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Origins

Summary:
OriginsYes! It's another Doctor Who Crossover!It will also include my own character, Freyvarr. (to know more about her, you could read the first few chapters of my other story, ".She's Not In-between, Just Other.") All you really need to know about her is that she is a very beautiful and powerful vampire. This is set about 500 years after breaking dawnends. Time travelling, eh? Never know where you're gonna end up next... Oh yeah. And rated Teen, because Freyvarr is a dangerous catalyst for rating-worthy scenes...


Notes:
Hope you enjoy! Please reveiw!


3. The Perfect Evening - Flirtation and the English Language

Rating 4.5/5   Word Count 1081   Review this Chapter

The rest of the evening past in high spirits; the Doctor was enjoying himself despite the strangers' presence and was very greatly enjoying the presence of Freyvarr. Rose was a little tipsy and therefore willing to giggle at anything and Freyvarr herself was both pleased with and pleasing everyone. The others (who the Doctor later learnt went by the collective pronoun of "The Cullens") also seemed happy and never more so than when one or more of them seemed to be sharing an amusing secret of some sort. They were all seated around a table supposedly sipping champagne, but the Doctor couldn't help but notice that only Rose's (and his own) glass seemed to have been at all sipped. They were all, however, absorbing the atmosphere of their location in the large hall of earlier, which had been transformed into a dining hall full of candlelight tables, many chairs and, of course, diners. Freyvarr excused herself at one point though to talk to “dearest Elizabeth!” one of her “oldest and most beloved friends” whom she had "quite longed to see” and she was followed by the Cullens, who, it seemed, followed her most places. Without her, the atmosphere seemed suddenly flat and dull. There was a short pause before the intoxicated Rose snorted and then giggled.

“What’s up with you?”

“You are so flirting with Freyvarr!” she laughed hysterically.

“I am so not.”

“You so are!”

“Am not! Why would I be flirting with her? What are you accusing me of? It’s not like I have done anything wrong . . . and I am so not flirting!”

“You,” she said whilst poking his nose to indicate that she definitely meant him, “are getting stressy.”

“I’m not. I’m calm. Really calm. And so not flirting.”

“Okay. I believe you.” There was something in her voice however that said “I don’t believe you. I’m just playing along sarcastically so that you will get even more annoyed.”

“You’re annoying,” he said.

“I know.”

Freyvarr and company soon sat down again at the table.

“You two are so cute,” said Freyvarr.

“This might be a good time for you to know that we have very good hearing,” commented a slightly amused Cullen (the Doctor didn't know which - it was one of the females with dark hair, but he could only remember Alice and it wasn't her).

“Not to mention the mental capability for listening to at least five conversations at once and following them all," said another.

“Not that we make a habit of eavesdropping," said the eldest female, in what seemed to be a warning tone.

“Not ever.”

“Wouldn’t dare.”

“Eavesdropping is a strange word, isn’t it?” muttered the giggly Rose.

“Eaves... dropping...” the Doctor extended these words to their full might. “Conjures up strange images.”

“I always think the word flirtatious sounds really flirtatious too. Yet “a flirt” doesn’t sound like someone who is flirtatious does it? It sounds like someone who has got stuck down a French toilet. Flirt," Rose continued. The Doctor was sure this was a purposeful reference to their previous conversation.

“Flirt," he muttered, "Depends how you say it.”

“You could say that about tons of words.”

“Like what?”

“Like anything.”

“Example?”

“Yeah. Anything. You could say anything loads of ways. Like ‘I don’t have anything to eat’ or ‘I don’t think it has anything to do with you’”

“They sounded the same!”

“They didn’t.”

“They sounded the same to me.”

“Maybe you just can’t pick up on the subtle intonations of the English language.” Ah. Evidently Rose was tipsy, but not intoxicated enough to be inarticulate.

“Or maybe you’re talking rubbish.”

“How rude!”

The Cullens watched this dialogue with mild interest until both the Doctor and Rose turned to them as if only just remembering their presence. "How rude indeed Rose," said Freyvarr, "But we are all capable of being rude."

“I shouldn’t think in all my life that you were capable of being rude,” replied the Doctor, despite himself.

“You think that now, but I am quite capable of being a demon in disguise.”

“Are you really?”


“I am indeed. I have offended their Majesties the Queens of England themselves. Two of them at least."


“That is not a very great achievement. I should imagine that I have offended many more queens of England than that.”

“But,” she responded, her tone becoming smooth and a strange glint in her eye, “I doubt you have offended them by sleeping with their sons.”

At this unexpected mention of sex from Freyvarr, the Doctor made an indistinct gurgling sound and accidently bit the side of his mouth, causing him to jerk backwards at the pain and almost topple off his chair. This crisis seemed averted until he put a hand on the table to steady himself and instead knocked over a glass, which was thankfully empty. This however, did not prevent it smashing with an awful crash as it rolled off the table and fell to the floor. A waiter hurried to pick up the shards, the Cullens looked at him, distracted from their own conversation and half of the other diners in the room were also intently staring.

Only one gaze truly perturbed the Doctor though and it was unfortunately the one that had been placed in front of him in the form of Freyvarr. He was also vaguely aware that her leaning only slightly across the table towards him had displayed a dangerous addition amount of cleavage. “Are you disturbed by what I told you?” she asked in that voice, that teasing, delicious voice, whilst one finger slowly traced the lip of her own glass. The Doctor whimpered quietly.

One part of his mind, the proud Time Lord, was slowly dying of embarrassment. Another part of his brain, labelled “witty comments” was searching its archives and finding nothing to suit this situation and another part, one which he believed to have only awoken when he met Rose, was mentally undressing her. Various other parts of his mind were trying to suppress this last part and having very little luck. He groaned. This was not going well. Not going well at all.

“Doctor?” there was a look of honest concern on her face now. He had been silent for a very long time. At least most people had stopped looking at him after the glass incident. “I am going to... go somewhere... walk or something...” he said.