Title: Direct Approach
Description: Prompt was Sarah/Three
The two of them looked around the room they had been led to. Apparently, the owner of the house had assumed they were married.
"There's only one bed. I can sleep in one of the chairs." He sat down. "See, I'll be quite comfortable."
That was the Doctor. Always proper. Sarah was getting tired of propriety.
"My dear Sarah, what are you doing?" Despite several chairs scattered throughout the bedroom, she had chosen to sit on his lap. It was quite distracting. Especially when she started unbuttoning his jacket.
"Undressing you." She slid his jacket off and tossed it on a chair before starting on his shirt.
"And you're doing this because?" He should stop her. This wasn't right.
"I got tired of flirting and never getting any further. This isn't the first time someone assumed we were sleeping together. And let's not even mention the catamite incident. Thought I'd try the direct approach." She finished with the shirt and tossed it on top of the jacket, sliding fingers over cool skin.
"You've been drugged or something is controlling you. You're not yourself, Sarah." His shirt would be wrinkled but her fingers were exploring every inch of skin, making it difficult to think.
"No, you just don't know me very well. It is the seventies after all. Free love and all that. And don't you dare tell me it isn't proper." She bent her head and added her tongue to the mix and he was lost.
"I wouldn't dream of it." He suddenly gathered her in his arms and stood.
She looked up at him and smiled, tangling her fingers in his hair and kissing him fiercely.
Somehow, he managed to find the bed, despite the obstruction of his vision. He dropped her down on the bed, and let her pull him down on top of her.
His last rational thought was that the bed was much more comfortable than the chair would have been.
The catamite incident she referred to is in The Ghosts of N-Space (1996 radio play)