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Sweet as Sugar	By : Nemain Category: 1 through F > Doctor Who Views: 11034 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dr. Who, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Sweet as Sugar
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16
- 17-17
- 18-18
- 19-19
- 20-20
- 21-21
- 22-22
- 23-23
- 24-24
- 25-25
- 26-26
- 27-27
- 28-28
- 29-29
- 30-30
- 31-31
- 32-32
- 33-33
- 34-34
- 35-35
- 36-36
- 37-37
- 38-38
- 39-39
- 40-40
- 41-41
- 42-42
- 43-43
- 6
- 7
- 8
Sweet as Sugar Chapter Seven
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST
WOMAN ALIVE �, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta� *glomp* MUCHO thanks to Venefican
and Gomalley for eyeballing this!

Jack flexed
his fingers, trying to get the blood moving again. �Hey, tall, blue and sulking! Want to let me
down from here? Us
humans like to have circulation!�

�Silence
yourself, slave,� Bara replied, sounding bored beyond
tears. At least Jack assumed that�s what
the tone meant, as he had very little experience with Bara�s
moods. Jack�s captor pushed himself off
the bed, where he had been lounging with a slight, pale female that looked
human, her dark red hair a riot of curls tumbling down her back. He dismissed her with a click of his tongue,
like one would an over-affectionate dog, and prowled towards Jack like a
predatory beast scenting it�s prey. �Today is charmed,� he rumbled,
his voice like ocean waves.

�I�m sure,�
Jack sighed. He missed the physical restraints
from before. Those, he could escape from.
This force shield Bara was using, the conman
decided, was cruel and unusual punishment.
<i> It�s only fair to offer some chance
of escape. </i> �Look, this is fun and all, and I�m sure
you�re a great lay, but I�m not exactly up for rough and tumble right now. I suggest you let me down from here and tell
me how to get back to the Market.�

Bara smiled, a slow and easy smile
that seemed to change his face entirely.
He looked alive rather than carved of stone then, but rather than
friendly, the expression made him appear sinister. Something, Jack supposed,
that was pretty accurate. �The Market? My pet,
you�re not something I can return for credit.
You are mine.�

Jack
counted to ten mentally, careful to keep his face in a neutral expression. �Pet, huh?
Well, your pet needs walkies. Let me down.�
He tried pulling against the force field again but found it only made
him sore, muscles flexing and tensing uselessly.

�Walkies?� Bara
repeated slowly. �Is this an Earth term
of which I was not made aware?� He moved
closer to Jack and sniffed, reminding his captive forcibly of a pit bull he had
once seen on Old Earth, pre-World War VI.

�I have to
make use of the facilities. You know, bathroom? Loo? WC? I drank a lot of tea earlier,� he added,
raising a brow meaningfully. Something
hissed in the room past Bara, like a breath being
drawn through ancient lungs. �Your ghostie little friends still around?� he asked sharply, his
eyes peering into the dim, blue shadows of the room. �The ones who do your heavy
lifting?�

Bara tilted his head to one side as if listening to someone
whispering in his ear. �Ah, I understand
now,� he murmured, more to himself than to Jack. �It is almost time for the promenade. We have prime seats this afternoon for the
contest but first,� he paused and stepped back half a pace, putting distance
between himself and Jack, �your needs will be attended to.�

Jack opened
his mouth to respond but found himself falling.
He hit the floor hard, the force field that had been holding him several
feet off the floor and up against the smooth stone wall suddenly gone. Invisible hands dragged him to his feet and
pulled his arms, trying to make him move towards a dark alcove past Bara. �I pee alone,
thanks,� Jack announced, struggling against the unseen hands.

�You will
have guards no matter where you go,� Bara called as
Jack moved past him, half dragged and half carried by his guards. �Change into the ensemble provided. We leave shortly.�

Jack was
never a modest man, even before meeting The Doctor and Rose. It was not in his nature to be shy or
retiring. And he was comfortable with
every aspect of himself, even the grittier things like jealousy and
desire. However, he decided as he was
led on a fine golden leash down a long, blue and green stone promenade towards
massive double doors that seemed to shimmer with every color of the sea, he would be infinitely more comfortable in
trousers. �Hey, Bara,
look�if you�re gonna be parading me around, can you at least see about getting
these thongs that aren�t made of mesh? This kind of chafes.�
He glanced down at his state of undress and frowned. �And it�s not doing much for my boys, if you
know what I mean.�

�Silence yourself,� Bara repeated his early
admonition. �You will wear what you are
told, slave.� He swept an admiring,
proprietary gaze over Jack and pinched his bottom hard enough to leave a red
mark. �You are a fitting consort for the
sea king.�

�Great. I�m dating a tuna.� Jack gulped as the leash was tugged
sharply. �I know, I know,� he
sighed. �Silence myself.� He straightened his shoulders and looked
forward, refusing to let his discomfort show.
The promenade was silent but he felt as if he were being watched. Soft hissing noises seemed to follow them as
they moved closer to the doors, which, he noticed, were carved with complex
symbols, some of which resembled creatures but most of which seemed to be
ornate knotwork.
Bara tugged on the leash again and Jack took
the signal for what it was, a command to walk
faster.

The hissing sound grew more
pronounced, reminding Jack of waves hitting the shore, spraying against rocks
before sliding back out to sea. The
collar and leash prevented him from turning his head but he was sure now that
they were being watched and that whatever it was had been in Bara�s chambers as well, judging from the hissing
noise. �Are we near the water?� he
asked, bracing himself for another tug on the leash, which did not come.

Bara did not reply.
He was focused on the doors. As
they neared it, he raised his free hand, the one not holding the looped end of
the leash, and made a twisting motion.
The doors swung open silently, darkness like a wall before them. Jack�s indrawn breath was heard over the soft
hissing of the Sea People lining the promenade but Bara
paid him no mind. He led Jack into the
viewing chamber, his own private chamber at that, and snapped his fingers. The darkness shifted like a living thing and
became blue-green light, shimmering and flowing as if it were spilling through
sea water and glass. �This,� he
murmured, �is an honor. Normally, you
would have to be in my care for decades before even being allowed in the Temple
of the Lady. This is a special occasion, though. Her champion is taking on a newcomer� blood
will be spilled for The Lady this evening.�

Jack was
not sure how to respond to that. He
allowed himself to be led without struggling until they reached a low
crystalline bench. He sat down at a glance
from Bara, his brows knitting together as he realized
that the shimmering light before him was a panel of some sort, a glass to
separate them from what they were about to see.
The hissing sound followed them into the chamber and Jack felt crowded,
despite not seeing anyone there other than himself and Bara. Suddenly, the sound stopped. Bara sat up straight and leaned forward like an eager
child, his eyes wide and fingers clutching the leash tightly in his burgeoning
excitement.

The shimmering light became still
and Jack found his eyes drawn downward. They were elevated, he thought, like a
viewing platform. As he watched, the
now-still light cleared and revealed itself to be a glass like substance
overlooking a black, oval shaped ring.
Two figures were below, each at one end of the ring. One was very tall; Jack guessed seven or
eight feet, with long black hair. She
was naked, holding weapons he had never seen before. The other figure was considerably smaller,
already blood smeared, her hair shining in the subtle light of the room. He could not make out faces and defining
marks from his vantage point but the figure looked familiar. At some unheard signal, they began moving
towards each other, the tall figure like she was running and the shorter one
like she was in pain. Realization hit
him like a physical blow. <b>�ROSE!�</b>
- 6
- 7
- 8
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Sweet as Sugar