A/N Hello, hello! Me again, bringing you another whumptastic Doctor Who story for your reading pleasure. This story involves the Tenth Doctor and Rose Tyler and will be pretty dark with lots of whump and some very suggestive situations. Not for the faint of heart, but if you're into this kind of stuff (like my twisted mind is) then hopefully you'll enjoy. Cheers!
The entire facility was buzzing with excitement as the shuttle landed at the dock. It was a fine, sleek piece of machinery, artfully crafted for short-distance flights and ceremonial decoration. Its metallic body reflected the dull, nondescript walls of the building it landed beside, creating a stark juxtaposition between the two.
Heavily reinforced walls rose up on the other three sides of the docking area and a metal plate slid across the top as a ceiling, sealing the shuttle in. Now, if anyone was looking, it would seem as if the shuttle had never landed here. Politically, of course, it hadn't. As far as the universe was concerned, the shuttle was still in route to Saxicon 7 for an Ambassador's Dinner. No one would expect it to be here.
The employees of the facility had all been told to keep their heads down, but that was like asking a crowd of rabid fans to ignore the presence of a rock star. Discreetly from behind their computer screens and stacks of papers, dozens of pairs of eyes could be seen following the figure as it was led down the hallway to the observation office, the president of the 'company' rambling away like a salesman trying to suck in a deal.
"As you can see, this is a state-of-the-art facility with a full-time staff dedicated to making the transactions run as smoothly as possible. We have a fantastic medical staff on hand to care for the stock as well as physical and psychological trainers for all areas of interest. We're paving the road to the future in this industry, Prebassador Ligtech, one illegal black market trade at a time."
Jancon Ligtech glanced around the large command room with impressed interest. He was a young man in his mid to late twenties, incredibly handsome by his planet's standards, with beautiful charcoal colored skin and disheveled silver hair that matched his eyes, which were just one eerie shade darker than the whites surrounding them. There was a glint in those eyes that showed him, despite his distinguished clothes and well-mannered stature, for what he really was. A playboy. A pleasure junkie. The heir to a wealthy ambassadorial line who had taken too kindly to money.
"And, of course," The president continued with a large, fake smile. "As you can probably assume from the state of our facility, our stock is top of the line, kept in the best condition in the market."
"I've clearly come to the right place." Jancon mused with a small laugh.
"You're a first-time buyer, are you not?"
"Yes, I am. I'm just looking for something fun to help pass the time, you know?"
The president laughed shallowly. "What, not enough women on your planet to keep you busy?" A few employees within earshot had to hide behind their desks to cover their laughter. They had all heard about Jancon's recent exploits.
Jancon himself laughed and shrugged. "Sometimes you have to change it up a little. Anyway, you have anything for me?"
"Of course!" The president reached a stairwell that led up into the posh observation room and motioned for Jancon to follow. "Generally we don't do this – we usually separate out the stock we need to get rid of soon, or that fits the buyers budget, so they never really get a chance to see the whole supply. But then again, we've never had anyone as distinguished as yourself joining us." Jancon nodded a polite 'thanks' for the compliment. "So you can have your pick of the stock, if you find anything that fancies you. And I have no doubt you will."
The president opened the door and stepped back to allow Jancon in first. Jancon swept his eyes over the room, which was equipped with a handful of chairs and a leather sofa with a rich red carpet and comfortable low lighting. All the furniture was positioned to face one direction; a wall that was made completely of glass, overlooking an expansive room below.
"Incredible." Jancon commented flatly as he approached the clear wall and gazed down at the 'stock' room. In comparison to where he was standing, the stockroom was bleak, industrial, a stretch of grey walls with metal net fencing rising up to the tall ceiling above. The walls were lined with metal benches, where thirty or more men and women sat, huddled either alone or in small groups, in various states of neglect. There was not much movement or excitement below; the prisoners simply sat on display with nothing else to do.
Jancon's silver eyes raked across the scene, landing briefly on a woman with bright red hair, and then on a man with curious ocean-blue skin, the color of Earth's Caribbean. A small laugh escaped him as he noticed an Ood standing apart from the group. Finally, his eyes settled on a couple sitting in the corner, also separate from the rest. The female had her head resting on the male's lap, her blond hair falling over his legs as he ran a finger through the strands. He was saying something to her, his head bent down to look into her face so his own was partially concealed by his tousled brown hair, but then he looked up and glanced around, a protective glint in his eye that made Jancon shiver.
"That one." He said as he pointed towards the intriguing couple.
The president moved to the intercom positioned on a large, oak desk, smiling widely. "The female?" He asked in confirmation.
"No. The male." The members of the observation room – which consisted mostly of the president and a few staff members – exchanged amused and astonished looks that they quickly tried to hide.
The president gave a small laugh as he pressed the intercom button. "Bring MD196305 up to observation, please." He turned back to Jancon. "I hope you're ready for this, Prebassador. This one's a lot to handle."
Jancon saw it for himself a few moments later when the door to the stockroom was thrown open and a group of guards entered the room. Many of the prisoners looked up, shrinking away from the new presence. The blond female instantly took her head off the male's lap, sitting up as the male visibly tensed, drawing her closer to him with one shielding move.
"Is that his mate?" Jancon asked, indicating the blond girl.
"Yes," The president sighed as if the topic had a long story that had caused much stress. "They came in together not too long ago and are completely inseparable. You're going to have an interesting time handling this."
Jancon could see that as the guards approached the corner the two had been occupying, motioning at the male and saying something the small microphone in the room couldn't quite pick up. Whatever it was the man didn't seem to agree with it. He stood up quickly and stepped in front of his companion, shielding her. He was surprisingly tall and slim. He said something back to the guards, his face angled with the growl, as if daring them to try something. The woman stood up, gripping his arm, and snapped something at the guard as well. She was met with a gloved hand striking her across the face.
The male's reaction was instantaneous. He launched himself at the guard that hit his mate, shoving him backwards before spinning around to face her. Her hand was massaging the sudden redness on her cheek where she'd been struck. The male brushed his finger over it gently before he was suddenly dragged backwards by the arms. He struggled against them as another guard went to hold the female back, putting enough force on her shoulders so her knees buckled and struck the ground hard. The male swung and twisted viciously like a snake until he finally found a break from the rough hands.
He stumbled forward as he tripped over his own foot and landed on his knees in front of the distressed female. He wasted no time as his hands moved to cup her face, one thumb brushing away a frustrated and scared tear from her cheek, before drawing her into a deep, passionate kiss.
The kiss was cut short as the guards found their grip again on the male and pulled him backwards, cuffing his hands together behind his back. "NO!" The microphone suddenly picked up the female's voice as she shouted desperately. "DOCTOR!"
Jancon suddenly felt concerned about his decision. "Does she need medical attention?" The president just laughed.
"No, that's what she calls him. The Doctor."
"Was he a doctor before he came here?"
The president shrugged. "Who knows. Whatever he was or did, that's over now. We don't deal with the past, Prebassador Ligtech, only the future. And his future is now you."
There was noise coming from the staircase outside the observation room. They all turned to watch, Jancon having to tear his eyes away from the still struggling female below. The door opened as four guards led the male in. He wasn't struggling anymore, but his hands were still cuffed, immobilized, behind his back, and now he was sporting a gag. Jancon looked at the president with a questioning quirk of his eyebrow. "Company policy." The president explained. "Especially this one gets a bit mouthy around authority." Jancon looked back just in time to see the male roll his eyes. He neither looked scared nor angry, but there was something about him that set everyone in the room on edge. If Jancon had to bet his money – and he had a lot of that – he'd say it was his eyes. They were both young and old and twinkled darkly as if he knew a secret he wasn't about to share. Knowledge simply radiated out of those brown orbs, and Jancon couldn't find it within him to look away.
Suddenly the man's eyes looked away and found the glass wall overlooking the room he'd just left. Those eyes suddenly became impossibly sad as he watched the guard toss his companion aside. She landed on her hands and knees on the ground where she stayed, her body shaking slightly with poorly concealed sobs. Another female slowly made her way over as the guard left, knelt down, and wrapped one of her arms around the blond one's shoulders, pulling her close for comfort. Jancon was amazed to see tears glisten, unshed, in the male's eyes.
"His designation is MD196305, but if you decide to go through with the deal you may call him whatever you like, of course."
"Do I have to decide right now?"
"Of course not. We have a twenty-four hour policy in which you can make your decision before the stock's put back on the market. You cannot take him out with you during that time, but you are more than welcome to stay here and get yourself acquainted. We have some lovely guestrooms on the upper levels if you'd be interested."
"Yes, that would be fantastic, thanks." Jancon wasn't looking at the president as he spoke, but at the male, who, in turn, was staring back at him with a look of calm defiance.
"Would you like him brought to your room as well, or taken to another holding room in the meantime?"
Jancon thought for a moment, his mind frozen by the look in the prisoner's eyes. It was like staring into eternity, watching the world spin and time wind. Finally he found himself able to speak. "Yes, my room, please."
The male was dragged back to his feet and hauled from the room carelessly. The man didn't seem to protest. He kept his eyes on Jancon for as long as he could, the look penetrating the young prebassador.
"You have interesting taste, my friend." The president said as he threw an arm around Jancon's shoulders like a proud father. "And, I hope, a thick wallet, because this particular slave is not going to come out cheap."
A/N While I've already gotten a few chapters already written and sketched out, it'd be great to know what you think so far. The next chapter (Chapter 1) will show how our heroes got into this sticky situation in the first place, so hopefully you're interesting enough o continue to hear that story. Leave me a review to let me know and make me smile!