be down to my excellent teacher, I'm quite sure."

"Really? You must introduce us sometime."

Sarah Jane laughs and ducks her head, colouring a little in a way that's probably not to do with the heat. "So when do we get to find anything interesting, anyway?" she asks, wondering whether River can hear the uncertain hope that's bubbling up behind her words.

"Anything interesting?" River repeats incredulously. "I bring you all the way out here, centuries into your future, in a spaceship and none of that counts as interesting?"

"Oh, you think you're so flash - spaceships are old news to me, I'll have you know."

River rolls her eyes. "Typical, I end up all the way back in the 20th century, and I wind up with the most high-maintenance date imaginable."

"Oh," Sarah Jane says softly. "Is that -- I wasn't sure."

River leans towards her, brushes traces of sand from her lower lip. "Well, I'd be entirely mad otherwise, wouldn't I?" she says.

Sarah Jane is sitting right on top of an ancient civilisation, two alien suns high in the sky, and with River's mouth warm and smiling against her own, it feels like the centre of the universe.

Edited 2009-01-12 00:14 (UTC)

Ooooooh! This is utterly delightful. :)

Mickey/Ianto.

And I'll probably ask for more at some point :D ♥

This is wonderful! Great meme idea, too. I'll be keeping an eye on this post! :D

Seconding the Eight and Reinette.

Mickey and Jack please!

Oh man, how to choose! Okay, Martha/Donna FOR NOW.

*

The first time, they've just saved the world, watched a whole planet bloom in front of their eyes, forged with a death right at its centre. Martha hadn't forgotten this, the potent, terrible mix of euphoria and grief, but it's still strange to be standing in the TARDIS again. She's promised herself she wouldn't come back here, not like this, because she knows how the stories end and she's never been one for beautiful tragedies.

Donna doesn't see it that way, not yet. She just glows, she's full of brave new hope and bright new stars, and maybe Martha really has forgotten how that felt, how she was before she fought a war. Donna's a reminder of everything Martha is still fighting for, and she loses sight of that more than she should.

She can tell the TARDIS has landed, and she hasn't found the words to say before Donna comes to find her.

"We're back on Earth," Donna says quietly.

Martha holds her hands out wide, wraps her arms around Donna. She'll say whatever goodbyes she can find back in the console room, but for now all she wants to do is hold Donna, keep her close and safe, just for one moment. She presses her lips to Donna's cheek, not quite chaste, not quite anything else, and she still doesn't know what she wants to say.

---

The second time, there's a ring at Martha's door. It doesn't matter that Donna's not anxious or urgent or in danger, unwritten rules require Martha to drop everything and follow her.

"I just --" Donna begins, but Martha shakes her off. There's no explanation necessary.

They spend the day doing silly, inconsequential things - wandering through London, hopping on and off the Tube with no set direction in mind. Martha doesn't talk about UNIT, Donna doesn't talk about alien worlds. They could be anyone, and it's intoxicating.

They sit on the low steps at Covent Garden and watch a magician entertaining children. Their knees knock together, comfortable, and when Donna's hand falls back across Martha's thigh, Martha settles in a little closer. She feels Donna's smile just before she feels her swift fierce kiss on her temple.

---

The final time comes after they've accomplished the impossible, saved countless lives, and brought their planet back home. The TARDIS is full of joy and song and strung-out, battle-worn heroes, all united in their indescribable experiences. There's nothing but love and friendship inside these walls, and all former limits are off.

Donna doesn't look surprised when Martha tangles their fingers together beneath a table. When they make their excuses and slip away, Martha swings their hands up, kissing Donna's palm as Donna slips an arm around her waist. Martha doesn't have a lot of hope any more, but this feels like a promise, a beginning.

this is WONDERFUL! Oh my gosh. I love the two of them together, strung-out battle-worn heroes, yes yes. There's so much longing and affection in this piece, it just fills me up with joy. thank you!

"How is he?" Rosita asks as Jackson creeps out of the nursery.

Jackson nods. "Asleep, and peaceful too - for now at least."

"He'll recover, I'm certain of it," she says.

"Yes, children do. What about you?"

Rosita shrugs. "Nothing to complain of. How are you keeping?"

He smiles. "God has let me keep some blessings. I ask for nothing more."

She laughs at that. "Would that everyone were so philosophical! Jackson Lake, I think there are some things you may never learn."

He doesn't get a chance to ask what she means before she walks right up to him, brushes her hand down his cheek and kisses him softly. "And I hope that there are some things I hope you will," she says, her lips barely parted from his.

"All these things in the fullness of times," she offers as final words before she walks away.

Jackson stands in the corridor, tracing the outline of his mouth with thoughtful fingers, and thinks about new philosophies.

original!Jack/Ianto if possible! \o/

Oo-hmm. Eight/Martha, please?

Oh, fun!

*

"Captain Harkness!" Jenny runs up to the man in the long, swishy coat, who looks at her in bewilderment. "I've heard so much about you," she says, and kisses him soundly.

"I -- huh? And who are you?" he asks when she steps back down. His colleagues seem to be laughing at him.

Jenny beams. "Oh, plenty of time for introductions, I think I'll be staying here a while."

He arches an eyebrow at that. "Really now."

She nods. "Really."

Jack looks like he's going for the fierce and imposing leader look, but he cracks a bit of an intrigued smile.

---

"Jack says you're not to touch anything until he clears you for it," says Ianto as he shows her around the Hub.

She crosses her arms, disgruntled. "I'm not a kid on a school trip, you know."

"Never said you were. Only there are approximately a thousand ways you can vaporise the whole of South Wales from inside here."

"There are?" Jenny grins. "Cool."

Ianto looks amused. "Yes, well." He extends an arm to her. "Will you accompany me to the computer workstations, my lady?"

She nods approvingly and takes his arm. "Certainly, Mr. Jones."

He laughs, and she presses a kiss to his soft, soft cheek.

---

Jenny doesn't care how impatient she looks. "At this rate you're going to tell me you really never leave here."

Gwen throws her arms up in defeat. "Fine, fine. This can wait until tomorrow." She grabs her things and they head out into the Cardiff evening.

Jenny pays attention to everything, trying to assimilate every bit of culture and information she comes across. This planet, this era, she knows it's important to her dad, and she'd like to find out why. It's a strange mix of archaic and modern, the clueless civilians living right above Torchwood, an institute with more information than Jenny can hope to absorb in just this one visit.

Gwen answers all of her questions and looks happy to do so, and takes her to a crowded building called a pub, where men and women sit and drink and laugh. Gwen goes up to where the serving staff are, promising to get Jenny something she'll like. Jenny looks around, and watches the pair on the table next to her. They're talking and talking, and then they lean in across their table so that their foreheads are almost touching, looking at each other as if they're unaware there's anyone else in the world. She kisses the bridge of his nose, the tip, his mouth. He smiles and takes her hand.

When Gwen sits down again across from Jenny, offering her something clear and sparkling, Jenny leans towards her and repeats the action.

Gwen looks startled, but her mouth is warm and her eyes are pleased.

---

Jenny's watching Tosh's work over her shoulder, trying not to get in her way but it's all so interesting, she can't help the occasional question.

"And what does that program run?"

"Jenny!" says Tosh. It's almost a snap.

Jenny turns to apologise just as Tosh turns to face her, and their cheeks brush clumsily together for a moment before they're face to face.

"Well, I suppose that would be one way to have some peace and quiet for a while," Tosh murmurs. She reaches to cup Jenny's face, and there's something sad and yearning playing across her features for a moment.

Jenny pulls Tosh up from her work station, and finds that her kisses are slow and firm and not sad at all.

---

Owen's condition is fascinating, it sends a chill down Jenny's spine even as she wants to know more. He lets her watch as he stitches himself up again with what are clearly practised motions - threading his palm together, wrapping up his fingers.

He laughs, sounding bitter. "Look at me, what a mess."

Jenny slips down from the surface she's perched on and walks over to press her fingers on his bandges.

"Woah, careful," he says. "Mind you, I won't feel a thing."

She wraps her hands around his and dips down to gently kiss his knuckles. He watches her cautiously when she meets his eye again.

She takes a few steady breathes, and then she says, quietly, "I was shot once, too."

Ooh, Brilliant!

You are so my hero right now. I mean, more so than usual. That definitely needed to happen. :D

N'aww, Andy. :D

*

They reach a strange equilibrium, Andy and Gwen. Andy never asks for as much as he wants, Gwen always gives him a little more than she should. He's not quite in Torchwood, and he's not quite out. That's the thing, really, if they lived any other life this would all be out of joint and maybe a little unsavoury, but the blood-sucking aliens that come to haunt the streets of Cardiff will always be Gwen's priority over and above everything else, and Andy learned to trust her judgement long ago when they were just starting out on training together.

He hates Rhys sometimes, puts up with him mostly, and that's all for Gwen's sake too. There are worse motivations.

Things change over time, they grow. Andy meets more aliens, learns something about time and space, though Gwen always knows so much more, increasing her lead on him year by year, and sometimes Andy wonders if she's going to end up ruling the world. He tries not to let her rule his world more than necessary, at least.

One grim, rain-soaked evening finds Andy curled up in an alleyway, inches away from being gored by a particularly tusk-ridden beast and only saved by the fact that Gwen is a terrifyingly accurate shot these days.

He might whimper a little as the alien's body thuds to the ground next to him. This has all been far, far too close for comfort.

"Andy, Andy!" Gwen rushes towards him, her gun clattering to the ground, and then she's all heat and soft questions and reassurance.

"Hi," he says weakly. "Thanks."

"I thought --" She whacks his arm. "You really had me going for a moment!"

"Got to keep you on your toes, haven't I?"

Gwen laughs, and then she gently presses her lips to his. He goes still, smiles a little against the kiss. It's as much as she's willing to give, and Andy realises that this is all he wants to take. He doesn't break the moment and thinks, a little rueful, that it would take the corpse of a murderous alien to get them to a place he can really call a balance.

Oh, semi-Torchwood Andy! And alien hunting and near-death experiences and this was so, so awesome, thank you!

Ianto hasn't really got the measure of Mickey, not yet. He's smart, savvy, pretty unflappable - especially where Jack's concerned, and that's definitely a plus in a new recruit. Gwen thinks he's brilliant, but Ianto can't help but miss Tosh a little, miss someone else who was more inclined to stop and think and let silence fill the cracks they all have.

Maybe that's just it. Mickey's extraterrestial levels of knowledge aside, he's just normal. It's almost unsettling.

They spend most of one week on the trail of a crime prevention force that wound up the wrong side of the Rift, and with nowhere to go have started to carry out the force of their own laws way beyond their jurisdiction. Their methodology consists of calculating probability of criminal behaviours and then eliminating the possibility before it's realised. The mood in the Hub is strained, more so when it turns out the new threat's robotic, these officers encased in metal armour.

Mickey makes a lot of rapid adjustments to all their heavy weaponry, recalibrating energy beams based on a severed metallic head he brings back to base and that no one asks too many questions about.

Ianto gets word of a disturbance around the other side of the bay, and he and Mickey drive out in tense silence. Ianto tries not to think too much about what they're going to find, doesn't want to hear the heavy thudding of steel footsteps before he has to, scraping and hissing and the whirr of motors.

When they get to the scene there are three machines, all bearing down on a boy who can't be older than thirteen. Mickey freezes at the sight, but their presence is enough to distract the robots, giving Ianto a chance to sweep the kid and send him hurtling on his way.

Denied their prey, all three of the robots turn on Ianto, and suddenly he's cut off from the SUV and their armoury. Very smooth there, Jones.

Then one of the robots collapses to its knees, bright with electric currents all over it, frying its circuits. Ianto tries not to remember conversion units and chaos and a long, slow subterranean death. The next two follow in quick succession, burning out on the ground with Mickey towering over them, raging like an avenging god.

He tells Ianto to get out of the way, and then he doesn't stop, hefting up another gun and blasting the inert remains to pieces.

"Mickey," Ianto says, again and again, but he doesn't get through until he walks right up to him, grabbing Mickey's arm before he has a chance to do anything.

Mickey flinches, but he lets the gun drop. As he comes back to himself Ianto grips his shoulders, and Mickey almost falls onto him. With horrible clarity, Ianto understands. He lays one palm at the nape of Mickey's neck and rubs slow, broad circles against the small of his back.

"It's okay, it's okay, you're all right," he murmurs, pressing a rough kiss to Mickey's jaw. "We'll stop them, find them all and destroy them if we have to. They won't hurt anyone." He takes a deep breath, his hands moving to Mickey's shoulderblades, holding on. "I lost someone too," he says.

Mickey shudders, once, and goes still.

"You're an excellent dancer," she says as he leads her once more about the room. "Though a little unorthodox, if you'll pardon me."

"I find orthodoxy to be quite overrated," he replies.

She can certainly see that, it's evident in the way his hair falls unmanaged, how the elegance of his clothes seems to be born more of wildness and natural grace than style or any conscious thought.

"Then we are alike," she says, and turns into the next steps of the dance. She studies his face for a moment, his eyes. "You remind me so much of someone I once knew. Someone I fear I shall never see again." She tries to stop her heart sinking at the thought; it's easier, now.

He laughs, not unkindly. "Oh, I think that's unlikely. My kin are long ago and far away from here."

"I am sorry for that."

"So am I," he says. "Still, they call me, and I must return to them."

She frowns. "I don't understand you."

"My lady, I must away to war tomorrow."

She can see his pleasure in the stylised words and in the way he inclines his head, regal yet effortless, but mostly she sees sadness and fear, and so all other questions are irrelevant.

The dance ends, and he bends to kiss her hand. "Madame, truly, it has been my pleasure."

"The honour has been mine, sir," she says. "I wish you godspeed in all your battles."

He smiles, and then he's gone, the work of a moment before Reinette has a chance to say anything more. She swallows down the impulse that almost called him 'Doctor'.

OMG!

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ + INFINITY.

I think Jenny/Owen is my favorite! But they are all excellent. You are constructed entirely of awesome, you know that, right?

This is so one of my sekrit ships. :D

*

Martha's wedding has been a remarkably peaceful affair - no family rows, no technical mishaps, and not even an alien invasion to really set the day off. Martha herself looks nothing short of stunned by how well it's gone, and Mickey's delighted for her. She's a good sort, is Martha, and there's no doubt her and Tom both deserve several years' worth of rest and happiness, though the chances of that long passing without something spectacular cropping up range from infinitesimal to none at all.

It's good to see most of the old gang here: Sarah Jane with a trio of kids, and Jack with his team. Mickey thinks he might just have glimpsed the Doctor for a moment, hovering at the back for the ceremony itself, but if it was him he didn't stay, and no one seemed to blame him for it.

Jack and Martha conspired to get all of them on the same table, and now they're swapping stories, one-upping each other as they go. They're all so engrossed that nobody notices that the music's started for some time, not until Rhys declares that that's enough shop talk for one day and tugs Gwen to her feet, who goes with a grin. Martha and Tom are already sailing around the dancefloor, and after Jack makes sufficiently imploring eyes at Sarah Jane she laughs and gets up too, telling her charges to go amuse themselves however they see fit - they scatter gratefully, Clyde tugging Luke's arm.

Mickey and Ianto sit at the table, watching the dancers and talking about nothing in particular. Ianto seems content to sit in the background and drink his beer rather than go on public display with everyone else, and Mickey's more than happy to join in.

Their escape plan's ruined when Gwen reappears, depositing Rhys and sweeping up Ianto, who looks powerless to resist. Mickey barely gets a chance to speak to Rhys before Jack comes over to them, and extends a hand to Mickey with all due gallantry.

"Mr. Smith, might I have the next dance?" he asks, grinning wide.

Mickey feels oddly like he ought to get someone's permission, but Rhys just shrugs, looking amused, so Mickey gets to his feet and lets Jack walk him to the dance floor.

"Oh hell," he mutters good-naturedly, "you're going to make me follow, aren't you?"

Jack's answering laugh verges on a cackle.

---

Mickey's not sure how it is that Jack Harkness progressed from pain in the arse to brother in arms to someone he's starting to count a friend, but there you have it. Jack proves to be a pretty good dancer -- like that's a surprise -- and it's not too hard to fall into rhythm and step with him. It's a nice, normal sort of a thing. Normal being a relative word, these days, because in a previous life Mickey's pretty sure he'd never have wound up with an immortal dance partner from the far future.

Jack's cajoling him to come work for Torchwood, muttering sweet nothings in his ear about priceless, really cool technology and resting a possessive hand on Mickey's hip. That's just it, really. Mickey doesn't want to belong to anyone, he feels like he needs to be his own man for a while. He can't do that at Torchwood, not Jack's Torchwood, which takes you over heart and soul - probably the only way it could ever work, but Mickey can't give himself to that, not yet.

The song ends.

"You'll still think about it, won't you?" Jack asks.

Mickey nods. "I will."

He means it, too, because he knows how important Torchwood's work is, and more to the point, he really has grown to like Jack enormously.

"Mickey?" Jack frowns.

"Yeah. Okay, yeah." Not sure what more to say, he quickly kisses Jack, who makes a soft, surprised sound. It's a show of faith, it might even be a pledge of future allegiance. At any rate, it's something.

Yup, this was the one that nearly broke my brain for a bit - congratulations! *g*

*

Ianto leans out of the high window, watching the movement of the old-fashioned street below. If you'd asked him a month ago what he'd be doing for his summer holiday, his answer might have been work, could have been the south of France, but it certainly wouldn't have entailed getting stuck in 1930s America.

Then there are hands running deftly along his shoulders and kisses being placed down his spine. "Ianto, it's Sunday. Come back to bed."

Ianto turns to Jack -- not the Jack he's known, a different one, a former one, like a past life and the flicker of an innocence lost -- and nods. "Yes," he says, repeats, and kisses Jack's mouth, his throat, the dip of his collarbone.

He lets himself be drawn back to cool sheets and warm arms, runs his hands through Jack's hair as he bites firmly down on Ianto's shoulder, his fingers splayed out against Ianto's ribs. Jack hums in quiet pleasure, so Ianto kisses the crown of his head, thinking that perhaps being lost and out of time is not so hopeless after all.

Edited 2009-01-13 18:19 (UTC)

Oh my god.

(That is all.)

I was teetering on the brink of shipping this, ever since I wrote genfic with them, and... fuck it, now I do. :D

Okay, this turned out a little strange, apologies!

*

"Sir, you have to be still," Martha says, trying to calm the man, who's shaking wildly on the ground.

"I --" He's breathing erratically, deep, frantic gasps. "Burning . . . everything's--" He screams, his voice full of manic grief, and it's one of the most horrifying things Martha's ever heard; it's the sound of civilisations blazing out.

"Please." She's struggling to keep it together. Dammit, she should manage this, and there's backup on the way, but she's run through with fear and she's not sure why.

The man goes still and glassy-eyed, his pulse growing thready and then undetectable. Martha tries to resuscitate him, opening his mouth and pushing air into his lungs, but it's no good for what seems like forever. Then he gasps, and holds on to her shoulders with an intense gaze.

"I'm --" He falls back to the ground again. "I'm regenerating."

"Doctor?" Martha can hardly breathe. She holds tight to his arm, and then she witnesses the whole world turn to gold, gold light.

Aw, oh, Eight. You're right, this is so different from what I expected, but oh. It's almost like a reverse Parting of the Ways--how fitting.

*gigglesnort* god woman you are gold

GUH! Omg new favorite companion pairing, I love you

It's as much as she's willing to give, and Andy realises that this is all he wants to take. fabulous line!

Ten/Jackson or Ianto/Owen

*sniffles* oh my god, perfect

awwwwwwwwwwwww so sweet!!!

OH MY GOD YOU JUST KILLED ME!

EDIT: and you've just made me want to write an angsty Eight fic.... oh boy

Edited 2009-01-14 17:16 (UTC)

Now that is just a nice sweet Torchwood moment there

I can't believe you did that but you so completely did!

!!!!!!!!! That was so perfectly in character! Thank you!

Yes, yes, yes, yes.
Yay.

Yay.
I'm not sure I have more of a comment than that. But this is a very cool idea, and a lovely moment.

Oh! for both of them.
This might be my new favourite Who pairing.

tiughaieoruhriugbaeiorugarughoaieubauegiar
oh. OH. oh my.
*flails slightly*
no words.

Whoverse Kisslets! :*

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Ianto/Eleven

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Sarah Jane/River

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Martha/Donna

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Jenny/Team Torchwood

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Mickey/Ianto

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Mickey/Jack

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