Dr Who: Eleven & Rose | | Girl All The Bad Guys Want [AU]
fuck it i wrote something.
The first time he saw her was when the click of her heels
broke his concentration.
He’d been tapping his pen on the side of his head, just for
kicks, and his headset had been off, so he heard her clearly.
His eyes followed the movement that came with the noise and
they widened rapidly as they drank in the sight of toned legs and a short black
leather skirt, all the way up to the white silk of her blouse, slightly see
through, maybe on purpose, revealing her black bra beneath.
Perfectly curled blonde waves fell down her back, and
swished as she walked.
She turned once to blow a kiss goodbye to his horrible cad
of a boss, Harold Saxon, and he nearly died.
Her lips were pink and lush and her eyes were dark and
smoldering, like honeyed whiskey.
How was it that total arseholes like Harold could get a
woman like that?
The next time he saw her was when he went down to the coffee
shop to get the usual order for the office.
He was still the newest employee and thus had to do the
dreaded boring jobs, like retrieving coffee for half the office.
She wasn’t standing in line, she was off to the side,
chattering up a storm with the skinny barista who had messy hair and a big
smile to match her own.
He seemed nice enough, but then he noticed how she was touching
his arm, and got jealous all at once.
The barista wasn’t a bad guy, at least he didn’t think,
until he noticed the leather jacket hanging under a helmet behind the counter.
He rode a motorcycle, of course.
She left the barista, and the line progressed forward.
But she wasn’t leaving.
There was a bloke with a shaved head and icy blue eyes she
was sitting down with now.
She was with him.
He looked strong enough to crush any other man in one punch
if he wanted.
She didn’t seem to notice.
Her smile was bright enough to eclipse the sun.
Clearly she liked him.
He tried not to stare. She was dressed a lot more casually
but somehow managed to look twice as pretty.
He got his coffees and lingered as long as he could.
She and the dangerous military type guy left arm in arm, and
he ignored the pang in his stomach.
He saw her again out and about in the park, while he was
sitting and reading on a Saturday.
She was with the barista.
Turns out the guy could grow a decent beard, and she seemed
to like it. They stopped chatting to snog for a bit every so often.
He rubbed his cheeks and mournfully sighed.
He wished he could grow a beard.
‘I could be a bad boy too.’
Now every time he saw his boss on the phone he wondered if
he was talking to her.
He just wanted to know her name.
Eventually he got the courage to do it.
“That blonde bird, you had for lunch the other day…”
Harold barked out a laugh, and waved a dismissive hand,
“She’s just a call girl.”
That made his heart clench even harder.
She wasn’t actually taken, but she wasn’t free either.