Waste Not

by Culumacilinte [Reviews - 0]

  • All Ages
  • None
  • Het, Humor

'Ah- Iris?'


'Ah.' The faint clank of chains against stone. 'I don't mean to seem pressuring, but seeing as you have managed to extricate yourself from those manacles- and a smashing job you did of it, I must say- wouldn't the cricket thing to do be to help free me as well?'

The clinking sounded again, this time a little louder, as the Doctor wiggled his hands in their manacles for emphasis.

Iris chewed ostentatiously on her lower lip, eyeing him up and down. The chains she herself had been trussed up in now lay coiled in the corner. The Doctor swallowed. He always felt rather unnervingly like a particularly delicious steak under Iris's eye; strung up like this, the sensation was more akin to being the cow before it had the pleasure of being carved up.

... That was rather morbid of him. And Iris seemed to have got closer. He cleared his throat again.




She laughed throatily, and the Doctor twitched as a delicate hand with long, manicured nails spread across the knit of his jumper, and began an extremely unsubtle move downwards.

'Come now, chuck, and waste an opportunity like this? I never.'