Bedroom Hymns (Fitz)

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2005. It was a tediously uneventful year. She'd grown so bored with saving this planet from itself, that she finally just took a step back and let Earth sort itself out. Besides, some other time lord seemed to have taking a liking to the little planet and it's inhabitants. It was just as well. She was becoming annoyed with losing her regenerations trying to save them. So, now she was here, working as a dancer and bar tender in a seedy little pub tucked away in the darker parts of London.

She made idle conversation with the few men that tried to make passes at her, asking for her cell number, asking when she got off work, if she was single, and other such nonsense that she only half listened to anymore. She'd begun to use the loud music as her savior, pretending she couldn’t hear them over the noise. One customer, who was unfortunately a regular, gripped her arm tightly insisting that he could make her the happiest woman alive if she'd come home with him. Normally she didn’t take such drastic measures, but he had put his hands on her without her permission and that was something she didn’t tolerate. That and he was gripping so tightly, he was leaving a bruise. And given that she was a resilient Time Lady, that was saying something.

She was about to get off work and really didn’t feel like dealing with the man and she reached for the nearest thing she could find under the bar. It happened to be a full, heavy, and very expensive bottle of rare Bourbon. She swung it hard against the man's head, shattering it and, most likely breaking the man's jaw. He fell back and was sprawled out on the bar floor, out cold. A few other patrons moved away from the two of them, not wanting to get caught in the cross fire. Taryn motioned her hand to get the bouncer's attention to drag the man outside. As the man picked limp one up, Taryn sighed. She looked at the broken bottle in her hand knew that she'd have to work over time to make up for the lost alcohol. That was a 400 quid bottle of bourbon.

The idea of spending another few hours with a bunch of belligerent drunks made her stomach turn. Until she noticed a rather thin man at the end of the bar. She could see it on him like a strange ripple of colors. Vortex Radiation. And while he seemed to be trying to fit in, he seemed a bit out of his element. He certainly was no Time Lord, perhaps a misplaced companion? Well, that was enough to get her curious. Besides that, his had a rather adorable, all be it, cheesy smile. She walked over to that side of the bar as he came to take a seat and she smirked, her piercing blue eyes locking with his “What's your poison, love?”

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It’d been forty-two years since he’d set foot in Molly’s. Of course, to Fitz it had only been a year since he’d been whisked away with the Doctor and Sam. Fitz looked around the pub – it had been updated and modernized, but he could still recognize it. It was hard to believe that if he had never met the Doctor, then he’d be in his late sixties. Almost seventy.

He reminded himself to thank the Doctor later.

Well, if he saw the Doctor later. He prided himself on being resourceful and not at all like a ‘damsel in distress’, but after a month of being abandoned forgotten outside of a convenience store, his hope was wearing a little thin. The bird that he had run into weeks earlier had given him a bit of starting cash, and Fitz spent his days working little menial tasks while returning to the little hovelesque motel room at night. And those menial tasks were most of the time boring and mundane and absolutely emasculating… like a dog sitter.

Fitz Kreiner – Mighty Wanderer And Defender Of The Universe… a dog sitter.

It was a bit degrading, and it didn’t do wonders for his manhood. So he decided to hop on over to Molly’s – Molly herself was probably long dead, or in a retirement home stuffed with IVs. Still, the pub looked like it was thriving. They didn’t seem to be employing live music anymore, or, at least, the stage was unused, and the sound was playing through the speakers they’d installed through it. He was a bit disappointed there wasn’t a chance to take up his guitar and relive his days as Fitz Fortune, but he suspected that music tastes had changed.

Large gray eyes moved from the stage to one of the tenders. She was cute enough, and by the looks of all the drunkards coming on to her, he wasn’t the only one that thought so. He looked down at his plastic cup of water regretfully. Fitz felt like he was betraying the Doctor just by being there. He’d told the Doctor he’d cut back on his drinking and, for the most part, Fitz had. Mainly because there wasn’t an abundance of alcohol onboard the TARDIS, but that was neither here nor there. Regardless of whether it was for want of trying, Fitz had cut back on his drinking.

A sharp crack got his attention, and he looked up in time to see the bar tender slamming a bottle in some bloke’s head. His eyes widened, and he was reminded of the creep that had tried to get in Sam’s pants when he’d taken her to Molly’s. Fitz grinned. He loved a girl that had some bite to her. What was the fun of damsel in distresses? Sure, he liked having women depend on him as much as the next guy, but dolls weren’t much fun.

He stared down at the water in his hands again, shutting his eyes and trying to turn it into wine. Or straight liquor, he really wasn’t picky. Fitz opened an eye hopefully, but it seemed the celestial powers had skipped a few generations in his family. He threw the plastic cup in the bin and walked over to the bar. He felt eyes on him, and he looked up. The bar tender from before – the one who had decided to crack some guy’s skull open with some bourbon – was staring at him. He smiled widely at her.

Normally at this part, the woman would make some sort of face at him – he didn’t know how to describe the face besides the ‘Rejection’ face – and turn away, and Fitz would return to whatever he was doing. Instead, the woman walked over to him.

“What’s your poison, love?”

Oh yeah, it was kind of her job to talk to him. Fitz debated on his selection of corny pick-up lines, on how many ways he could woo the poor hapless woman off her feet. Instead he met her eyes and made a ‘psht’ noise. “After the month I’ve had, you could give me rubbing alcohol and I’d down it gladly,” he said blandly. “Surprise me… ‘love,’” he returned.

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She eyed him curiously as he seemed to ponder his options. “After the month I’ve had, you could give me rubbing alcohol and I’d down it gladly,” he said blandly. “Surprise me… ‘love,’” he returned. She smirked as she set a shot glass upon the bar top.”Rough month? Tsk tsk, I'll have to remedy that, now wont I?” it was more an offer than a question, a coy wink in those clear blue eye. She drew away her eye contact just long enough to poke around under the counter. Poor man sounded like he needed something the equivalent to a kick in the teeth to liven up his night. And she had just the thing.

She got an exotic bottle of Greek Ouzo. She set out a second shot glass and poured for the both of them. At first sniff, the drink seemed like is would taste like aniseed sweets, but that’s where the similarities end. After the initial sip, the aftertaste hits like a china plate in the head. Taryn was used to it, however. Working here for as long as she had, she'd built up a resistance to Alcohol. Oh she was still capable of getting smashed, but it took a great deal more than normal. Well.. Normal for a Time Lord, anyway.

But that didn’t mean that the after kick wasn't enough to make her shake her head. Her eyes met with his again and that's when she noticed. He had the most stunning steely gray eyes she'd ever seen. She smirked at him and left the bottle in front of him. “Let me know what you start seeing two of everything.” She puckered her lips and flew a flirtatious kiss to him before walking away to tend to a few other patrons in the bar. Someone with even half a brain and mediocre observation skills would notice that every so often, Taryn was glancing back at him. But it was hard to tell if she was just being a good bar keep and checking on him, or if she was flirting with him from across the room. Perhaps both?

Taryn was obviously sweating, as she used her sleeve to dab at her brow. With so many people in here tonight, the air flow was stifling. She untucked the white dress shirt and unbuttoned the bottom portion of the short so she could roll up the shirt and tie it into a neat bow just under her breast line and began rolling up her sleeves. At the other end of the bar, there came the sound of breaking glass and one of the waitresses letting out a shriek. Taryn did nothing at first as she looked over at one of the bouncers. She was tired of saving people. She'd sworn it off. Every time she played the hero, she regenerated. But the bouncer was apparently caught up in trying to get a rowdy drunk to leave. Taryn groaned with a roll of her eyes and placed her hands on the bar and hopped up. She swung her legs over, trying to not kick the man with the gray eyes in the head.

She had a wet patch on her bum now, since quite a few drinks have been spilled on the bar top. She marched over to see what the heck was going on. Turned out a rather feisty drunk was trying to get one of the waitresses to sit in his lap. She, in not the most polite terms, told him to shove off and went to lead the upset waitress away. Taryn jumped when the man then wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to him. The man was more like a gorilla, and it wasn't that he was overweight, just muscle-bound and massive. Taryn looked over to where the Bouncer was supposed to be on duty, but he was nowhere to be found.

She hated it when people touched her with out asking. She gritted her teeth and snatched an empty beer bottle off the table and slammed it on the edge of the table to use it as a jagged edged weapon and held it under the man's chin. “You can take your hands off me, You knuckle dragging neanderthal.” But the man seemed undaunted. Either he was too drunk to realize he was being threatened, or he didn’t see Taryn was a threat. He grabbed her hand and wrenched the bottle from her hand and pulled her in for a kiss.

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Fitz’s mouth twitched into a smile. “You must,” he responded, watching as she rummaged through the counters for something. He moved his gaze to the rest of the bar. It was hard to think about how radically different his life was now. He’d only been gone for maybe a year, and yet he felt different. Molly’s had been his second home. The people there liked him, and Fitz liked knowing that he could make something with himself, if only he’d stuck with it. But it didn’t concern him; he loved being on the TARDIS. Maybe he didn’t love being the third wheel to Sam and the Doctor, but he could forget about that.

He squinted at the bottle’s name. He couldn’t quite make out the name of it before she’d pushed a glass – and the bottle – towards him. Fitz looked up at her. She was staring rather intently into his eyes, so he looked back down. The Doctor told him once that he’d liked Fitz’s eyes – only after Fitz had commented on the Doctor’s own, but a compliment was a compliment. And a compliment from the Doctor meant more than usual. “Let me know when you start seeing two of everything,”[/b][/i] she said, puckering her lips at him and blowing a kiss to him. He raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his drink.

If there was anything that had been hammered into Fitz’s skull ever since joining the Doctor and Sam, it was to know when you were being watched. Thankfully, Fitz had had enough practice at knowing when people were watching him. He’d grown up in a rough side of London with people that hated him. Not that his entire childhood was spent running around and trying to dodge bullies… just the vast majority of it. Or he was barricaded in his room and reading, but Fitz wouldn’t admit to that much. The point was that Fitz knew when he was being watched.

Most of the time, although the Doctor and Sam would disagree with him after the incidents on Vega…

He looked up and met the woman’s eye again. He wasn’t a stranger to being flirted with, and he certainly wasn’t shy of flirting. Still, he’d never had such a beautiful continuously stare at him. He shrugged to himself and figured he probably had something on his nose. It was his luck, anyway. He downed the rest of the drink and poured some more from the bottle she’d left with him. Who cared how much it costed anyway? If anything he could just escape through a bathroom. He knew the layout of this place like a mariner knew the Mediterranean.

Fitz had just about finished the second glass when he heard someone wolf whistling. He lowered his glass and, giving a slight wince at the burning aftertaste of the drink – Ouzo, the bottle stated –, looked up. The tender from before was hiking up her shirt and tying it under her bust. Fitz let a smile curl on his lips, and he was grateful Sam wasn’t there. She’d slap him on the head and give him some shbiel about women’s rights and feminism, and men should really stop sexualizing them. Fitz figured he would when women stopped being sexy. But as for the moment, he took another gulp of the alcohol and watched the woman.

Another glass broke to his left, and Fitz looked curiously. At the rate it was going, Molly’s – or whatever they called the pub now, he hadn’t bothered to look at the name before entering – was going to certainly run out of liquor. First the tender had slammed a glass against some bloke’s head, and now another waitress had broken a bottle. The woman sighed heavily and jumped on the bar. Fitz moved out of her way as she swung her legs over the bar. Her legs barely missed him, but Fitz had the reflexes like a cat in its prime. (Or, rather, he had flailed ungracefully and luckily missed her foot arching towards him).

It reminded him of Chubby – the man that had tried to take Sam, before Fitz had rescued her. That idiot of a man was the reason the Doctor had offered him a place on the TARDIS; Fitz had been the prime suspect in his murder.

He watched as the man pulled the tender onto his lap. Fitz gritted his teeth, but remained in place. The woman handled the other drunkard quite well, and he knew that not all women wanted or needed someone to help them out. Sam tried to deny that she needed help – because she was a vegetarian and she ran three kilometers a day and she knew how to fight – but despite all that, she had a knack for getting herself in trouble. And the Doctor would always rescue her. He looked up at the pair as the woman broke an empty bottle and held a jagged piece to the man’s throat.

Fitz stood to his feet and realized how drunk he was as he stumbled slightly. He pushed a hand against the man’s mouth, preventing their kiss. He pushed the woman out of the man’s grasp – perhaps a bit too harshly, but Fitz had been expecting more of a fight from the man’s grasp. The drunkard must have loosened his grip on the tender when Fitz interfered.

“Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?” Fitz asked, tilting his head innocently. “Or was she too busy on the streets?”[/size]

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As the drunk pulled her in, she opened her mouth, getting her teeth ready. She wasn't quite strong enough to wrestle out of his grasp, but you can sure bet she was going to making him regret pissing her off, She planned to bite his bottom lip off and spit it in his face. But as luck would have it, her little grey eyed angel came to the rescue.

The man had her firmly gripped by the collar of her work shirt, which was mostly unbuttoned and loosely tied around her middle. When the twig of a man pushed her away from the over sized grunt, yes she easily moved away. Her shirt didn't.

She fell back against another table, knocking over a few of the patron's drinks as she was laid out on another table.. One of the guys, a regular helped her up. "Hey, Taryn, you need some help?" Taryn just smiled at the mans help. One of the very few customers she liked. He was a good guy.. Wife, four kids he was very proud of, and a successful business man who popped in for drinks with colleagues every weekend. "If you could see where Hank is, that'd be lovely." Hank, of course, was the bouncer that seemed to be missing.

When she went to go back over to the table with the drunk brute and her grey eyed savior, she paused and couldn't help but laugh at his remark about the man's mother. But the man only scowled at the smaller one and balled up a fist, clutching the front of his shirt. Taryn's eyes went wide. The last time, he'd been in a bar fight, the brute had shattered another man's skull and sent one of the other bouncer's to the hospital. Hank wouldn't be back in time and this twig of a man, brave and chivalrous as he seemed at the moment, would probably die instantly if this man hit him.

Immediatly her hands were on the brute's temples and she shut her eyes. "You dont want to do that, do you? Dont you have somewhere to be?" The man's eyes seemed to glaze over and he mumble "I.. I'm late, I should go".. And he got to his feet, collected his things, and went to exit the bar, looking slightly confused. Once he was gone, Taryn leaned heavily over the table, looking quite shaken, her hand over her mouth and nose as though she looked as though she was going to be ill.

After a moment, she looked up at him, uncovering her mouth and smiled. "So what's your name, 'Bright Eyes'?" She seemed completely undaunted that she was wearing a black lace bra and a mini skirt in the middle of a bar.

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Fitz looked down in the man’s hand, noticing the white fabric in it. His eyebrow twitched as he pondered briefly over the conundrum. Had he been holding a shirt before? No, he had been holding the little bird with a propensity of violence. Gray eyes moved towards the woman, and his suspicions were confirmed. There she stood – or, well, laid on the table – with her bra shown to the world. He averted his eyes, a healthy flush of color on his cheeks. “Hey, Taryn, you need some help?”[/i] one of the men asked. The bird looked up at the name.

Taryn, huh? Well then. He held himself up and, complete with the pugnacious glint in his eye and a dimpled smirk on his lips, decided to take action into his own hands. Action, of course, consisted of insulting the man’s mother. He was most definitely not a fighter – when the aliens had broken into the institution his mother had been in with guns he hadn’t even tried to put up a fight. He’d turned and hightailed it to the nearest hiding spot. And when he’d been mistaken for an assassin on Vega, he’d barely gotten away from the crazy monster thing.

And that hadn’t been by fighting. That’d been by running. When had he first fought? When he thought the Doctor had been hurt by the little kid who played with time?

His musings were broken off rather rudely as his shirt was grabbed. He stumbled forwards, staring up at the larger man. Well. He was royally fucked in about two hundred and sixteen ways, and none of them pleasant. The first scenario was death by nasty alcoholic breath, and he wondered, nauseated, if this is what the Doctor smelled on him. “Buddy, you’ve got breath that would make a dragon blush,” Fitz declared. “There isn’t enough mouthwash in the world for you.”

All right, so he was probably going to die any moment now. The Mighty Fitz Kreiner – struck down in a barfight. The bigger man curled up his fist and Fitz huffed. Just as Fitz was preparing to join his mother in whatever eternal damnation was destined for him, hands blocked his view of his future-murderer. He blinked, hearing the soft voice of Taryn. The man let him go, and Fitz brushed himself off, watching as he walked from the door, looking about as composed a sleep-deprived zombie.

“And don’t mess with me again, mate!” Fitz said, trying to appear nonchalant that he’d just nearly had his skull bashed into a thousand withering pieces. He looked over the woman that had whispered something to him. She looked like she was going to be sick, and Fitz took a few steps back just in case. But she recovered and looked up at him, all smiles and slightly cocky attitude as she stood in the bar in a skirt and her bra.

“So what’s your name, Bright Eyes?”

Bright Eyes? Fitz raised an eyebrow at her. “Fitz,” he responded. He picked up the shirt the man had dropped on the floor and handed it to her.[/size]

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Taryn just smirked at him as she accepted the shirt and slipped it back on.. Unfortunately most of the buttons had been ripped off and she only was able to button up two of them. When Fitz offered his name, she went silent. She couldn’t put her name on it but she knew that name. It wasn't a common name. She'd heard of Fritz and she knew quite a few of them. But Fitz? “Fitz? I.. I know that name.. Fitz.. Fitz Fitz Fitz.. Where have I heard that before? I know that name, I swear I do!” She finally shrugged after rambling for a moment. It would probably come to her later.

“Well, Fitz.” She smirked at him as she cleaned up the table the man had been sitting at, picking up one of the chairs. “That was a rather chivalrous thing you did. I really appreciate it. I owe you one, handsome.” After a moment, the patron returned with missing bouncer. Taryn only rolled her eyes, not bothering to look at him “Oh, That's nice, Could have used your help ten minutes ago before that creep had his hands all over me. And poor Claudia! I wouldn't blame her if she quit after what nearly happened!” The bouncer reached out his hand to place it on her shoulder as he tried to sort through an appology, but Taryn moved away from his hand. Not in a repulsed kind of way, more to the fact that she really didn't want to be touched. “Gosh, I'm really sorry. The guy who's head you smashed, I had to call an ambulance. I think you broke his skull.”

Taryn sighed and shook her head. Sure, she meant to knock the jerk out, but.. Not hurt him THAT severely. But her reply seemed a bit cold. “I'll send him flowers later” Within a few moments, a voice cheerfully chirped over the bar intercom “Okay ladies and Gents! If you'll turn your attention to the stage! We have a special treat tonight!!” Taryn flinched as she realized what time it was. “It's time for our girls to strut their stuff! Welcome to Talent night!” On Saturdays, right at midnight on the dot, this particular pub had a little ritual as a way to earn a little extra money before closing. Talent night. Taryn always tried to make a point to leave before midnight because it was mandatory for employees to participate if they were on the clock. She looked over to the bar to see her boss looking directly at her with the broken bottle of bourbon in his hand. Taryn made a groan and looked over at Fitz. “Ugh.. Talent night.. Would... You mind.... you.. doing me a favor? Just.. have a seat.. right there at the front of the stage for me?” She pointed to one of the empty chairs. If she was going to humiliate herself, she might as well strut around for someone she actually thought was a bit of a looker.

“And it looks like we have a rare treat!” The voice on the intercom mused. “Our lovely Taryn is here tonight!” Taryn slapped her palm to her face with a groan as the men in the bar went into a slight uproar. She'd managed to duck out of talent night for the last four months. She could always quit and leave the bar, but she was rather fond of the job despite the occasional slime bag trying to take her home as a trophy. She made her way up to the stage and grabbed one of the hands-free mics and clipped it onto her ear with a sigh. The background music slowly went quiet as a sudden and heavy beat suddenly thrummed over the speakers. The lights went dark save for the soft blue glow of the stage lights. Taryn did NOT look pleased, until she locked eyes with Fitz. She might as well get this over with.

“This is as good a place to fall as any
We'll build our altar here
Make me your Maria
I'm already on my knees”

Her voice was low, deep and sensual, almost a moan when she sang. Her hands trailed from her knees up her thighs and rested at her hips as she walked towards the end of the stage. As she began the next bit of the song, she was on her hands and knee seductively crawling towards Fitz, and her fingers lightly touched his face, trailed down to his lips. The moment her skin touched his, His most immediate thoughts were in her mind. It was the unfortunate side effect of her... 'gifts'. But the other side of her gift was that she could gingerly push thoughts into the recipients head. Her voice tickled softly in the back of his mind. “Stick around, I want to talk with you when I'm done with this.”

“Spilled bitter tears, I did this for you
Spilling over the idol, the black and the blue
The sweetest submission, drinking it in
The wine and the women, the bedroom hymns”

And as her fingers pulled away from Fitz's lips, she drew those thin fingers of her own lips and licked a taste, before standing back on her feet. Luckily it was a short song and she was able to shuffle off the stage. Her cheeks were a bit red as she went back behind the bar to collect her things. She'd had enough of the bar for one night and felt she needed to get out of there before anything else happened. Those deep blue eyes scanned the room looking for the Bright Eyed Fitz.

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“Fitz? I… I know that name… Fitz… Fitz Fitz Fitz…”[/b][/i] Taryn said, and Fitz felt a wave of nostalgia hit him for the umpteenth time that night. His Doctor repeated his name when he was excited. Fitz! Fitz Fitz Fitz! and then that damnable Time Lord would grab him by the collar and kiss the flustered human. Sometimes Fitz wondered if the Doctor did it just to see how red Fitz’s ears would go, because Fitz could feel the heat of the blush on his cheeks and it was probably some sort of sick and sadistic Time Lordish game. Fitz Fitz Fitz.

He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s not too uncommon,” he said mildly. Chivalrous? Handsome? These were certainly all adjectives he would use to describe himself, but usually women strove more towards the ‘chauvinistic pig’ and ‘twig’ sorts of adjectives. Still, Fitz wasn’t one to deny a compliment, so he smiled wildly. “All in a day’s work, really,” Fitz said, looking at his fingernails casually and brushing them on his shirt. He would have said more had the much-too-late bouncer not come over. Fitz stared at the bouncer, giving him his best disapproving stare until he casually mentioned Taryn breaking someone’s skull.

“I’ll send him flowers later,” Taryn responded. Fitz stared at her. She reminded him of Sam again, and he felt another stirring of homesickness. Home he questioned again, trying to discern when the damn time machine had become so precious. “Okay ladies and Gents! If you’ll turn your attention to the stage! We have a special treat tonight!! It’s time for our girls to strut their stuff! Welcome to Talent night!”

Talent night? He raised an eyebrow and glanced at Taryn. She didn’t seem particularly enthused about the ordeal. Molly’s hadn’t had a talent night when he was the musician. Or, at least, not a night where girls strutted their stuff – the most they’d ever had was when some other musician played against Fitz Fortune. And if there was only one thing Fitz could do, it was playing the guitar. “Sounds like fun,” Fitz said blandly.

“Ugh… Talent night… Would…You mind…you…”[/b][/color] the woman seemed to be fumbling for words. Fitz stared at her and smiled patiently, puzzled. “…doing me a favor? Just…have a seat…right there at the front of the stage for me?” Taryn asked. Fitz nodded and plopped himself down in the chair she’d pointed out. A few of the guys groaned and he looked at them quizzically.

“Sorry, mates. Shoulda been quicker, eh?” he said, offering them his infamous Fitz Fortune smile. Okay, so maybe not infamous, and it was more of a smirk than a smile.

“And it looks like we have a rare treat! Our lovely Taryn is here tonight!”[/b] Fitz glanced over his shoulder at Taryn, who did not appear at all happy with the situation or with being in the spotlight. The guys sitting beside him, on the other hand, nudged him and cheered the woman on as she climbed up on the familiar stage. How many times had he climbed that stage? He fidgeted as she put on some sort of strange device and clipped it to her ear.

Fitz was still utterly confused. All he knew was that the guys seemed very excited, Taryn didn’t seem pleased at all, and the lights had dimmed considerably. And then the music which didn’t quite match the words, but matched it well enough to avoid being terrible. Fitz felt his mouth run dry as he watched her movements. From her knees to her thighs to her hips. She was clearly comfortable with her body and it perturbed him, the familiarity of her. He averted his eyes as she crawled towards him, his cheeks heating.

Why the hell did she put me here?!

Cool fingers met his heated features, and he felt the familiar sensation of someone in his mind. His eyes widened and his heart went to his throat. The Doctor did the same thing – he hated it, especially when the Doctor answered an unspoken question, or commented upon an unspoken remark. His breathing grew shallow and he shuddered out a breathy sigh, a mixture of both her fingers trailing down to his lips and his thoughts centering on the Time Lord.

‘Stick around, I want to talk with you when I’m done with this,’[/color][/b] Taryn requested. Fitz nearly jumped, only barely remembering to keep his cool because the entire pub’s eyes were on them. The Doctor had never done that before. He stared at her, more than a trifle horrified with himself. There was a pretty girl in front of him putting her hands all over him, and he was thinking about a man?

He felt almost obliged to tell her that he wasn’t ‘that way’, and then he wondered how many times he’d had to clarify that point for strangers. He pushed the Time Lord to the back of his mind, irritated he couldn’t even enjoy a good show with a beautiful woman without being reminded of the blasted man.

Her fingers pulled from his lips and he felt himself moving with her, trying to keep their contact. Fitz watched as she drew her fingers to her lips and licked them. His face flushed again, and he looked down at his hands, his ears a bright red. A quick glance up showed that her cheeks were at least as red as his were as she disappeared behind the bar. He shut his eyes, listening as the announcer declared another woman for Talent Night. He stood up shakily, and a man slid in his seat almost as quickly as it had been evacuated.

Fitz walked over to where he’d been sitting and pulled on his leather jacket, patting his pocket to make sure the wallet was still in there. “That was… interesting,” Fitz said, smirking at the woman.[/size]

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Taryn mumbled softly to herself as she collected her things, spinning around to see Fitz. Her usually standoffish demeanor vanished as her bright blue eyes locked with those steely grey ones. It wasn't intentional, but she had seen a lot further into his mind than she meant to. The poor man had been forgotten by.. 'The Doctor', was it? Now THAT name she knew well. He'd been of great comfort to her in her first life, although she suspected that this was a different incarnation. But Fitz didn’t need to know that. There was something else that she'd seen, in the brief instance that their skin touched. This was home to him but nearly forty years outside his time line. But forty years which way? She hadn't detected that thought. Either way, this lad was The Doctor's 'misplaced' companion. And if she knew The Doctor as well as she thought she did, he'd come back for him. She considered The Doctor a friend and therefor, Fitz, - Mighty Wanderer and Defender of The Universe.... Needed looking after.

She went to trail a finger behind his ear, tucking away one of those unruly... would you call that a curl? His hair wasn't exactly curly but it certainly had a mind of it's own, didn’t it? Well, whatever you called it, she tucked it behind his ear, skin lightly brushing. When she expected skin contact, she could better control what came and went between minds. In this instance it was only the gentle pushed thought of “You can trust me” Not exactly a spoken thought, but more of a feeling.

But while her skin gently touched his, a hand was suddenly on her arm and it had instantly broken her concentration. The thoughts that pushed into her mind and, sadly into Fitz's as well, were of an angry barman who was glaring down at Fitz who still owed a tab. “You still have another 80 quid to make up for, pretty thing.” Taryn rolled her eyes and let go of Fitz so that he didn’t have to deal with the headache of multiple voices in her head. It was a pain enough for her most of the time. She didn't want to imagine what a trifle it could be for a Human. “You're drunk, Harold. Count your till again. Everything is paid for.” Taryn couldnt help it. Harold would have no memory of the incident if she played with his mind just right. “Infact.. I think you're well over budget for the month. How about a round of drinks for everyone to celebrate, eh?” she replied with a coy grin.

As Harold's eyes glazed over, once Taryn's hand was removed, he seemed rather elated at this sudden 'realization' and rang a bell at the end of the bar. The Bell had the engraved nick named 'Old Molly'. “C'mon Lads! Molly says, a round on the house!” Taryn grabbed Fitz's arm and pulled him out of the way of the drove of drunks come to attend the drinking frenzy, slipping out the door. She finally had a chance to reply to him after all the commotion. “Yeah.. Interesting. We can call it that.” she replied with a light laugh. She tilted her head to the side with a rather coy smile and placed her hands firmly on her hips and leaned in at him putting their faces rather close together as she posed him with her next question.

“I remember you now... Do you still have that guitar, Fitz Fortune?”

[Deleted]

Fitz felt tempted to pull back as her fingers brushed behind his ear. His cheeks were still slightly flushed from earlier. He raised an eyebrow questioningly to her. She hadn’t seen like the sort of woman to touch people needlessly – so why was she constantly rubbing him or trailing her fingers on him? Don’t get him wrong – he didn’t mind a beautiful woman rubbing up on him every now and then, but most of the time he paid for those sorts of services. He hardly liked when most people touched him – he’d always distanced himself just enough from people. The Doctor liked to touch him though. And he liked when the Doctor touched him, as much as he hated to admit it to himself.

He buried those thoughts. He’d entertain them when there wasn’t a nosy peeping Sally rifling through his mind. Fitz smiled at her, sheepishly. Still, he knew she wouldn’t hurt him. There were a hell of a lot of chances for her to already have tried that. Perhaps she wasn’t the safest person to be around, but it wasn’t like the Doctor was either. Fitz could trust her enough – maybe not fully, but enough. He put a hand on her wrist.

His eyebrow twitched as someone touched Taryn. He felt her irritation, multiplied by his own. He frowned as the man insisted that they were still eighty pounds short. Fitz tried to think how much Finn had snuck on him – not that much, certainly. And sure as hell wasn’t too keen on spending her money. He wasn’t a charity case – just a man forty years out of his time line and without his home. Eighty pounds? For just some alcohol? “Eighty?” he repeated a little blandly.

“You’re drunk, Harold. Count your till again. Everything is paid for.” Well that was certainly a lie. He stared at her quizzically before realizing what she was doing. Although he’d already been fairly suspicious that she wasn’t human, she confirmed his beliefs. Still, he hadn’t met much other friendly aliens. He’d had chips and beer with a werewolf and nearly gotten himself killed right before. But she was one of the rare ones that didn’t want to kill him. “In fact… I think you’re well over budget for the month. How about a round of drinks for everyone to celebrate, eh?”

Well. Wasn’t that going just a little overboard? Fitz smirked anyway, deciding to leave the morals up to the Doctor. ‘Old Molly’, huh? He grinned as she led him out of the pub. He stuck his hands in his leather pockets, following her. “I thought it was interesting, at least. Still, I don’t see why you didn’t just tell me you wanted to try to seduce me with music,” he teased, still slightly uneasy of the feeling.

She leaned close to him, and Fitz leaned closer to her, putting his hands on his hips to match her pose. “I remember you now… Do you still have that guitar, Fitz Fortune?”

Fitz’s mouth opened, then shut. He blinked at her, then looked over at Molly’s. Then he looked back at her, baffled. Fitz Fortune had never been that famous – had he? Sure, he was quite popular Molly’s, admittedly the best act she could get for so cheap. But he’d never thought that forty years later a beautiful woman would ask if he still had his guitar. But… no one pays attention to anyone after they’re gone. His mysterious disappearance, and the fact he was a murder suspect, probably lent a little towards him.

“No,” he admitted, looking up at the sky a little irritably. “It’s with my friend. I… uh, I let him borrow it,” he said blandly, cross with the Doctor all over again. “He probably forgot what it was. Might be using it as a cheese grater,” Fitz said mournfully.

He crossed his arms and tilted his head. “Most people just call me Fitz Kreiner now. You just didn’t go around broadcasting your German roots back then,” he explained simply. “So what are you? You’re not human, I mean.”

[Deleted]

Taryn could sense the slight apprehension of her putting her hands on him, and she didn’t need to read his mind to see it. His body language and the look in his eyes spoke quite clearly for him. It made her smirk a little as trailed that finger behind his ear. Once outside the bar, she smiled with a loud laugh and looked up at the sky. Watched the starts flicker above and she closed her eyes as if in such bliss. Her beloved stars.. .“I thought it was interesting, at least. Still, I don’t see why you didn’t just tell me you wanted to try to seduce me with music,” he teased, still slightly uneasy of the feeling. “There's other ways I could seduce you, if you like.” Her voice purring softly with the offer.

She leaned close to him, and Fitz leaned closer to her, putting his hands on his hips to match her pose. She smirked at his mimicry. It reminded her of a monkey.“I remember you now… Do you still have that guitar, Fitz Fortune?” and she just smirked at his dumbfounded expression. She remembered being there one of the nights he played. It was his eyes, she remembered. Pale steely grey eyes. That explained the ripple of Vortex Radiation she could see around him. And that also gave her a time line. He was 40+ years in his own future. No wonder he looked so lost.

“No,” he admitted, looking up at the sky a little irritably. “It’s with my friend. I… uh, I let him borrow it,” he said blandly, and Taryn smirked He seemed so cross about it and she felt that she had just asked him a deeply personal question about a former lover. Ah, musicians and their instruments. She supposed it was similar to the bond a Time Lord shared with their TARDIS. It was more than just a tool or instrument. Once you put so much of yourself into something the way a musician or a pilot did, they became part of you. So Taryn simply nodded sympathetically.. “He probably forgot what it was. Might be using it as a cheese grater,” Fitz said mournfully. 

She smirked at him and tried not to laugh. His 'friend' must have been quite the absent minded dolt to confuse a guitar for a cooking implement. “Most people just call me Fitz Kreiner now. You just didn’t go around broadcasting your German roots back then,” he explained simply. “So what are you? You’re not human, I mean.” She nodded in agreement and smiled up at him as he was a good few inches taller than she was. Her nose barely came to his chin. She found herself putting her arms slightly around him and putting her hands in his back pants pockets. “Observant little thing, aren’t you.” She gave his rear a light squeeze before withdrawing her hands and backing away to turn and begin walking.

She paused to look back at him, giggling at the poor confused man. “Well, come along, Bright Eyes. Cant just have you standing there gaping like a codfish.” as she continued to walk. “I'm a Time Lord. Taryn is just an alias, really. I'm The Goddess, but.... Please call me Taryn.. If you really insist of calling me Goddess, I'd rather it be behind closed doors,” she winked at her not so subtle hint.. “Fancy a coffee, Fitz, dear?” She inquired as she stepped up to what looked like a soda vending machine. It had a bit of paper taped to it that said “Out of Order” and she went to unlock it and stepped inside.. She poked her head out the door with a grin. “Come on.. I dont bite”

[Deleted]

Fitz stared at her, a grin cracking on his lips. “I do like,” he said. Well, he certainly wasn’t used to attention like this being bestowed upon him from beautiful women, but he figured he could get used to it. “Very much, actually.” He paused and looked at her a little more critically – he was thin as a rake, his hair was probably a mop of brown, and there was dog hair on his clothes. Why would she have picked him out of the bar? He hadn’t even ended paying for his drink – which was good, because the bird who stole his wallet sure hadn’t given him eighty pounds.

He quirked an eyebrow at her as she wrapped her arms around him. “Well, my middle name is Observant,” he told her, resting his hands on her hips as she put her hands in his pockets. “You know, almost exactly forty-two years I kissed this bird here,” he said, then nodded his head towards the alley. “She was pissed and started stumbling. Had to save her from these thugs. Almost gone by the police for murder. Misunderstanding,” he said, recounting briefly what led to leaving Earth with the Doctor and Sam.

His retelling ended when she squeezed him. “Uh…er…” She pulled away and looked over at him. He rolled his eyes and started after her. “I’m sorry that I was in shock over being molested outside a pub,” he said, shaking his head as he stepped alongside her. “Not that I’m complaining,” he added as an afterthought.

Time Lord? “Hey! Hey, I know a Time Lord. The Doctor. Do you know him?” Fitz asked, grinning brightly. “He’s a great guy. My best friend. Sam’s good, too, but…” he cleared his throat. Sam was a bit too different. She was healthy and a golden girl. The Doctor was dark, and although Fitz didn’t like the Doctor be surrounded by so much of it, it was what made him the Doctor. He was a strangely beautiful blend of dark and innocence. “I like him,” he said finally, lamely. “Time Lords in general, too. I like them. I’ve only met him, but… I mean… I like you, too, so it must be… Time Lords…” he trailed off, losing footing on that train of thought.

Fitz chuckled and shook his head as she told him not to call her Goddess out in public. That was different from the Doctor. The Doctor was always the Doctor. “Do you have tea?” Fitz asked, following her to the soda machine. He blinked, before realizing it must be her TARDIS. He’d only seen the police box, but when they were in Sweden and the TARDIS had been temporarily dead (in which Fitz was stranded without a knowledge of Swedish, but it was okay because the sexy Swede spoke English) it had reverted to a gray slab.

“I reckon the Doctor’s really is broken,” Fitz said thoughtfully, resting his hand on the outside of the ‘vending machine’ as she unlocked it. “He’s got a brain the size of Jupiter. I think it’s just his overwhelming laziness,” he said fondly. “I don’t mind much. I think I’d get confused if I had to start looking for something new every time he dragged us off somewhere…” he said thoughtfully.

Rambling. He was rambling. About the Doctor, again. He couldn’t even get a lay without that bastard Time Lord on his mind. He cleared his throat sheepishly, again, smiling at her. “Come on,”[/b] she said, poking her head out of her TARDIS with a grin. “I don’t bite.”

Fitz smirked and followed her inside. “What if I ask really nicely, Goddess?” he asked innocently, crossing over to her and putting his hands on her waist. “About that tea… I’m very thirsty,” he said, dropping his hands to his side and smiling at her. [/size]

[Deleted]

She watched the man's thin lips part into a slight grin and she just smirked. “I do like,” he said. . “Very much, actually.”  Her nose scrunched into a cute little wrinkle, pursing her lips slightly as she shut her eyes with a chuckle. The urge to just grab his face and squeeze his cheeks was almost too much to resist, but somehow she managed. He seemed so horribly neglected and it tugged at her slightly. Granted, he wasn't much to look at. He was lanky and tall, like someone had stretched flesh onto a Pipe Cleaner doll. But she found herself staring at his eyes again and could only smile.

“Well, my middle name is Observant,” he told her, resting his hands on her hips as she put her hands in his pockets. She tilted her head to the side smiling up at his as he rambled. He seemed so much like an enthusiastic child as he described the goings on if his life before his companionship. With his hands resting so comfortably and familiarly on the gently curves of her hips, she pressed her hips into his, giving his bum a playful squeeze.

His retelling ended when she squeezed him. “Uh…er…” She pulled away and looked over at him. He rolled his eyes and started after her. “I’m sorry that I was in shock over being molested outside a pub,” he said. Taryn paused her step just long enough to eye him with that thin brow arched at him. “Molested?” If he thought THAT was molestation, he was a very sheltered man indeed. What do time lords teach their companions now-a-days?  “Not that I’m complaining,” he added as an afterthought. 

She chuckled as he showed a sudden interest at the mention of 'Time Lord' and he began to ramble like that adorable enthusiastic child.  “Hey! Hey, I know a Time Lord. The Doctor. Do you know him?” She nodded softly as she began trailing her fingers along his arm as he went on. The fingers came to the center of his chest and trailed into the warmth of his jacket, teasing the man's skin through the layer of fabric that separated them from actual touch. ”I like you, too, so it must be… Time Lords…” he trailed off, and Taryn could only laugh softly as his train of thought violently derailed and withdrew her hand and she coyly remarked “I'm sorry, did I break your concentration, Bright Eyes?” Yes.. She knew The Doctor. But not as Fitz knew him. But The Doctor was still her friend. His incarnation didn’t matter to her. She wasn't sure how she'd go about it, but she wanted to help this lost little companion find his Doctor.

“Do you have tea?” Fitz asked, following her to the soda machine. Taryn nodded softly as she fumbled with her keys before remembering that it wasnt an actual key she required. The 'key' was the pendant that dangled gently from her neck. She removed the pendant from the chain and dropped it into the coin slot and the door clicked open. “Tea? Yes.. Yes I do. Among other things to drink or eat.”

“I reckon the Doctor’s really is broken,” Fitz said thoughtfully and Taryn glanced up at him curiously before realizing he must have been talking about The Doctor's TARDIS and it's faulty chameleon circuit.. “He’s got a brain the size of Jupiter. I think it’s just his overwhelming laziness,” he said fondly. Taryn smiled softly and nodded. "I know a few Time Lords like that. All that knowledge and wisdom and cant be bothered to change a light bulb" “I don’t mind much. I think I’d get confused if I had to start looking for something new every time he dragged us off somewhere…” he said thoughtfully.  Taryn watched his face as he came to a brief pause in his ramblings and smirked. He certainly was a chatty thing. . “Come on,” she said, poking her head out of her TARDIS with a grin. “I don’t bite.”

She grinned misheviously as the man slipped into the tardis behind her. “What if I ask really nicely, Goddess?” he asked innocently, crossing over to her and putting his hands on her waist.. Oooooh she could have just pinned him against the console just then and had him. But her composure remained absolute. “About that tea… I’m very thirsty,” he said, dropping his hands to his side and smiling at her.

She flashed a bright grin as she made her way inside. Her TARDIS was bright white on every surface, the walls seeming to glow as though there was a light behind them causing their slight luminescence. It was like walking into a sterile environment that not even Dust dared to gather. Her console was a large glass surface with six clear glass spheres that were placed evenly around the console. No nobs, no buttons or wheels, no levers No strange collections of oddities cluttering the surface. Just six strange glass spheres. In the center of the console was a tall glass pillar that reached into the ceiling of the room, the rods and rails within glowing a soft and hazy blue.

She trailed her fingers over the smooth glass surface until she rested her palm over one of the spheres and she gently shut her eyes and she shuddered a soft and content sigh. The walls, floor, and ceiling of the TARDIS flickered to life with gentle changes of color and hues until Taryn removed her hand from the sphere, and the psychedelic waves of color stopped and returned to their sterile white. Taryn grinned and motioned over her shoulder and what looked like a blank wall “Come on. Kitchen's this way” and she moved to the wall and softly pushed, a door opening seamlessly.

The kitchen looked completely different from the console room. It looked like on old cottage kitchen from a fairy tale. The floor was hard wood, an old long table with clay cups and pitchers. The ceiling was set high with rustic beams and bracers of dark wood that contrasted from the faintly yellowed stucco of the walls and ceiling. Strung up from the rafters were bunches of dried herbs, flowers and roots. But despite the old time look, there was a distinct modern feel to the room as approached what looked like an old wood burning stove and set a kettle to boil without having to light anything. She took a few herbs and bunches of leaves from the ceiling and placed them into a mortar and pedestal and gently ground them into a fine powder, making her own tea grounds. “Is there a particular flavor you're fond of?”

[Deleted]

So she did know the Doctor! Fitz smiled widely, encouraged. If she knew the Doctor, then maybe she knew of a way to contact him or something. Depending on someone so heavily didn’t set right with his stomach, so he brushed off the thought. Taryn began stroking his arm, and he, like the trooper he was, continued rambling on about the Doctor. Why was she constantly touching him? Her intentions were obvious – she wasn’t too shy about the fact this was going to end in her bedroom (or somewhere with a flat surface, at the very least) – but he couldn’t guess at her motives.

More rambling. And Taryn only continued her ministrations, teasing his skin through his shirt. He waivered and eventually trailed off, ending with an unconvincing ‘yeah’. Taryn laughed and moved her hand. Fitz sighed, a rather heavy blush on his neck. His brain wasn’t quite connecting – it had recognized pleasure, and it had recognized that he was thinking and talking of the Doctor. “I’m sorry, did I break your concentration, Bright Eyes?”[/b][/i] she asked, feigning innocence. Bright Eyes? He lowered his eyes.

“Of course not,” he lied, watching as she removed the pendant from the chain. “Yours is a lot more elaborate than his. It’s just a key. He keeps the spare on the doorframe, below the ‘P’,” Fitz told her, unsure why he was still rambling. He covered his mouth with his hands, trying to be nonchalant about the fact that he wasn’t capable of keeping his mouth shut. That drink must have been stronger than he’d thought. Or she put some sort of witchy Time Lord potion in it. He wasn’t sure how it worked actually.

“Among other things?” Fitz asked, tilting his head with an innocent smile of his own. “I think I like that sound of that. We could have a lot of fun with other things,” he grinned lecherously. “For example, I had this bird who liked to cover herself in strawberries,” Fitz explained, trailing off with a wink to get his point across. Well, if she could flirt shamelessly with him, it ought to work the other way around. “It was never boring with her. It could get a bit weird.”

“I know a few Time Lords like that. All that knowledge and wisdom and can’t be bothered to change a light bulb.”[/i]

Fitz snickered. He couldn’t imagine the Doctor doing something as domestic as changing the light bulb. He must get Sam to do the housework. “Sounds a bit like him. Although I think that he wouldn’t remember a light bulb from a lampshade,” he said thoughtfully, following her inside the TARDIS. To say that it was different would have been the understatement of a century. Where the Doctor’s was Victorian and full of plush furniture, Taryn’s was bright white and very… boring. “He’s just a bit… forgetful,” Fitz continued, examining her TARDIS.


He grinned at her when she mentioned that she wouldn’t bite. Well, that wasn’t any fun at all. He crossed the room and pleaded that if he asked very nicely if she’d bite. Fitz put his hands on her hips and leaned to her. His throat was dry from the alcohol he’d consumed, but he figured there were many other ways to get his mind off the lack of moisture in his throat. But, seeing as he was a perfect gentleman, he would accept the tea. “About that tea… I’m very thirsty,” he said, feigning innocence quite well if you asked him.

He watched curiously as Taryn put her hands on one of the spheres. The Doctor’s TARDIS didn’t have these orbs. Perhaps it was a different type? Or… furniture? Fitz had always been curious about the TARDIS, but he felt silly for asking questions. Sam always seemed to know everything about what the Doctor was going on about, and while Fitz could pipe up every now and then and make a joke, he understood drastically less than Sam. She seemed more intimate with the TARDIS than the Doctor did, and that was saying a lot.

Sometimes when he couldn’t sleep, he’d wake up and hear the Doctor muttering in the hallways. He asked Sam casually what they’d been talking about, but Sam told him to mind his own business. He finally poked his head out of his doorway and followed the sound of the Doctor’s voice to the console room, where the Time Lord was underneath the console and murmuring to it.

The spheres seemed to be telepathic or Taryn had some way of silently communicating with it. As she touched the sphere, the walls changed colors. Fitz took a step back, lowering his eyes. His hand brushed one of the spheres curiously. “Come on. Kitchen’s this way,” Taryn said, interrupting his curious examination of the sphere. He blinked up at her, and then smirked, wondering if her kitchen had a flat surface and some strawberries. If it did, then maybe they could skip the tea and get straight to the biting.

“I’m following you,” Fitz chirped, moving his hand from the sphere and following Taryn out of the room and into the kitchen. It didn’t match the console room at all, and Fitz thought Taryn ought to have a word with her interior decorator, because they seemed a bit off in the head.

“Is there a particular flavor you’re fond of?”[/i] Taryn asked, grounding the herbs into a powder.

Fitz shook his head. “It’s all tea to me,” he said, shrugging.[/size]

[Deleted]

She noted the bland interest in the layout of her TARDIS and she smirked slightly and nodded at the console. “You can make it look however you like, if it's too bland for your taste, Fitz” she replied with a smirk. She trailed her fingers over the console much the same way she would trail her fingers over Fitz's body. “I usually just leave it as a blank canvas.. I dont exactly bring home lost companions often.” She winked at him with a smile “You're welcome to try. It can be a bit.. disorienting at first though so.. You may want to wait until after we have a nip” She, ofcourse meant the tea, but that smile she gave obviously indicated she had other plans.

She brought him into the kitchen. She wasn't sure why, but she was always so fond of the older rustic styles. It reminded her of the first visit to earth when she was just a kid.. almost ninety. She mused over the lay out. It was very similar to house she and her brother had visited. It was her brother that did most of her upbringing. She collected her particular favorite ingredients for a particular blend her father had once shown her. As she ground the herbs into the mortar, her motions with the pedestal were a bit more than suggestive.

“Is there a particular flavor you’re fond of?” Taryn asked, grounding the herbs into a powder. Fitz shook his head. “It’s all tea to me,” he said, shrugging. “Not a picky sort, eh?” She smirked. If that was the case, he probably wouldn’t have a clue what she was slipping into his tea. However, she still seemed pretty snokered from the drinks she'd served him only an hour or so ago. Once she ground everything up and set it into a little filter bag she put it into the kettle to boil down. Without looking back at him she smiled to herself. She found herself humming the song from not too long ago when she trailed her fingers across the man's lips.

Once the tea had finished, she poured him a cup and offered it to him, pouring another for herself . She smirked as he went to bring it to his lips and before he could even take the first sip she sneakily nudged his elbow causing him to spill piping hot tea all down the front of his shirt. She made a gasp of mock surprise. “Oh dear, look at that mess. Tsk tsk” She immediately pushed his jacket off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor and grabbed the hem of his shirt., beginning to pull it up and off, her lips trailing kisses up his abdomen and to his neck as she pulled his shirt off. Her breath shuddered against his flesh as she suddenly found herself kissing his lips, fingers trailing into his hair. She then had his lower lip gently in her teeth and slowly backed away, her hands trailing down his body and resting on his hips.

“Well?... Dont just undress me with your eyes, Fitz.” Her hands left his hips and rested on the table behind her and with a light hop, found herself sitting on the edge. The slight lift in her height, and Fitz was still an inch or so taller than she was. Which was alright by her standards. She liked the tall ones. Her boot casually slipped off one of her feet and she pointed her toe to dance circles near the hem of his pants before setting that foot on his hips. “Or shall I have to help you with that as well?”