Ficlet: Bubble Bath Ethics
Sep. 19th, 2008 08:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bagheera_sanTitle: Bubble Bath Ethics
Rating: tame
Pairing: Two/War Chief
Prompt: # 18 Candlelight Bath
Note: Set in a sort of Season 6B setting with the Doctor and War Chief!Master sharing a TARDIS and working for the Time Lords.
Summary:
The Doctor hummed to himself as he made his way to his favourite bathroom. His hum was determined to be cheerful, even though he didn't feel much like it yet. But a good long bath would change that. Not even the Time Lords could interfere with the joy of apple-scented bubbles and a yellow rubber ducky. The rubber ducky was peeking out of one of the roomy pockets of his coat, and the bubbles would soon fill the bathtub. By day he might be running errands for his people, but by night, the Doctor had decided, he was still be a free man, and he would make use of his right to take bubble baths.
He opened the bathroom door – and froze. The humming turned into a cough as the Doctor prepared to back out of the bathroom and leave whoever it was to their romantic candlelight bath. Who could it be? Not Jamie, certainly, and Zoe was far too pragmatic…
"Oh my word," the Doctor said, and coughed again, this time to hide his amusement.
In the bathtub, amid the velvety twilight of dozens of lit candles, sat the War Chief. He was sprawling in the roomy, luxurious tub, arms resting on the rim, wearing nothing but his necklace, suds of soap slowly sliding down his bare chest - obviously, the War Chief had forced himself into this pose of arrogant relaxation only seconds before. He stared at the Doctor in a way that was probably supposed to look unflappable. It would have worked, except that the Doctor had caught the War Chief doing embarrassing things before, back when he had still gone by Koschei. He knew the difference between panicked smoothness and the real deal. The memories made him chuckle, which he covered with another cough.
"Will you close the door, please?" the War Chief asked. "There's a draft."
There wasn't a draft. The candle flames were perfectly still. The Doctor closed the door, realising a moment too late that he had closed it behind himself and was now standing in the bathroom. He grinned. "Ah. Ha. That could have been embarrassing," he said with a wink. "For a moment there I thought it might be Jamie, or Zoe –"
Truth to be told, Jamie or Zoe (or Jamie and Zoe) would probably have been less mortified (and far more welcoming) than the War Chief in his romantic candlelight bath for one.
"Very sensible of you, taking a bath after a long hard day," the Doctor went on. "Just my idea."
"There are other bathrooms on your TARDIS, surely?"
"Oh, yes." The Doctor clapped his hands. "But you've found my favourite!"
The War Chief smirked. It was almost believable. "Are you going to join me, Doctor?"
The Doctor shrugged off his coat and started unbuttoning his shirt. "Well, of course! There's room enough for two." He paused, his grin dropping for a moment as he undid his cuffs. The cheer got away from him like an elusive button slipping out of his grasp. "We're practically sharing the same prison cell as it is," the Doctor muttered to himself. "We should count ourselves lucky that we can choose to share a bath or not."
The War Chief sat frowning among the candles. "Your logic is… not very sound."
Having finally undone the button, the Doctor tossed the shirt to the floor, ignoring the orderly piles of clothes the War Chief had placed on the counter: the used clothes were folded as neatly as the fresh ones. "Logic, bah! It's a matter of choice, don't you see? At least in this matter we're our own masters. They can't yet force us not to enjoy ourselves once in a while."
The War Chief cupped his fingers over the flame of a candle, testing its heat, toying with the danger of a burn. He was watching the Doctor, and while he still retained the same pose of relaxation, his demeanour was now genuine. The Doctor's words had somehow given him back his natural confidence. His tone was smooth as he tasted the words. "Our own masters…"
The Doctor struggled with his shoes, hopping on one foot for a moment before he had pulled them both off, and then made short work of his socks, trousers and underwear. Finally, he bent over his coat and picked up the rubber ducky. He tapped it against his temple.
"They haven't got up here yet," he smiled. "Now! Make room – yes, that's it."
The War Chief drew his legs up against his chest as the Doctor clambered into the bathtub. They ended up just barely avoiding body contact, with the yellow rubber ducky bobbing on the water between their knees. The Doctor dunked his head under water, glad that he was younger and more flexible in this body than he had been in a good long while and came up again, shaking his wet hair like a dog. When he wiped the soap out of his eyes and glanced at the War Chief, the other Time Lord quickly put down the rubber ducky, which he had been examining with a puzzled look.
"So," the War Chief asked, "we're sharing a bath to rebel against the Time Lords?"
The Doctor leaned back, grinned, and under the water nudged the War Chief's foot with his toes. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm doing it because I want to and I can."
After a moment, the War Chief's gaze grew hooded, and his smirk a tad more intent. It dawned on the Doctor that perhaps, he was giving the War Chief dangerous ideas. This kind of moral imperative was all good and fine as long as all you wanted was a bubble bath, but he suspected that the War Chief's ambitions ran a bit further.
Well, if there was one thing the Doctor was good at, it was the fine art of distraction.
"Say," he began, and with a wicked smile ran his fingertips up the War Chief's shin, "are you ticklish in this regeneration?"
Rating: tame
Pairing: Two/War Chief
Prompt: # 18 Candlelight Bath
Note: Set in a sort of Season 6B setting with the Doctor and War Chief!Master sharing a TARDIS and working for the Time Lords.
Summary:
The Doctor hummed to himself as he made his way to his favourite bathroom. His hum was determined to be cheerful, even though he didn't feel much like it yet. But a good long bath would change that. Not even the Time Lords could interfere with the joy of apple-scented bubbles and a yellow rubber ducky. The rubber ducky was peeking out of one of the roomy pockets of his coat, and the bubbles would soon fill the bathtub. By day he might be running errands for his people, but by night, the Doctor had decided, he was still be a free man, and he would make use of his right to take bubble baths.
He opened the bathroom door – and froze. The humming turned into a cough as the Doctor prepared to back out of the bathroom and leave whoever it was to their romantic candlelight bath. Who could it be? Not Jamie, certainly, and Zoe was far too pragmatic…
"Oh my word," the Doctor said, and coughed again, this time to hide his amusement.
In the bathtub, amid the velvety twilight of dozens of lit candles, sat the War Chief. He was sprawling in the roomy, luxurious tub, arms resting on the rim, wearing nothing but his necklace, suds of soap slowly sliding down his bare chest - obviously, the War Chief had forced himself into this pose of arrogant relaxation only seconds before. He stared at the Doctor in a way that was probably supposed to look unflappable. It would have worked, except that the Doctor had caught the War Chief doing embarrassing things before, back when he had still gone by Koschei. He knew the difference between panicked smoothness and the real deal. The memories made him chuckle, which he covered with another cough.
"Will you close the door, please?" the War Chief asked. "There's a draft."
There wasn't a draft. The candle flames were perfectly still. The Doctor closed the door, realising a moment too late that he had closed it behind himself and was now standing in the bathroom. He grinned. "Ah. Ha. That could have been embarrassing," he said with a wink. "For a moment there I thought it might be Jamie, or Zoe –"
Truth to be told, Jamie or Zoe (or Jamie and Zoe) would probably have been less mortified (and far more welcoming) than the War Chief in his romantic candlelight bath for one.
"Very sensible of you, taking a bath after a long hard day," the Doctor went on. "Just my idea."
"There are other bathrooms on your TARDIS, surely?"
"Oh, yes." The Doctor clapped his hands. "But you've found my favourite!"
The War Chief smirked. It was almost believable. "Are you going to join me, Doctor?"
The Doctor shrugged off his coat and started unbuttoning his shirt. "Well, of course! There's room enough for two." He paused, his grin dropping for a moment as he undid his cuffs. The cheer got away from him like an elusive button slipping out of his grasp. "We're practically sharing the same prison cell as it is," the Doctor muttered to himself. "We should count ourselves lucky that we can choose to share a bath or not."
The War Chief sat frowning among the candles. "Your logic is… not very sound."
Having finally undone the button, the Doctor tossed the shirt to the floor, ignoring the orderly piles of clothes the War Chief had placed on the counter: the used clothes were folded as neatly as the fresh ones. "Logic, bah! It's a matter of choice, don't you see? At least in this matter we're our own masters. They can't yet force us not to enjoy ourselves once in a while."
The War Chief cupped his fingers over the flame of a candle, testing its heat, toying with the danger of a burn. He was watching the Doctor, and while he still retained the same pose of relaxation, his demeanour was now genuine. The Doctor's words had somehow given him back his natural confidence. His tone was smooth as he tasted the words. "Our own masters…"
The Doctor struggled with his shoes, hopping on one foot for a moment before he had pulled them both off, and then made short work of his socks, trousers and underwear. Finally, he bent over his coat and picked up the rubber ducky. He tapped it against his temple.
"They haven't got up here yet," he smiled. "Now! Make room – yes, that's it."
The War Chief drew his legs up against his chest as the Doctor clambered into the bathtub. They ended up just barely avoiding body contact, with the yellow rubber ducky bobbing on the water between their knees. The Doctor dunked his head under water, glad that he was younger and more flexible in this body than he had been in a good long while and came up again, shaking his wet hair like a dog. When he wiped the soap out of his eyes and glanced at the War Chief, the other Time Lord quickly put down the rubber ducky, which he had been examining with a puzzled look.
"So," the War Chief asked, "we're sharing a bath to rebel against the Time Lords?"
The Doctor leaned back, grinned, and under the water nudged the War Chief's foot with his toes. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm doing it because I want to and I can."
After a moment, the War Chief's gaze grew hooded, and his smirk a tad more intent. It dawned on the Doctor that perhaps, he was giving the War Chief dangerous ideas. This kind of moral imperative was all good and fine as long as all you wanted was a bubble bath, but he suspected that the War Chief's ambitions ran a bit further.
Well, if there was one thing the Doctor was good at, it was the fine art of distraction.
"Say," he began, and with a wicked smile ran his fingertips up the War Chief's shin, "are you ticklish in this regeneration?"
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Date: 2008-09-19 07:13 pm (UTC)GOD DAMN IT. I WANT TO MAKE PICS OF THIS SO HARD.
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Date: 2008-09-19 07:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-19 08:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-19 08:19 pm (UTC)