Title: Just a Bite (1/2)
Author: Lilac Summers
Fandom: Doctor Who
A/N: Inspired after reading the story Moonlighting, by wnnb_darklord which is supposed to be friendship but I unashamedly read shippiness into anything Ten/Donna.
"It's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, is what it is."
"Yes, well..." muttered the Doctor, shifting nervously from foot to foot.
"I mean, they aren't even real! You said so!" Donna reminded him, sharply.
"I've been known to be wrong...once or twice. Apparently, I was wrong this time."
"'Oh, don't be daft, Donna! No such thing as a vampire...just mutations or plasma-consuming races like the plasmavores, but none of that Bram Stoker balderdash.' That's what you said!"
"Blimey, and word for word. Didn't think you actually ever paid attention."
"And now, as if I needed any further proof that you're talking out your arse half the time," seethed Donna, advancing towards him.
"Oi! Langua-thhhh" and that was the sound of the Doctor's exclamation slurring to a halt as Donna pinched his upper lip and lifted it to reveal a gleaming fang.
"...you swan back in here to tell me you've been turned into a vampire!"
"Can't leave you alone for five minutes. Can't take one second to come back by myself to the TARDIS to use the loo because Planet Of Eternal Night had a confusing lack of toilets--"
"That really thould have behn our firtht clue..."
"--not that you ever bother to do any research like, ever, before we land somewhere. And there you go, probably walked up to the first blood-thirsty looking native the minute I left, prancing around with that long skinny neck of yours--"
"Can't help it I have a gratheful neck!"
"--and I bet when the vampire came after you, instead of running like any sane person would you probably did the whole 'ooh, aren't you lovely!' bit--"
"--which is flat-out flirting in 99% of the universe and you should know that by now! So naturally said vampire thought it was okay to chomp on you, though why anyone would want to take a bite out of you, I'll never understand, with it --"
"Thith regeneration ith really rather attractive!"
"--probably being difficult as hell trying to wring any blood out of a skinny twig like you --"
"I'm thlim and foxy, many have thaid!"
"-- the poor vampire was probably hungrier after he fed on you than before he even started! I don't understand how you can have the survival instincts of a lemming--"
"Lemmingth are under-appreciated creaturth!"
"--and so here I am, with a Doctor turned vampire!"
After a beat, the Doctor realized she was done with her rant. "You done? Leggo of my lip now?"
Donna released him and stepped back to huffily cross her arms over her chest. "You better not be one of those foofy glittery ones, or I'll stake you myself."
"Glittery vampires? That's just bollocks, no such thing as--"
"That's what you said about 'regular' vampires! I'm warning you now, Doctor, that I'm not stepping foot off this TARDIS if you're going to embarrass me all over the universe by glittering like a bespangled Vegas showgirl every time you're hit by the sun."
"Sounds like fun, but no. I'm not a 'foofy glittery' kind. Just your basic blood-drinking, sun-burning, don't die sort. Inconvenient, really. Welll, the not being able to go out in the sun, at least. Everything else isn't too different than being a Time Lord. 'Cept for the blood part. Welll, we do have a long history of being particularly fond of blood pudding. 'Course, humans eat all sorts of animal parts so why blood drinking would be any worse I don't under--"
"Shut it! This means I'm never going to get taken to a sunny beach now, doesn't it? This was all part of some evil master plan to deny me my beach vacation."
"Nah. Pretty sure I've got super-duper waterproof 100% full spectrum UV blocker spray around here somewhere. Assuming the ultra violet rays of this solar system are even the same as other solar systems, in which case I won't even have to worry about it. Even then, it is the Planet of Eternal Night...maybe they don't even have UV rays. Gonna have to look into that."
Donna shifted suspiciously. "And no sudden urge to turn evil? No lost soul? No inexplicable need to try to take over the world and make humans your personal blood slaves?"
The Doctor scratched his chin, thoughtful expression on his face as he did a quick internal scan of his 'urges', as Donna called them. "No more than usual, I think."
Donna seemed slightly mollified. "So just your regular emo self, then. Okay. As long as I don't have to turn Buffy on you, I suppose I can live with it."
"So...we good here?" the Doctor clarified tentatively.
The Doctor beamed a wide, fangy smile at her. "Look at you, Donna, citizen of Earth, taking your traveling companion turning into a vampire all in a stride! You've come such a long way from your narrow little human view."
She turned on her heel and headed towards the main hall. "Meh. After surviving a meta-crisis, little can shock me now. And there could be worse things, I suppose."
The Doctor looked pained at the reminder. It had taken him several months of frantically combing the universe for a way to remove the Time Lord energy from Donna, unlock her own memories, and not have her burn, to boot. He'd returned to Chiswick, gotten Donna all sorted, and back to their merry travels on the TARDIS and how had she welcomed him? With a spectacularly strong slap that had had his ears ringing for days.
'Course, turned out Donna had known all along how to save herself and if he'd waited ten seconds before wiping her mind, she would have told him and saved them both the trouble of what she referred to as "another Time Lord broodathon."
Donna broke him out of his reverie as she sauntered away. "I'm going for a cuppa. You want?"
"Gods yes, I'm incredibly thirsty." He pattered after her docilely, pondering her words until curiosity got the best of him. "Worse things like what, by the way?"
Donna shrugged a shoulder. "Dunno. Zombies, maybe. That'd be gross, you all zombiefied. Really, as long as you're not leaving decomposing bits of yourself around the TARDIS, I'm fine."
The Doctor pulled a disgusted face at the visual. "Yeah, I can see where that'd be unpleasant. The old girl isn't much fond of goo."
"Newsflash, Martianvamp: no girl is."
"Oooh, is that my new nickname? Bit of a mouthful, you ask me."
"I'm still working on it!" cried Donna defensively.
They reached the kitchen, and the Doctor settled on one of the mismatched chairs as she went about making a fresh pot.
"Don't get used to this," warned Donna with a beady eye as the Doctor enjoyed watching her putter around the kitchen. "You're still the designated tea-maker in this living arrangement -- I just thought you deserve a break due to the circumstances."
"'Preciate it," replied the Doctor, distracted as he tested the sharpness of one of his new fangs. "Donna, how scary do I look?" He made a sort of growly face at her, baring fangs.
She tilted her head, observing the somewhat sharper canines. "Well, I'd rank you somewhere between a teething puppy and mildly miffed ferret."
"Really?!" replied the Doctor, clearly crestfallen. "But they feel sharper!"
"Well, they are, but just not that noticeable. Maybe they get longer or sharper when you bite something?"
"Yeah, maybe," he mumbled, unconvinced as he shredded a napkin unhappily.
The shredded napkin was abandoned when Donna set a steaming cup in front of him. He waited politely until she seated herself across from him, then took a healthy mouthful.
And spewed it across the table.
Donna blinked at him in shock, tea dripping off her face. "What the hell?!"
"Tastes vile! By Rassilon's socks, what did you put in this?" The Doctor peered into the cup with disgust, though the brew smelled and looked fine.
"Tea, Spacepire! Just regular old tea from the regular old tin!" She wiped her face with a napkin, then took her own sip. "And it tastes same as always."
"I'M STILL WORKING ON IT!"
Deciding discretion was the better part of valor over that one, the Doctor took another experimental whiff of tea, then slowly raised the cup to his mouth. Donna sent him a death glare in warning, raising a sopping napkin. Sheepish, he lowered the cup and dipped a finger in the liquid instead, then brought the digit to his mouth.
"Ugh!" his face scrunched up as if he'd taken a bite of lemon, and then he was stealing Donna's napkin to try to rub his tongue clean. "What's wrong with this?!"
Donna rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair, arms crossed and smug superiority on her face. "You know you're an idiot, right?"
"So you tell me, on a regular basis -- which is mean, frankly, since all I ever do is tell you you're brilliant -- but, why, specifically, am I an idiot this time?"
"Because, you git, you're a vampire," Donna stressed the word "vampire" so that it sounded synonymous with "moron." "And apparently you're the unfortunate type that can't stomach any regular food or drink now."
The Doctor looked positively aghast. Of course he'd known this, in a kind of technical, offhand way, but to actually put it in practice?! "But it's tea! Tea is practically the life blood of Time Lords, Donna! What am I supposed to do without my tea?!"
"Well, I guess your life's blood is going to have to be, you know, blood. Because of you being a, have I mentioned, vampire?"
"Good point. And I'm so awfully, awfully thirsty," the Doctor said meaningfully.
The kitchen descended into silence, as Donna took her time in coming to the correct conclusion.
"Oi! You better not be eyeing my neck, you underfed blood-sucker!"
The Doctor, who was, after all, eyeing Donna's pale, freckled neck hungrily, didn't even make the effort to look up. "You said so yourself, Donna. Vamp, life's-blood, underfed."
"Yeah, but not MY blood! We'll stop over at a nice hospital and nick you some blood packets, why don't we."
"The thing is, Donna--"
"Oh god, I hate it when you start sentences with 'the thing is, Donna.' Because it's never a good thing...it's always a bad thing."
"Be that as it may, the thing is, Donna, that it's not the blood itself that matters. It's the life-force within the blood -- like a psychic feeding, more than one having to do with nutrients, if that helps -- and so it can only be taken from another live, sentient being."
"How do you even know this; as of thirty minutes ago you didn't even think they existed!" cried Donna, throwing up her hands in frustration.
"Who the hell is Henry!" More arm waving ensued.
"Oh, the nice chap who bit me! Felt awfully sorry; didn't know I wasn't local. Apologized profusely, even, for getting a bit carried away. Can't really blame him, you know, with me being the last of the Time Lords. I'm an extremely rare vintage! Probably taste delicious."
"And modest, too, which is the best part."
"Yes, and that," the Doctor continued on blithely, ignoring sarcasm he could all but swim in. "So we sat down for a chat and he explained the way things worked. About the blood, and life force, and how to not die -- fire, decapitation, stake through the heart -- you know, the usual -- hey! Hey, I have two hearts Donna! What are the odds someone will try to stake me through both hearts? About .00000387, is what they are. I was pretty hearty before, but I'm practically invincible now! Which is good, because I rather like this me. Good hair, and teeth, and oodles of charm. No, can't say I blame Henry for taking a bite..."
Donna slammed a hand down on the tabletop. "Your odds of getting staked through both hearts just went up to 70%, and they'll rise to 100 in a minute if you don't zip it."
He zipped it.
"Honestly, I was gone for 5 minutes. Okay, ten, tops, since I decided to change my shoes while I was in here. I don't understand how you managed to get attacked, turned, and have a lovely heart-to-heart with 'Henry' in that time. But whatever," murmured Donna, rising from her seat to begin a nervous pacing back and forth.
"So you need blood from a sentient being. That can't be super difficult to find, lookit all those crazy kids on the internet who love vampires. We just find one of those and make their little goth dreams come true."
The Doctor's face set into a stubborn pout. "I don't wanna."
"What do you mean 'you don't wanna'?! Thought you were thirsty."
"Yeah," mumbled the Doctor, avoiding her gaze by alternately dipping his fingers into his tea. "But I don't wanna bite them."
"Then what do you want?" Donna's tone was laced with exasperation. "Blonde shop girls? We can stroll down Oxford Street if you really fancy some peroxide-laced--"
"I want to bite you."
Donna stumbled to an ungraceful halt and whirled to stare at him, stupefied. "What?!"
"Ummm....I want to bite you?"
Donna's face contorted into several strange expressions before she settled on indignation. "Well you can't bite me!"
"Why not? Aren't you my best mate?"
"But you," she stammered, pointing a trembling finger at him, "...me..." the finger veered to point at her (delightfully heaving, the Doctor noticed) chest. "Well," spluttered Donna, "'cos no!"
"But I don't want to bite a stranger, Donna! It's just, well, it's plain rude, no way 'round that, and...and probably not terribly hygienic."
"Then let's go to Cardiff. I'm sure Jack won't mind a nibble."
The Doctor's face scrunched in disgust, imagining how unnatural the wrongness in Jack's blood would taste. "I'll pass."
"Bite Martha then!"
"Awww, c'mon Donna! It's not what I'm craving. It's like-- it's like -- here I am wanting steak and you're offering me tofu."
Donna's mouth opened and closed several times, caught between feeling foolishly flattered and grievously insulted, since he was pretty much comparing her to a cow. But beyond that....
"...Did you just call Martha tofu?"
"Please don't ever tell her I said that."
"She would kill you. And what's wrong with tofu, anyway?!"
"Nothing's wrong with tofu! Tofu is versatile and healthy, but not everyone wants to eat tofu, you understand."
"I really, really don't. Can we please stop talking about tofu? Leave it to you to become a picky eater once your turn vamp. Used to stick everything else in your mouth," bemoaned Donna, taking a calming sip of her own tea.
"Well, excuse me if I thought my best mate would understand that I don't want to go around sucking just anyone," he claimed with injured dignity.
Donna spluttered, and he reviewed what he'd said, then flushed red at the implication. "Not like-- that's not what -- you know what I mean! This isn't easy for me, you know! No more tea, no more bananas, and even my companion can't stand to help out this once because I'm this ...this thing now."
The Doctor trailed off, dejected. A few beats of silence passed as the Doctor flicked tea around the table despondently, and Donna tried and failed not to feel sorry for him.
Donna sighed gustily. "Fine," she gave in with ill humor.
The Doctor's sad face cleared instantly, wide grin spreading across his face, and Donna suspected she'd just been played. He jumped to his feet and bounded over to her.
Donna backed up, hands held up to ward him off. "Wait! Wait! Got a few questions, first!"
The Doctor looked a bit nervous for a second, but smiled engagingly at her. "Sure! Perfectly reasonable. Shoot."
"Does it hurt?"
"No. Well, didn't hurt me any. Barely even felt what Henry was doing. But, for honesty's sake, I should point out I am a Time Lord, and superior in every way, so I can't promise you might not feel a ...pinch...a little one," he conceded.
Donna heroically ignored the need to throw something at him. "Okay. And you aren't going to take too much? I'm not going to be bleeding all over the place, am I? 'Cos I donated blood once, you understand, and I was all woozy and weak for hours, no matter how much juice and cookies they offered me."
"Just a few quick sips, I promise. Remember, it's the life force in the blood, not the actual blood itself."
Donna examined the Doctor's wide, guileless eyes once more -- no doubt looking for any hidden evil 'I really mean to kill you' thoughts -- and seemed satisfied at the lack of homicidal intent. "Okay then," she said cautiously.
The Doctor bounded over again.
Hands went up again, fingers wide. "Wait!"
Donna turned quickly, rooted through a kitchen drawer, then turned triumphantly with a wooden mixing spoon clenched in her hand. "Okay, now I'm ready!"
The Doctor eyed the spoon curiously. "And what's that for?"
"I thought I'd bake a cake. What do you think it's for, you muppet?! You get carried away, I can take out one of your hearts with this," she said, waving the spoon threateningly.
"At the very least you'll be able to drive me back with the threat of splinters, I'm sure."
Donna grumbled at him, but stayed still as he advanced on her for the last time.
And then he was hovering over her, moving the heavy mass of red hair aside to bare the side of her neck. His other hand went to her hip, steadying her as he leaned in. He stood there, breathing in the warm, sweet scent of her, watching her pulse flutter under her skin. His own breath washed over her as he exhaled, leaning closer. He paused again, eyes closing as he reveled in the slow, sure beat of her heart.
"GET ON WITH IT, THEN!" thundered Donna.
He reared back, moment broken. "It's my first time, here, Donna! Kind of have to feel my way around how to go about being a vampire! A little understanding would go a long way," he whined.
She wriggled under his hold. "Meanwhile, the waiting is giving me the willies! I'm nervous enough without you drawing out the part where you bite into my neck and take my life force, thank you!"
"All right, I think we're both a little on edge here. Why don't we go somewhere more relaxing," he offered, stepping back and holding out his hand.
Donna took a deep, calming breath and latched on to his hand. "Yeah. Maybe that will help." But she didn't let go of the spoon.
He led them out of the kitchen, down the hall and into his bedroom, across from her own. She looked around curiously, noting the unmade bed and the gadgetry that littered the floor.
"Why in here?" she asked. How was being in his bedroom supposed to make things less awkward?
He shrugged. "In case you feel woozy," he offered, pointing vaguely toward the bed and avoiding her eyes.
She narrowed her own gaze and gripped the spoon more firmly. "You promised just a little blood!"
"I'm merely being careful!" defended the Doctor, then escaped further questioning by slinking into the adjoining bathroom. He returned with a neatly-folded towel and a single plaster printed with blue and white Adipose babies.
Donna opened her mouth to question this further, but he beat her to it. "Only making sure I don't stain your shirt if I dribble."
Donna shut her mouth. He was a messy eater the best of times, she conceded.
He set the towel and plaster on the edge of the bed by where she stood. They were back to him looking bashful and she staring mistrustfully, until Donna got tired of worrying and double-guessing. He'd said it wouldn't hurt and that he wouldn't take too much, and he'd never harm her wittingly so they might as well get to it.
She moved her hair aside and pulled the edge of her blouse down to her shoulder. "Let's get this over with," she muttered.
The Doctor gulped, but shuffled closer and went back to hovering and breathing all over her. "If you go overboard and end up draining me I will haunt you mercilessly," she hissed at him, unable to help herself even after her little internal 'you trust him' pep-talk.
"Understood," replied the Doctor, lips almost against her neck, and she shivered involuntarily. His arms slid around her, one hand around her waist, the other pushing her in closer with gentle pressure on the middle of her back. Then there was a moment of wetness as he licked her, the cheeky bugger, as if she were his own personal chew toy--
And he bit her.
And it hurt, the little lying tart! But okay, more of a pinch, like he said, than an actual bite as the fangs slid in. All in all not as horrible as she'd feared and...
Oh. Oh my god what was that?!
It felt like his mouth was no longer on her neck, but on more private places, much further down her body. And yet she knew it wasn't since she could still feel the length of his skinny body pressed against her, thigh to neck, and his hands digging into her waist and back, so obviously he hadn't slithered down to use his tongue on her the way her body kept insisting he was...Laving and suckling at her breasts, or down between her thighs, or all places at once.
Her knees buckled, boneless, pleasure simmering through her, neck to groin. He took the weight of her, bearing her down on the bed, one hand moving to tangle in her hair and support her head, his mouth still attached to her neck where he made greedy, moist noises as he swallowed. His body sank onto her, heavier than she thought he'd be, as still he drank and drank...
How much had he taken? Was it too much? Where was her spoon?
Even as the worry flittered on the edges of her thoughts, she was bucking under him as waves of white-hot bliss built in her. They were moving against each other, sinuously, so maybe he felt it too. She didn't know, but she wrapped her legs around his thighs anyway to afford her more friction where she wanted it. Another bolt of ecstasy, spearing through her, and she was unraveling and crying out, hands clenching on the back of his jacket. He was shouting out, too, tearing his mouth away from her neck finally, and pressing his forehead against her shoulder, and why hadn't he told her it would feel like that?
Because if it did, every time, she was going to make sure he was the best-fed vamp in the entire universe. Three square meals a day, with snacks in between even!
After a long moment of drifting in the afterglow, she forced her eyes open. Everything was blurry and soft, but a few determined blinks had her sight clearing and she was digging her fingers into the Doctor's thick hair so she could drag him away from her shoulder. At her insistent tugging he lifted his face and met her eyes; he looked, she marked, sated and guilty and nervous and not a teeny bit sorry.
"What the hell was that?!" she gasped, lungs still laboring. "How much did you take?"
"That felt like more than a little and," she demanded again, "you didn't say anything about it feeling like--"
"You said it 'didn't hurt' but you should have told me it felt like --- AAARRRGH!"
She arched against him suddenly, back taut as a bow as what felt like lightning seared through her. She screamed again, half fright, half pain, as she felt tendrils of electricity swim through her, each nerve ending firing at the same time. She howled, twisting under the Doctor's weight.
Her eyes, wide and panicked, sought out the Doctor. He was levered over her, holding her down. His eyes were on her, anguished, yet grimly determined.
"Donna -- I'm sorry," he whispered.
No, thought Donna. No, you're really not.