doctor who :: doctor/river :: "throwing rocks at her window"
Title: Visions Of Time Lords Danced In Her Head
Rating: PG-13
Length: 1066 words
Characters: River, the Doctor, Amy, Rory
Notes: My brain interpreted this prompt as blatantly fluffy Christmas!fic... thought I'd get that warning out up front. Rated a little higher for some hints towards a smutty scene that ended up cut.
Summary: "There is a strange sound coming from outside her second story window, and River Song, in the grand tradition set by her husband, has the strongest urge to go poke it with a stick."
There is a strange sound coming from outside her second story window, and River Song, in the grand tradition set by her husband, has the strongest urge to go poke it with a stick.
Instead, she lies still in bed, snuggled deep down in her covers at the Pond residence, listening intently and trying to discern it's origin. It's almost like a tinkling, at first, like hail, but then the sound changes, as something larger and more insistent begins to bang.
There are two natures at war inside of her - one that of a small child, allowing herself to imagine the sound as the landing of dozens of hooves on the snow covered roof; the other that of a trained killer, senses heightened, aware of everything, ready to flee or fight as necessary.
There it is again - this time a definite thwack! against her window - and finally she can stand the suspense no longer. She pulls herself out of bed, blanket pulled tight around her shivering form, and moves to unlatch the window.
Seconds after she's opened it, a face pops in, ridiculous mop of hair wet with snow, cheeks flushed with cold and grinning like a madman. Her husband, the idiot.
"Hi honey, I'm home!"
"And what sort of time do you call this?"
"It's still Christmas, isn't it? I meant to hit Christma-AH!" he nearly slips off of the ladder he's been climbing up - where did he even get a ladder at this time of night? - and she grabs his arm and pulls him all the way in, a little rougher than strictly necessary.
"Of course it's Christmas, sweetie. But I was expecting you to break me out of Stormcage days ago. I had to break myself out, you know, and I'm afraid the warden might be less than amused by my use of mistletoe."
"Ah, but that would have involved breaking you out," he informs her matter-of-factly, punctuating the words with a tap to her nose (his fingers are freezing, but the action still sends warmth flooding through her body). "This is even better. This is me breaking myself in."
She rolls her eyes at him, fondly, and presses a greeting kiss against his lips. "If you say so, dear. The important thing is that you're here. Amy's parents arrived this afternoon, and she's been promising them they could meet you properly. She was sure… well, we were all starting to think you wouldn't show."
He waves his hands about in the air dramatically. "Here I am!"
She giggles quietly, keeping her voice down as not to wake her parents. "Yes, here you are. Although I question your strategy a bit. Didn't anyone ever tell you not to startle an assassin?" She pulls him closer by his lapels, her warm breath hovering inches away from his lips once again.
He scrunches his face up. "I was throwing rocks at your window. It's romantic! Don't you know anything, Doctor Song?"
She grins cheekily, and finally closes the distance between them to give him another, deeper kiss. "I know romance, darling. And it was lovely. Now take off your clothes."
She helps him out of his cold, wet clothes, and he shivers slightly as the winter air hits his all but bare skin for the first time. They giggle like schoolchildren as they chase each other into the safety of her warm covers.
He settles himself in her tiny bed (she wonders for the first time if it was chosen intentionally by her parents - payback for the Doctor's bunk beds, perhaps, or else a deterrent in general against any late night shenanigans with their daughter), and he pulls her back tight against him, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck and letting out a long, contented sigh.
"Sweetie?"
He doesn't answer, not at first - she can feel his heartbeats slowing rapidly against her back - but he makes a small noise in the back of his throat in acknowledgement.
"Where is the TARDIS? I didn't see her outside when I opened the window."
The Doctor contemplates feigning sleep to get himself out of this one. But his wife shifts expectantly in his arms, facing him now, and as he stealthily lifts one eyelid, he can indeed confirm the suspicious expression on her face.
"I… landed her." River's expression doesn't change. "I may have miscalculated, just a bit. I hate to admit it, you know, but you're so much better at landing her on big, exciting holidays, and…"
"… flattery will get you nowhere, dear. Miscalculated how, exactly?"
"Let's just say, I know what I'm getting the Ponds for Christmas." Her mind immediately flashes back to the shiny new toolshed her father had spent a long weekend assembling, and had shown off to anyone who would listen with great pride, and she winces.
She's amused, but not envious of the talking-to he'll get from Rory in the morning, and she presses a sympathetic kiss to his collarbone as she feels them both drift towards sleep.
"Happy Christmas, my love."
"Happy Christmas, River."
In the world tonight, millions of children lie awake, dreaming of a jolly old man bringing gifts and high spirits and the promise of adventure, and as sleep overtakes River, she is satisfied to know that hers has already found her.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
It's ironic, really. Time Lady, and all, and she's terribly misjudged the time.
"Mother!" she starts as she opens her bedroom door early Christmas morning (the Doctor would never admit to it, of course, but he's a terrible snorer, and anyway she had had to pee). She hadn't expected anyone awake, or she would have put on something more substantial then the Doctor's shirt.
"River." Amy swallows hard, her mind clearly warring with the positive implications of this, and the… not so positive. Finally, she settles on, "The Doctor's here, then, is he?"
The Doctor may not believe his wife capable of blushing, but she's always been one to prove him wrong. "Yes. He got here late last night, otherwise we would have woken you…"
Amy frowns slightly. "Where did he park the TARDIS? Rory's just stepped outside to show your grandfather the new shed, and…"
"DOCTOR!" The Roman's frustrated cry can be heard from the second story, and River can't help but grin. This was definitely going to be a Christmas to remember.
Rating: PG-13
Length: 1066 words
Characters: River, the Doctor, Amy, Rory
Notes: My brain interpreted this prompt as blatantly fluffy Christmas!fic... thought I'd get that warning out up front. Rated a little higher for some hints towards a smutty scene that ended up cut.
Summary: "There is a strange sound coming from outside her second story window, and River Song, in the grand tradition set by her husband, has the strongest urge to go poke it with a stick."
There is a strange sound coming from outside her second story window, and River Song, in the grand tradition set by her husband, has the strongest urge to go poke it with a stick.
Instead, she lies still in bed, snuggled deep down in her covers at the Pond residence, listening intently and trying to discern it's origin. It's almost like a tinkling, at first, like hail, but then the sound changes, as something larger and more insistent begins to bang.
There are two natures at war inside of her - one that of a small child, allowing herself to imagine the sound as the landing of dozens of hooves on the snow covered roof; the other that of a trained killer, senses heightened, aware of everything, ready to flee or fight as necessary.
There it is again - this time a definite thwack! against her window - and finally she can stand the suspense no longer. She pulls herself out of bed, blanket pulled tight around her shivering form, and moves to unlatch the window.
Seconds after she's opened it, a face pops in, ridiculous mop of hair wet with snow, cheeks flushed with cold and grinning like a madman. Her husband, the idiot.
"Hi honey, I'm home!"
"And what sort of time do you call this?"
"It's still Christmas, isn't it? I meant to hit Christma-AH!" he nearly slips off of the ladder he's been climbing up - where did he even get a ladder at this time of night? - and she grabs his arm and pulls him all the way in, a little rougher than strictly necessary.
"Of course it's Christmas, sweetie. But I was expecting you to break me out of Stormcage days ago. I had to break myself out, you know, and I'm afraid the warden might be less than amused by my use of mistletoe."
"Ah, but that would have involved breaking you out," he informs her matter-of-factly, punctuating the words with a tap to her nose (his fingers are freezing, but the action still sends warmth flooding through her body). "This is even better. This is me breaking myself in."
She rolls her eyes at him, fondly, and presses a greeting kiss against his lips. "If you say so, dear. The important thing is that you're here. Amy's parents arrived this afternoon, and she's been promising them they could meet you properly. She was sure… well, we were all starting to think you wouldn't show."
He waves his hands about in the air dramatically. "Here I am!"
She giggles quietly, keeping her voice down as not to wake her parents. "Yes, here you are. Although I question your strategy a bit. Didn't anyone ever tell you not to startle an assassin?" She pulls him closer by his lapels, her warm breath hovering inches away from his lips once again.
He scrunches his face up. "I was throwing rocks at your window. It's romantic! Don't you know anything, Doctor Song?"
She grins cheekily, and finally closes the distance between them to give him another, deeper kiss. "I know romance, darling. And it was lovely. Now take off your clothes."
She helps him out of his cold, wet clothes, and he shivers slightly as the winter air hits his all but bare skin for the first time. They giggle like schoolchildren as they chase each other into the safety of her warm covers.
He settles himself in her tiny bed (she wonders for the first time if it was chosen intentionally by her parents - payback for the Doctor's bunk beds, perhaps, or else a deterrent in general against any late night shenanigans with their daughter), and he pulls her back tight against him, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck and letting out a long, contented sigh.
"Sweetie?"
He doesn't answer, not at first - she can feel his heartbeats slowing rapidly against her back - but he makes a small noise in the back of his throat in acknowledgement.
"Where is the TARDIS? I didn't see her outside when I opened the window."
The Doctor contemplates feigning sleep to get himself out of this one. But his wife shifts expectantly in his arms, facing him now, and as he stealthily lifts one eyelid, he can indeed confirm the suspicious expression on her face.
"I… landed her." River's expression doesn't change. "I may have miscalculated, just a bit. I hate to admit it, you know, but you're so much better at landing her on big, exciting holidays, and…"
"… flattery will get you nowhere, dear. Miscalculated how, exactly?"
"Let's just say, I know what I'm getting the Ponds for Christmas." Her mind immediately flashes back to the shiny new toolshed her father had spent a long weekend assembling, and had shown off to anyone who would listen with great pride, and she winces.
She's amused, but not envious of the talking-to he'll get from Rory in the morning, and she presses a sympathetic kiss to his collarbone as she feels them both drift towards sleep.
"Happy Christmas, my love."
"Happy Christmas, River."
In the world tonight, millions of children lie awake, dreaming of a jolly old man bringing gifts and high spirits and the promise of adventure, and as sleep overtakes River, she is satisfied to know that hers has already found her.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
It's ironic, really. Time Lady, and all, and she's terribly misjudged the time.
"Mother!" she starts as she opens her bedroom door early Christmas morning (the Doctor would never admit to it, of course, but he's a terrible snorer, and anyway she had had to pee). She hadn't expected anyone awake, or she would have put on something more substantial then the Doctor's shirt.
"River." Amy swallows hard, her mind clearly warring with the positive implications of this, and the… not so positive. Finally, she settles on, "The Doctor's here, then, is he?"
The Doctor may not believe his wife capable of blushing, but she's always been one to prove him wrong. "Yes. He got here late last night, otherwise we would have woken you…"
Amy frowns slightly. "Where did he park the TARDIS? Rory's just stepped outside to show your grandfather the new shed, and…"
"DOCTOR!" The Roman's frustrated cry can be heard from the second story, and River can't help but grin. This was definitely going to be a Christmas to remember.