A Teaspoon And An Open Mind: A Doctor Who Fan Fiction Archive
Tenth Doctor
Pretty Little Soldier by samfeasor [Reviews - 4] Printer

Jenny feels heart break for the first time on the fifty-seventh day of her life. Two days earlier she'd met a pretty little soldier on this pretty little planet she's on, and she just doesn't understand why her hearts beat funny when he smiles at her. When he says her name her cheeks flush, and she feels like she's become the centre of the room, and all eyes are on her.

It's dreadfully frustrating.

She knows about sex, and about using sex to get what you want, but she's never known the wanting to be anything more than a military objective. If she needs to get out of a cell, and she knows the guard has looked at her like that, his heart rate and body temperature increasing when she walks in the room, why not give him a good snog to buy herself some freedom?

But her pretty little soldier makes her feel differently, like the kissing would be just for the sake of kissing him. It makes the kissing more intimidating, because it's become more than just a means to an end. It is the end.

For the first time in several days, she wishes Donna were with her. Not her dad, though he'd be nice to see, because Jenny knows he'd be rubbish at this sort of thing. She wonders if these funny things people keep calling relationships are just genetically incompatible with Time Lords. It would be easier to know the answer if she knew what, exactly, a Time Lord was, but for now she'd just settle for Donna giving her some advice. And maybe knocking the pretty little soldier about the head until he decided he'd like to kiss Jenny as much as she'd like to kiss him.

And that's the problem, she decides, on the third day of knowing him. Two whole days wasted on this man who doesn't even realize he should be kissing her! She bangs her fist against a desk in frustration, which draws his attention, which causes her cheeks to flush again.

"Jenny?" He asks after her in his deep and soothing voice, with the strange accent of his planet. He asks after her with what she can only hope is genuine concern in his eyes (it looks like what she saw in the eyes of her father, Martha, and Donna... it must be concern, mustn't it?). He asks after her with a small smile on his face, and it's that smile that gives her hope and courage, and steels her shoulders.

She's a soldier, after all. Why should she be afraid of one man?

"Can you kiss me?" His face falls, and she realizes the question was absolutely terrible and stupid, and she should never have said anything at all. She'd tell him as much, but Jenny's suddenly found it very difficult to draw in breath, let alone talk, and so she stares at him, eyes wide, as he shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, Jenny. I'm married."

Married? She met a woman weeks ago, for tea, who called herself a wife, and said something about a marriage. Jenny had nodded her head as if she understood, because that particular woman made Jenny feel embarrassed about all the gaps in her knowledge.

"You're a wife?"

The pretty soldier laughs. Only a few minutes ago, she would have enjoyed the sound of that laugh and the way it tinkled down her spine. Now it felt like a blow to her stomach.

"A husband."

The word is foreign to her, but Jenny just nods. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. It's flattering."

Another foreign word. Flattering. Flattening, more like. Her cheeks feel like they're on fire, and she looks down at her own boots to keep herself from having to see his face any longer. "I'm going to go."

"Wait, I -"

But Jenny has no more room for excuses or wasted days. She leaves the planet quickly and quietly, and leaves her pretty little soldier far behind.
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