Fantasies; Torchwood; R

[morgynleri]

Note: Written for fandom_me's Guilty Pleasures Fest. A glimpse into the raw version of my mind creating plot bunnies. No, not the muses, not the Shetland-pony-sized bunnehs with spiked collars and t-shirts, not the strange lounge full of random furniture and the most massive open bar I can imagine. The fantasies of "time to sleep, damnit, intiate brain wind-down". Well, mostly. A bit polished up, this, not quite as disjointed. More dialogue. Anyway. On with the story.

Title: Fantasies
Fandom: Torchwood, Doctor Who
Story Rating: R
Story Warnings: smut (eventually), language (around small children, no less!), personal fantasy, deliberately unbeta'd

Chapter Rating: PG
Chapter Warnings: personal fantasy, deliberately unbeta'd

Disclaimer: No one in this story is mine. Except Morgyn, because she's me, and the offspring. Everyone else belongs either to themselves, or to the BBC. Characterizations are questionable on the real people I haven't met.

Fantasies

"You're the only one who came back."

"If you can send me home, Doctor, you can find a way to bring Rose back here."

The Doctor watched Morgyn for a long moment, standing on a misty battlefield with the faint glimmer of a crack in the universe behind her. Around them, he could hear the clash of steel, the cries of the dying. A reminder of what would happen if he opened up a way between universes.

"It's not that simple."

"Is it?" She let a corner of her mouth quirk up in a grin, her hand tightening around the smaller one tucked into hers. "Tell your fans that, Doctor. They certainly think otherwise. You're better than you think." She paused, turning slightly. "But don't let that go to your head."

Before he could reply, she turned away, stepping through the break, darin the risks of the Void for both herself and the child clinging to her hand. Leaving her friends, Torchwood, and everything she'd built here for a chance to go home. Abandoning her life for those she'd left behind.

Maybe she was right. And if she was this determined to get home, perhaps his Rose would risk as much. There had to be some way, somewhere, somewhen, to get his Rose back.

~ ~~ ~

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all." Morgyn leaned against the side of the hotel bed, her head tilted back and eyes closed. "They're vultures, the lot of them."

"You vanished from in front of John's autograph table."

"So did a dozen other people."

"You're the only one who came back." A pause. "More than six years older, from what you've said, and a mother, but you're still the only one who came back."

"Because the others are casulties of either Agincourt, or dropping into a winter day just outside Cardiff after being injured in said battle. Of all the places to land, that was one I could have done without."

"It won't change the facts of what happened from the view point of the world on this side of the break."

Morgyn finally cracked an eye open, lifting her head to look at Scott. "Most of this world can sod off, media in particular. Friends and family are who I worry about. They're going to ask questions that the media won't think to, and are more akward to answer."

"Including, 'Did you get the Doctor's autograph?'"

"Some, perhaps. More likely that they'll want Jack's." She let out a dry chuckle, dropping her head back against the bed for a moment, staring at the ceiling. "To which the answer is that of course I got one. Only one, for John, and that wasn't my idea. Jack suggested it."

"What did happen?"

"It's a long story, best told once." Morgyn sighed, standing to stretch, and check the little boy sleeping on the bed. "On video, with all the bits and pieces I brought back with me that I'm willing to share."

"You have all weekend before the end of the con."

"I know." Morgyn brushed the dark hair away from her son's face. "I even have a peaceful retreat from the vultures, and I'm grateful to you and John for that." She looked over her shoulder. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

~ ~~ ~

"Camera's ready, mike's working. You got everything you need ready, Morgyn?" Tony looked over at Morgyn, an expectant expression on his face.

"Everything except, perhaps, my sanity, but that's always in question." Morgyn swiped at her son's hair with the brush one last time in a futile effort to tame it a bit.

"Sanity is overrated." Tony caught the boy as he escaped Morgyn, bolting for the door. "Whoa there. Don't want to run into the jackals outside, kiddo."

"No, we don't." Morgyn took the squirming child back, setting him on the chair, and crouching so she was eye-level with him. "Can you sit here and be good for mummy, Michael?"

"Don't like cameras." He glared at the offending machine. "Da says they're everywhere. He showed me. Could see the whole city."

"They're not everywhere here, kit. Not like in Cardiff and the Hub with the CCTV. No cameras in the halls at home."

"This isn't home."

Morgyn drew in a quiet breath, reaching out to hug Michael. "Oh, kit." She held him close, shifting to sit in the chair with him in her lap, stroking his hair gently. "I know you didn't want to leave Cardiff, sweetling, but mummy had to take the opportunity to go home. And you know your da and uncles and aunties have to watch over the whole city...."

"So did you! You left!" Michael squirmed away again as an agonized expression flashed across Morgyn's face, the small boy fleeing to the attatched room, hiding between the bed and the wall when his stuffed dragon had been stowed earlier.

Tony reached over to turn off the camera. Perhaps later they'd be able to record the story.

Part 2

Note the second: Usually I won't even write this down, much less post it. This is about four versions before any plot you lot see out of me. Sometimes more, if it's being a particularly stubborn thing to beat into shape. And at least two versions before anything is written down. Not all plots are like this, but the epic ones.... *points up* This is how they begin. Bedtime stories.

Comments

[fandom-me.livejournal.com]

I love you just a little for this.

[morgynleri]

*beams* 'S all your fault I'm writing it down, too. This plot was one that's being a pain to figure out how to modify for a proper story. Heh. Though I'm having fun with the Agincourt battle scene. I adore history, and actually have a fair idea what it's going to be like to try to escape that. Nasty, mostly, but... anyway, I'll let you read it when I get the next segment done.