milady_dragon (milady_dragon) wrote,
milady_dragon
milady_dragon

On Sex and the Art of Arse-Dialing

On Sex and the Art of Arse-Dialing
Author: Milady Dragon
Series: On-Verse
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Jack/Ianto; Amy/Rory; Eleventh Doctor/River, Jack/Ianto/TARDIS (mentioned)
Warning: I no longer warn for crack, because with these that's a given.  But I will for random phone dialing, strange movie references,  the Doctor failing to be impressive, mentions of Rory contributing to the delinquency of a TARDIS and TARDISpreg (this should be a sub-genre, it really should be),
Spoilers: None really
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood, I would have treated it better.  I also don't own Doctor Who, but Stephen Moffatt actually takes care of it quite nicely.
Author's Note  I haven't visited this universe in a while, and it felt like coming home...albeit a really strange and off-kilter home that needs to be visited by a licensed exorcist.  I have to thank the usual suspects for this plot bunny, but especially [personal profile] bookwrm89 , and she knows why.  This does take place after On What to do With a Drunken TARDIS, with a couple of obvious mentions of that story.  I'm also writing this as one of my Long Live Bingo prompts, Wild Card, and I've chosen "Crack!fic".  Which this is.  But you all already knew that. 


Summary:  The TARDIS is getting some very strange phone calls...




 

Amy Pond (or Williams, depending on her mood and/or time of the month) was surprised when the very distinct sound of a phone ringing came from somewhere within the console of the TARDIS.

Yes, she’d known that the mysterious being – and very odd son-in-law – called the Doctor had a phone on board his ship; she’d seen him use it before.  But this was actually the first time it had rung on its own, and she hadn’t been expecting it.

“I wonder what planet’s in danger now?” River Song bustled past, a wide grin on her face.  It was still strange to her knowing that River was her daughter, and that she’d gone and married the Doctor, of all people.  Personally, if she’d been able to raise young Melody she would have warned her away from the Time Lord, not wanting her only child associating with the sort of person who casually cruised the galaxy looking for trouble. 

Do as I say, not as I do,’ apparently wasn’t in Amy’s book of favorite sayings.  It didn’t even make it into the top one hundred, buried deeply under such favorites as ‘Never tug on a Dalek’s sucker arm’ and ‘A cup of vinegar a day keeps the Slitheen away’.

River reached across the console, but before she could actually answer anything the Doctor showed up and beat her to it, doing some sort of strange hand movements that almost had him dropping what looked like an old-fashioned handset onto the TARDIS floor. 

He opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out.  He turned a lovely shade of puce, then slammed the receiver back down.  He managed to look both embarrassed and affronted at the same time.  “Wrong number,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, which Amy knew meant either, ‘Of crap, the Universe is ending’ or ‘I think I left my underwear in the washing machine overnight.’

Knowing the Doctor, it was the former.  Ever since Rory had taken over laundry duties, the latter simply didn’t happen.  Neither did anything coming out pink that wasn’t meant to be pink in the first place.

He’d barely gotten the words out, when the phone rang again.

“Don’t answer it!” he snapped, reaching for the phone once more and ignoring his own words.  “Don’t call here again!” he shouted, his face going from puce to something closer to magenta.  It wasn’t a good colour for him at all.

He hung the phone up once more, glaring at it as if his gaze could set it on fire.  It didn’t do any such thing, which made Amy wonder just where all that ‘Oncoming Storm’ crap had come from in the first place, if he couldn’t visually combust a simple phone.

The phone remained silent for a couple of minutes, seemingly lulling the Doctor into a false sense of security.  He was a good five feet from the console when it rang again.

River got it this time, smirking at him.  It was like some sort of foreplay for them, and Amy couldn’t unsee it.   Knowing that her only daughter routinely slept with an ancient alien in a bow tie was something she just didn’t want to even know about. 

It also irritated her, because she knew damned well they didn’t have to deal with the stupid bunk beds.

“Hello?” River answered saucily, refusing to shrivel under the Doctor’s glare.  As she listened, her eyebrows went up, and the smirk turned into a full-blown salacious grin.  “Oh, sweetie,” she chuckled throatily, “I didn’t realize the TARDIS encouraged obscene phone calls!”

Amy practically tugged the handset from her daughter, giving her the same stern look that she’d gotten as a child when she’d done something naughty.   Of course, it didn’t work on River one bit.

She didn’t hang up the phone though, not when the most delicious moans were coming over the line.  She wondered vaguely if she could make Rory sound like that.  Maybe if she did that thing with her tongue…

The line disconnected quite suddenly, much to her annoyance.

The Doctor began pushing buttons and generally doing things to the console that would have been impressive if Amy didn’t know by now that it really meant he had no clue what he was doing.  By the time she’d hung up the phone Rory had joined them, looking confused. 

Rory was just so adorable when he looked confused.  It made Amy want to drag him off and do filthy things to him.  He apparently had developed that brand of telepathy that spouses did, because he gave her a wink that promised he’d let her as soon as possible.  Unfortunately, Amy had yet to get on the same wavelength with him, but she was working on it, and had faith that it would happen someday.

The phone rang again.                                                                                        

“Don’t answer it!” the Doctor ordered once more, as he darted around the console somewhat frenetically. 

For real?

Amy answered it.

The same passionate noises assaulted her ears, and she held the receiver close to her head, very content to listen to whoever it was on the other end.  Rory was staring at her, his eyebrow raised, as the Doctor stood with his hands on his hips, resembling that particularly cross headmaster who’d been thwarted from his pursuit of Ferris Bueller.

Or was the American term ‘principal’?  She couldn’t remember.  The Doctor didn’t seem to have that film in his rather pitiful collection and the last time she’d seen it had been on a very quiet night with Rory that had ended in really raucous sex which had meant she’d been hoovering up popcorn for weeks.  She still didn’t know how those kernels had gotten into the light fixture on the ceiling though…

Abruptly, the phone disconnected again.  “Why do they keep hanging up like that?” she demanded, frustrated.  Who knew she’d be enjoying an obscene phone call so much?  Maybe she could ask Rory if they could have phone sex at some point. 

“Better yet,” River drawled, “who’d be calling the Doctor just to have sex at him over the phone?”

“Oi!” the Doctor exclaimed.  “I’ll have you know I’ve had some of the greatest people in all of Time coming onto me!”

“Of course you have, dear,’ River agreed in a tone that said she was completely humouring him.  Only a wife could pull that off successfully, and for some reason that made Amy particularly proud.

“You mean,” Rory snorted, “someone’s obscene calling the TARDIS?”  He sounded totally unimpressed.

“I was going to try to figure out who it was and where it was coming from,” the Doctor replied testily, “before Mrs. Williams picked up this last time!”  He only called her ‘Mrs. Williams’ when he was really cross with her.  Not that that bothered Amy one bit of course.

“You want to join them?” River teased.  “I never knew you were the orgy sort.  How very 51st Century of you, darling.”

The Doctor looked outraged.  He spluttered, but he didn’t make any sense…which was par for the course, really.

“Why can’t you just block the number?” Rory asked.  Amy had to admit that her husband was making a great deal of sense, but then he seemed to do that a lot and was one of the reasons she adored him.

“I don’t need to be told what to do by the man who got the TARDIS drunk!” the Time Lord cried, pointing an accusatory finger.

Rory rolled his eyes.  “It was just the once.”

“And she ended up having unprotected sex with two immortals because of it!”

“Is it my fault the TARDIS gets randy when she’s into her cups?”  Rory was unfazed by the Doctor’s anger, and it was really kinda hot.  Amy would have to reward him for it later.

“She got pregnant!”

“And just how is that possible with a time/space machine, anyway?” Rory wanted to know.  “Besides, you know you love Isabella Idris as much as the rest of us do.”

“She certainly has her fathers’ dress sense,” River commented.  “And she knows how to party.”

The Doctor opened his mouth to most likely put his foot right in, when the phone rang once more.   “Don’t answer it!” he shouted as he preformed his dance around the console once more, moving like an apoplectic stork with a broken leg.

Amy really wanted to pick it up, but she kept her hands to herself this time.  Personally, she did want to meet whoever it was on the other end of the line, because they sounded like they knew a few things that could be fun to try, and she knew Rory would be up to almost anything.  After all, he’d been the one who’d come up with several brilliant ways to use a set of bunk beds as a sexual aid.

“Ah ha!” the Doctor’s victory cry sounded just as the phone ceased ringing.  He stared at whatever the TARDIS was telling him, and his face fell.  “Oh, you have got to be kidding…”

Amy thought this time the TARDIS’ landing noises sounded distinctly smug.

The Doctor was storming across to the doors, and he flung them open with a force that would have been studly if it weren’t for the fact that he was married to Amy’s daughter, and so made him off-limits.  Amy was right behind him, and she knew Rory and River had followed, and as she stepped from the time machine she realized exactly where she was.

The Torchwood Hub.  Only the Hub could make living in a sewer completely acceptable.

The Doctor was looming over a pair of nearly naked men who were obviously in the middle of some naughty business involving a sofa and a long, woolen coat.  He was shaking his finger at them, looking thunderous, although neither of them seemed to be bothered by the over-the-top censure.  Amy knew them, too, and it was all she could do to keep from laughing as the Doctor chewed them out.

“Next time,” he snapped, “take your bloody mobile out of your pocket before you decide to have sex on your coat, Jack!”

 

 

 



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Tags: bingo, crossover, doctor who, longliveianto, on sex and the art of arse-dialing, on-verse, torchwood
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