Author's Note: It's that time of year again! Inspired by true life events. It ends kind of abruptly, but I decided (for once) to not have a naughty fic… There's another in the making, I swear. ^.~
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who but Matt Smith sure as hell owns my heart…
Amy walked into the console room and frantically searched with her eyes for the Doctor. Dear god, please let him be here… she thought. She was oddly stiff and afraid to move more than what was necessary. She had her shoulders thrust back with her chest pushed out, though it was more of an effort to stop something from touching her than to display her breasts. Her hair was slightly ruffled and she wore a similar nighty to the one when she first boarded the TARDIS so many weeks ago.
She finally found him, underneath the glass floor, fiddling with this and that. His coat lay on the chair on the level she was. How is it that no matter what time of day it is, the Doctor always is touching the TARDIS? Does it really need that many repairs? How much does he need to push this and pull that to tell her were to go? This all flew over Amy's mind, but a much more urgent matter was at hand.
"Doctor…?" She said, with a look on her face that couldn't quite be placed. The uncertainty in her voice made him shoot his head up with wide eyes. He ran out from the lower level and took the short steps two at a time.
"Amy? What is it? Tell me now."
"Bug bite. On my back."
The Doctor fumbled for a bit.
"Please, please, please could you scratch it? I thought I could get away with leaving it alone, but I couldn't take it anymore. When I went to scratch, it was right in the middle of my back. My hands can't get a good angle." She turned her body stiffly around with a pleading look in her eyes.
He sighed, with a bit of a chuckle at the end. "Alright, alright, let's see the little bugger." Before Amy had any time to protest, the Doctor had lifted up her nighty up to the back of her shoulders.
"Oy! What are you doing over there?" she said, and bleakly tried to push down her clothes again.
"I'm checking it to make sure it's a normal bug bite and not one that we might want to be more concerned about."
Amy pursed her lips together, incredibly embarrassed that she was wearing her granny panties. This whole scene reminded her being at a doctor's office as a child. Thankfully her nighty was more comfortable than those robes they made you wear. A thought came to Amy's and her embarrassment washed away with a snicker. "Kind of funny…"
"What is?" the Doctor asked, with his nose nearly touching her skin to inspect the bug bite. He poked it around the edges and Amy whimpered a little. She shook her head out of the bliss from some sort of contact being made with the bug bite.
"The Doctor playing Doctor."
"Are we going there again, Pond?"
"Well, if you want to be called 'The Doctor', I'm saying you should be able to produce some paper work to tell me you are a doctor."
He quickly licked the bug bite and Amy let out a short, loud cry, completely startled. The cool air where the left-over saliva was felt great on the flaming red bump. The Doctor gazed up at the ceiling, letting his tongue taste the bite, trying to detect anything concerning. "Your prognosis, Ms. Pond, is very good!"
"Just a normal bug bite?" she asked.
"Yup!" He said cheerily, still holding up her nighty.
"Good! Then scratch!" she said pushing her back towards him. Nearly immediately, he obliged and gave her short, hard scratches on her bare back.
"Oh! Oh… ohhhh…." Amy moaned, closing her eyes and tilting back her head. "Oh, yeah… oh, please don't sto—ohh, yyeaaaahh…" The smile on her face was that of pure happiness. The Doctor wasn't sure if anything could make her happier than she was now. He started to scratch harder and quicker, changing the way he scratched in all sorts of ways and Amy made the funniest of noises. There was something about her moans that was particularly… intriguing. He liked them in some way, shape, or form.
Just as the bite started to get too warm and her skin around it a little too red, Amy announced "Okay! Okay! We're done," Amy said, retracting her back.
The Doctor let go of the hem of her nighty, gently took her hand and started to lead her up the stairs.
"Where are we going?"
Amy shot him a confused look and was about to say something when he interrupted with, "For ointment on your bite."
This answer confused her even more. "If you had ointment all this time, why didn't you offer it before you scratched it?" She looked at the back of his head, brown hair flopping to his steps.
"Sometimes it just feels good to give in. I didn't want to take that away from you", he turned his head slightly to see her, with a bit of… mischievousness? in his eye. He turned his head forward and gave her hand a squeeze.
Amy continued to follow him, slightly perplexed. Sometimes it just feels good to give in… what was that supposed to mean? If she was anywhere else and this was any other man, she would take that sentence as flirting. But she was on a bloody time machine-thingy with the Doctor who doesn't have a degree, which left her confused and wanting for clarification without trying to sound dirty. She decided to leave it be.