My fanfiction and other random ramblings

Srebrna, Skald Arkadii (and thoughts on writing)

But if you can still dream – 7

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“I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was.”

William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night’s Dream (1595-6)

Rose – Déjà senti

She was looking at the new piece of technology the research had salvaged from one of the “uncontrolled contact with the ground” places and trying to understand what might be the meaning of all these small indicators, circles and dials. She breathed deeply, closed her eyes and put her hands on the surface, opening herself to the structure and she felt herself slipping away, just a bit aside from her surroundings. The sounds vanished first, then the smells… She breathed slowly, trying to spread her palms as wide as she could to reach all available surface of the object. There were some knobs and switches there, almost familiar, as if she had already touched this, or very similar control board. But no finger-tingling, no intuitive movement showed up. She raised her hands, shook them loose for a moment and approached the board from the other side. Perhaps she was just looking at it upwards down?

Three hours still didn’t give any information, either factual or imaginary. No suggestions from her subconsciousness, but the eerie familiarity of the “thing” was getting on her nerves. She sat in her deep armchair, crossing her legs and looking angrily at her desk. She was angry. And her nerves had seen better times, too. She was…

close to tears. And suddenly she groaned inwardly – this one she knew and recognised as a really bad dream. It started well enough, with some basic how-to-fly-a-TARDIS instructions, but ended in tears, slamming the door and feeling down and inferior. He was making fun of her, she knew it, just knew it, and he was standing there, with this foolish superior-life-form smile on his face and… and suddenly he was standing just behind her, his hands covering hers on the controls, guiding her to do things slowly, calmly and carefully. His breath tickled her cheek as they silently co-operated, his hands guiding her, and she submitting to the teaching. She began to understand – or at least to feel a bit closer to the understanding of the idea – and she relaxed, just a bit, and managed to finally draw a breath. And stopped moving, at once. It wasn’t him. It was… him… Her mind performed a somersault. It wasn’t black leather – or black jumper – that he was wearing. Actually, it wasn’t the brown coat or pin-striped suit either, but a delicate pale-blue shirt that he sometimes wore with the suit. This didn’t… this didn’t make sense… but somehow, in a very convoluted way, it was good. Of course she was attracted to Nine. Hell, who wouldn’t be? Her mother was… Perhaps not a good thought. Concentrate on the controls, girl, you know it’s a dream, but you can make the most of it. Ooh, his cologne…

She actually felt light-headed in the dream. And she could think – double-think actually. One level was still dreaming and was approaching absolute bliss in a brisk pace, the other was observing the first and second-thinking. Analysing. And trying to merge with the first one in order not to ruin a nice dream.

Actually, it was becoming quite… intense…

Hopefully the dream Doctor didn’t notice the goosebumps his breath created on her skin, or her catching breath or the fact that she was trying very hard not to let herself relax and melt into his arms. She savoured the feeling of his chin on her right arm, of his fingers upon her own and let her eyes close.

The TARDIS flew silently and calmly through the space.

She woke up, her head still a bit light and swoony.

This dream ended differently last time. Oh, the new ending was an improvement – but still left her with tears in her eyes and a heartache.


The TARDIS flew silently and calmly through the space as the lingering traces of female hands disappeared from the main control panel.


Written by Srebrna

2013/07/31 at 09:35

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