the tie that binds, and binds, and binds
Title: the tie that binds, and binds, and binds
Fandom/Characters: Doctor Who, River/Eleven
Rating: E (explicit)
Wordcount: 5,100
Warning: A bit cracky? Also it's rated E for a reason, explicit sex, some anal play - if that's not your thing, don't read :)
Summary: But he’s too scattered and panicking, and this entire day has felt like he’s just been running to catch up, ever since he first laid eyes on that home box in the museum.
A/N: So this was a smut add in prompt for Flesh and Stone. It is kind of crack, but deliciously smut filled crack. I'll reiterate my above warning - if you don't like anal play, don't read it :) If you're not sure - well give it a go, lol ;)
the tie that binds, and binds, and binds
The fact that he can think about a million things at once is often a blessing and a curse. His mind is never quiet, never centered, never fully focussed. There is always something else, running through, and more than likely it is several hundred somethings.
It’s a blessing because he’s running through three hundred and forty seven different possibilities to save Amy from the countdown that is drastically dwindling - he can practically feel the time pressing against his back. Seconds. But he’s too scattered and panicking, and this entire day has felt like he’s just been running to catch up, ever since he first laid eyes on that home box in the museum. Vision centers of the brain, located in the occipital lobe, passing through the super colliculus - the optic disk might be- no, no, no, useless.
“Doctor, she’s got seconds.” River’s voice is urgent, but unerringly calm and he looks at her in surprise. Her eyes are fastened on Amy’s vital signs, but one hand is rubbing Amy’s shoulder - she is comforting his companion.
“How would you starve your lungs?” The question skates across his brain from nowhere and he can’t even pinpoint where it came from, but River is answering regardless, not even pausing to question the utter ridiculousness of it.
“I - I’d stop breathing.” She doesn’t lift her eyes and he licks his lips, as realization bursts across his brain in a shower of light.
“Amy, close your eyes!” He looks away from River, down at Amy who is shaking her head and refusing. “Good. Cause that’s not you, that’s the angel inside you - it’s afraid.” He moves toward her, she has to close her eyes and he can feel River’s gaze on him now, finally. “Do it, close your eyes.” He meets River’s eyes for a moment before nodding down at Amy who finally, finally shuts her eyes.
The device in River’s hand goes wild for a moment and they both stare at it as it reverts to normal. “She’s normalizing.” River speaks in a hushed tone, and she breathes a sigh of relief, looking up at him. “You did it.” She whispers, her eyes fastened on his and he breathes out in relief too, smiling slightly because for all her calm earlier, she is all but shaking with relief as she looks at him. Her eyes are alight and he grins a bit more. “You did it.” She breathes the words out as he sits back on his heels with a smug grin.
The clerics spread out more and his mind skips ahead, like a stone on water, thinking past the problem at hand to the larger issue of angels and cracks in the universe and how impossible? He pauses at that thought - watching River help Amy sit up carefully. She keeps an arm around the younger girl, and he wonders for a split second - how well does River know Amy? They need to get to the flight control deck and he is mapping it out in his head, pushing mental pins into the map in his head every time the clerics call out an angel sighting. She speaks his language and she felt like she fit him when he’d caught her, hurtling through space. Who does that? Who does that? Flings themselves out into the vacuum of space with only the faith that he would get a message she sent to some point 12,000 years in the future? He watches her and thinks on it even as more than half his mind is racing racing racing onwards to cracks in the walls and he has to analyze the data he scanned - she told Octavian she trusted him with her life. And she must, because she has, several times already. Spacejumps, and realizing they were surrounded by angels and rewiring power supply cables in the dark with a steady hand that he’d felt the need to touch. Who was she?
River checks Amy’s pressure and looks at him as she removes the cuff. “Still weak. Dangerous to move her.”
“So can I open my eyes now?” Amy frowns in confusion, and the Doctor sighs. If he’s been scrambling to catch up - to the angels, to his brain, to River Song- he’s been dragging poor Amy along five feet behind him.
“Amy listen to me, if you open your eyes now for more than a second, you will die.” Amy looks to River, and River wraps an arm around her back. “The angel is still inside you, we haven’t stopped it, we’ve just... sort of... paused it.” He looks down as he explains, the weight of the adventures pressing down on him. So much time energy swirling around them and he feels the weight of it all. “You’ve used up your countdown; you cannot open your eyes.” As he speaks River’s hand is rubbing soothing circles across Amy’s back, sliding over her shoulder and hugging Amy to her side. She must know Amy very well, which must obviously mean that they would be seeing a great deal of River in the immediate future. He isn’t sure how he feels about that. There is an odd sense of excitement but when he looks at her he sometimes sees that same expression - the one that had been on her face right before she’d died - and he always has to swallow and look away. He looks at her, and sees those last moments - like double vision.
“We’re too exposed here, we have to move on.” Octavian points out the painfully obvious and the Doctor sighs, standing up to face the cleric.
“We’re too exposed everywhere, and Amy can’t move and anyway - that’s not the plan.” Flight deck. He needs the flight deck and he needs a clever solution, so he needs - he looks down at her, sitting with Amy.
“There’s a plan?” She sounds entirely unsurprised and he smiles as he turns away to pace. She is distracting. Watching her with Amy is distracting - thinking about the fact that if this doesn’t work out he’s lead Amy to her death is distracting.
“I dunno yet - I haven’t finished talking.” He jumps onto a tree root and glances around at the angels scattered amongst the trees. “Right, Father. You and your clerics, you’re gonna stay here, look after Amy. If anything happens to her, I will hold every single one of you personally responsible. Twice.” He glances around at each of the clerics, as if his words and stare alone can impress upon them the weight of the task he is giving them. “River, you and me - we’re gonna go find the primary flight deck. Which is..” He licks a finger and holds it up for show, while his mind speeds through the schematics for the Byzantium he’d glanced through while in the entrance to the caves, “quarter of a mile, straight ahead and from there we’re gonna stabilize the wreckage, stop the angels and cure Amy.” He turns and hops down to find River looking up at him, arm still around Amy.
“How?”
“I’ll do a thing.” He states, looking down at her and she shakes her head, meeting his gaze.
“What thing?”
“I dunno, it’s a thing in progress, respect the thing!” He chastises her and moves past her with a clap. “Moving out!”
“Doctor,” Octavian approaches and the Doctor stares, weary. Churches - filled with good men, usually blinded by faith, he’s always found. “I’m coming with you. My clerics will look after Miss Pond, these are my best men - they’d lay down their lives in her protection.” Octavian insisted and the Doctor stared at him, trying to figure out the man’s angle.
“I don’t need you.” He shakes his head - the more eyes with Amy, the better, and he and River will handle things a lot faster without the presence of the man before him. It makes no sense, really, but Octavian has been hovering around River since he arrived, and the Doctor didn’t like it. He avoids thinking about just why, however, by thinking instead about the fact that they were trapped in a spaceship surrounded by lonely assassins.
“I don’t care.” Octavian states calmly as River joins them. “Where Dr. Song goes, I go.”
“What?” His skin crawls at the implication and he looks to River who simply crosses her arms and looks back, her face, as usual, giving nothing away. “Are you two engaged or something?” It’s an odd question, but it blurts out of his mouth without much forethought, because it’s an idea that has been unwinding along the back of his mind, slithering through the recessed corners of his brain. Octavian has been turning to her, they’ve been whispering, and standing far too close for his liking. Everything within him rejects the thought. He does not know who she is, or how they met. He does not know much about River Song at all, but he knows what he saw on her face in that Library. He knows how she looked at him in Asgaard. She knows his name - and that is the most closely guarded secret he has. So no, she cannot - simply cannot be involved with this stoic, blinded-by-his-own faith man.
“Yes,” Octavian responds, and the smirk slides off of the Doctor’s face instantly. “In a manner of speaking.” The Doctor glances at River quickly but she simply raises her brows in amusement - but is she laughing at his assumptions or him or Octavian? “Marco-” Octavian starts to speak and the Doctor holds up a hand, suddenly, inexplicably angry. Well, it was quite explicable, he knows, but he forges ahead, ignoring the thirty-seven percent of his brain that is laughing at him.
“I don’t think you understood me before, Father.” The Doctor speaks calmly and Octavian looks at him in surprise. “You called me here, and you put my friend at risk - she could die because the Church felt the need to involve itself with this angel. Isn’t that always the way, eh? The more eyes with Amy, the better - and I need River with me because this is a very tricky problem that will require a very genius solution and frankly you’re less than useless to me for that. I don’t care if you’re on your bloody honeymoon, she comes, you stay, and that’s final.” Octavian and River both stare at him.
“But sir,”
“No. She’s not going anywhere, she’ll be with me, and I’ll keep an eye on her, promise.” The Doctor claps the older man on the shoulder, ignoring his second protest, and River says nothing but stands aside as the Doctor moves over to sit by Amy.
“You’ll be safer here; we can’t protect you on the move. I’ll be back for you as soon as I can, I promise.” He nudged her shoulder and she glanced away, her eyes still tightly shut.
“You always say that.”
“I always come back.” He glances around to see Octavian glaring at him from across the way and River standing near the edge of the clearing in the direction he’d told her earlier. He stands and looks at the Clerics. “Good luck everyone, and do not let that girl open her eyes. And keep watching the forests, stop those angels advancing.” He looks down at Amy and pats her on the head, his mind already in the woods, skipping ahead. “Amy, later. River, gonna need your computer!” He heads toward River who turns and makes her way into the woods. He trails after her, finally catching up a good several yards away.
He is thinking of Amy, back there, surrounded by angels, and he is thinking about the problem at hand - where is that crack coming from, and is it an advantage or a disadvantage? The angels will be draining the power, and if he can - maybe... it might work. He is also thinking of how the woman ahead of him felt in his arms, pressing him into his TARDIS floor, and he is thinking about her poker face and about her - “How can you be engaged in a manner of speaking?” He walks up behind her, invading her space and she turns to look at him, a smile on her face. She doesn’t back down though, in fact quite the opposite; she meets him halfway, stepping into his own space as she looks up at him.
“Sucker for a man in uniform?” She asks, and he can see the amusement on her face and he raises his brows as he looks down at her incredulously. He feels like everything around him slides to a halt, and his whole brain turns and focuses on her. It is almost startling, because it’s not something he’s used to, but he looks at the light in her eyes or the shadows on her face, the smirk tilting the corner of her mouth-
“Liar.” He breathes the word out and she laughs, her head thrown back, before she turns and continues walking. “Are you going to explain?” He scurries after her, always running to catch up with her, it seems.
“Why? Jealous?” She throws the question over her shoulder and he reaches ahead, snagging her by the elbow and dragging her back toward him. She stumbles backwards, tripping into him and he puts his hands at her waist to steady her. When she stands again, he steps in front of her, walking forward until she has to back up.
“I’m not jealous.” He splutters and she grins as her back hits the bark of a treeborg. She arches a brow and looks up at him, clearly not convinced. “I’m not.”
“Really?”
“Yes really. Mind you I may have been under the impression that we - but clearly I was wrong.” He shrugs and starts opening pockets in her utility belt busily.
“We’re not engaged you daft idiot.” She points out, and slaps his hands away.
“Then why is it he can’t seem to be more than five feet from you at all times?” He leans in as he asks - time is nudging the back of his mind but he pushes it away. He needs to know this.
“Because - because,” she swallows and he pushes in closer, until he is all but pressed against her, and just like on the floor of the TARDIS, she fits into him in all the right places. Soft against him, curved where he is straight. As if she is bespoke for him. Who is she? His mind can only chant one response, no matter who she is - she is clearly his. “He’s responsible for me.”
“How?” His hips press into hers and she swallows, he is close enough that he can see the sweat at her temples, the wisps of curls escaping their confines, and the scent of her is electric, sharp - refreshing and fresh as he inhales sharply, his face dropping closer to hers. He doesn’t know what he’s doing - but he feels literally, mentally, and physically incapable of doing anything else. “Tell me, River.”
She licks her lips and looks up at him. Her breath stutters in her throat before she glances down and away. “He released me from the Stormcage four days ago. If we survive, this will go toward me earning my pardon.” His hands grip her waist tightly and he stares down at her in disbelief. He’d never thought - but why-
“Why are you in prison?” He asks, knowing she won’t tell him and as he expects, she smiles enigmatically up at him.
“Spoilers.” He swallows because he knows what that means. It means - it means that whatever reason she is in prison, he had a hand in putting her there. What has he done to her life? Will do to her life? His fingers spread, sliding up along her ribs, and her breath catches as she tilts her head back to look up at him. “Doctor,” she breathes out his name in question and he meets her gaze head on.
He finds himself, rather insanely, wanting to kiss her. But that is stupidly dangerous in a forest filled with creatures that will kill them as soon as their eyes close. So instead he leans down and moves to her left, his mouth just brushing against the soft skin of her cheek. She gasps at the contact and he cannot help but dart his tongue out, just a taste, he just wants to know what she tastes like. She hitches out a breathy moan at that, and his hands grip her ribs tightly in response. She tastes... exquisite. Like something indefinable, but it bursts across his tongue and leaves him wanting more. “What are you doing?” She asks in a high, breathy tone that slides down his spine and does things to him.
He pulls back, looking down at her face, hair pulled back and his vision swims for a moment, seeing her weeping silent tears. Hush now. He shakes his head and bends it once more, this time to press a deliberate kiss against the side of her throat. Despite her verbal protest, she tilts her head accommodatingly, and her hands wrap around his biceps, gripping him tightly. He kisses and sucks at her neck and every second he tastes her skin, he wants more - and more - and all of her. There is a primal urge stirring within him, and he cannot explain it, but Octavian had pressed in too close to her, and he wanted to erase it from his memory. His palms slid up and over her breasts, and she gasps, her head pushing back into the bark as her hips push into his. “Don’t close your eyes.” He mumbles the words against her skin and she moans, but he feels her nod above him.
“Doctor, you - you can’t-”
“Shhh. I need to think, River, and you are distracting. I need to - to focus.” She lets out a soft oh above him and he is unbuttoning her uniform top, quick, quicker. It falls open and he yanks the shirt out of her pants, his hands running along the smooth skin of her stomach. “Oh, what?” He asks in distraction as he works the t-shirt up past her breasts, but her bra is still in the way, a sheer black thing that makes him catch his breath as he bends down, wrapping his mouth around one nipple, over the fabric. He wets it with his tongue and she gasps, her hands flying to his hair and twisting there.
“I didn’t think you - you would know this young-” And he smiles against her skin because he knows he is right - he’ll think better after this - he just needs a minute, just five minutes - okay maybe ten minutes, he thinks as he rolls her nipple under his tongue and her fingers tighten in his hair, but it sends tingles shooting down his back and he groans, biting the soft breast in front of him before he moves to the other one to repeat his actions. Ten minutes - six hundred seconds, he thinks, focussing on her every noise, her every reaction above him. “Doctor!” She gasps his name, and he drops his hands to her waist, as he presses soft kisses to her neck, careful to keep his body hunched down and to the left, so as not to obscure her view. Seventy-nine seconds gone and he needs to hurry up.
“Do you run River?” He is undoing her belt as he asks and she blinks down at him in confusion. “No, no, no - look up, look up! Eyes open, River.” He scolds as he opens the button and eases the zipper down - fifteen seconds and there is no time. His hand pushes past the elastic of her knickers, long fingers stretching and burying themselves through soft curls. She gasps when he finally slides them along slick flesh. “Ohhhh, there you are. River.” He presses his forehead to her temple, and watches her face. She is bloody gorgeous, he thinks as he slips two fingers down between her thighs. “My bad girl.” He murmurs the words and her eyes widen, her skin flushes with red and her breathing increases.
“How long?” She pants out and he does the math quickly, licking at her ear, because it is right there.
“Four hundred and seventy-one seconds.” He whispers it right in her ear, his lips brushing against the shell and she nods, her eyes darting around, and her hands reaching between them, to fumble with the opening of his own trousers.
“Oh I do love a good quickie, sweetie.” She grins in triumph as her hands slips into his trousers, and he groans, dropping his head to her shoulder. “Oh, somebody’s happy to see me.” She sighs the words and his hips thrust into her hand, even as his own fingers slip inside of her, mapping silken walls and curling as far as he can plausibly reach. Even as he’s doing it, his mind feels like it is crystallizing - focussing and centering on one point. Her fingers pull and drag, and she presses her back into the bark, her eyes still darting all around them and breathy little moans escaping her throat. “Admit it,” she breathes out, “you were jealous.”
“Should I have been?” He mumbles the words into the camouflage fabric covering her shoulder, his eyes shut tightly as her grip tightens and her hand slides down slowly. Her fingers stretch down and her nails scrape lower and lower and he shudders even as his own hand works in and out of her as quickly as he can, his thumb pressed against her clit.
“Not even for half a second, my love.” She pants the words out and he pulls his hands from her knickers, pushing her trousers down to her ankles and sliding her knickers along with them. They tangle around her boots and he stares, loosing ten seconds as he wonders- “Oh you daft idiot, come here.” She tugs him closer and braces her hands around his waist, turning and pushing him back so his back is to the tree. “Don’t blink.” She breathes his own instructions back to him, and pulls open his fly enough to ease his stiff erection out. He hisses in relief and she pushes down on his shoulders until he’s leaning against the tree, somewhat slouched down, his knees bent slightly. “Oh you take direction so well dear.” She breathes out, leaning in to bite the side of his neck, and he yelps in surprise, his hands reaching for her again, fingers outstretched toward her warmth and wetness. “Ah, ah, ah.” She pulls back, licking her lips and shaking her head. “Three hundred and twenty seconds left, no time to waste dear.”
He’s dazed and astounded, because he knows she is right - exactly right about the seconds they have dripping off them, and swirling all around them. She turns her back to him and presses her rather spectacular arse against his erection, wriggling there for a moment. Then she spreads her legs as wide as she can, and bends at the waist. “Oh, my god.” He breathes the words out, staring down at the roundness of her bum pressed against his groin. His erection is trapped between the cheeks, glistening in the low light and she is looking straight ahead.
“Come on,” She wriggles back against him and he jumps into action, gripping his erection and pushing it down, guiding it into her slick heat with ease. She is really just the perfect height for this, he thinks as his hips sink forward, his hands steadying her, since she has nothing to balance against at all, really. He pumps in and out of her - the angle is deep and delicious and rather tight and she moans and he repeats her sound. “Doctor,”
“Oh you are a perfect fit. Of course you are - of course you are.” The seconds are winding down in his head and he begins to move in earnest now, bracing his back against the tree behind him, and pulling her hips against his with quick tugs.
“Doctor.” Her voice is higher pitched this time and he looks past her and sees it - just on the crest of the hill, an angel.
“Eyes open River.” He doesn’t stop because he can’t - he can’t stop now because she is wrapped around him, hot and delicious, and he can feel the wave rushing through his skull as the seconds rush past them, around them, through them.
“Gotcha,” she barely manages to pant the word out, lifting her upper body slightly so she can look straight at the angel, unblinking. He continues to move her, his breathing harsh and he wraps one arm around her waist to continue pushing her against him, and against him - she is so wet, and so ready for him, despite how rushed they are. But her build is much slower than his; he can feel it - count it out in the ripple of her muscles over and around him - too slow. Too slow. He huffs in frustration, because he cannot reach around to access her clit, he cannot - “Doctor.”
“Got it - got it.” His eyes snap up to the angel and he lets her have a break to blink as he stares ahead, still pulling her against him, his rhythm increasing as he feels the tension within him draw up and up, tighter and tighter. “River you have to-” He feels her arm reach past his forearm, still gripping her waist tightly. She moans as her own fingers press against that bundle of nerves and the fluttering of her muscles all around him increases. “Yes, that’s it.” He stares ahead, lifting his own free hand to his mouth, knowing it won’t - it’s still not enough, and time is ticking down and where there is one angel there will be two, three, four - any second now. He licks his fingers, wetting them thoroughly before reaching down again, still staring at the angel, but he needs to see- “River-” he gasps and she looks up in understanding.
“Okay,” her voice is breathy and he blinks and looks down, his hand slipping between his stomach and her arse. His fingers slide along the curve, dipping into the curvature, searching, and searching until he finds the tight ring of muscle he’s looking for. “Oh god.” She sobs the word out as he circles it with one wet fingertip, and she bucks, her back arching and hips rising against him. His arm is still pulling her against him mercilessly, keeping pace mindlessly as everything seems to contract around him. “More.” She chokes the word out and he swallows heavily, pressing and pressing against the tightly closed entrance until his finger slips past and she lets out a small scream. He hopes they’re far enough away, but he supposes they can blame the angel, still staring, frozen in time. He can feel her still furiously working her own fingers over her clit, and he feels his own legs begin to shake as he drags her over his stiff length, faster and faster as the clock winds down. His finger buried within her circles and swirls, he can feel the wild spasming of her vaginal walls through the soft tissue and he pushes against the source, his finger buried knuckle deep in her arse as she gasps for air. “Doctor!” He looks up just in time and he can feel her orgasm rip through her, contracting around his erection, and fluttering softly around the finger curled within her, and he has to fight to hang on - to keep staring ahead and let her ride her orgasm out before he takes his own release. He eases his hand out from between her cheeks, and his hands grip her hips so tightly he is sure she will be bruised.
“River,” his voice is strangled and high and she reaches a hand back to squeeze his thigh, giving him permission and he feels the world explode around him, gripping her to him and bending over her, burying his face in her hair as he says her name over and over again, whispering it hotly into her ear. He wonders what kind of picture they present to the creature on that hill. Locked in time, it is forced to watch this and he smiles at the thought as the last of the tremors leave his body. He presses a kiss to the back of her neck and he pulls out. He tucks himself back in, buttoning his trousers and pulling the zip up and he spots a second angel on the hill, and then a third. “Come on - I’ve got you.” He pulls her upright and steps in front of her. She leans against his back for a moment, breathing carefully. He feels her reaching down to fix herself and he grins, wishing he could turn around to see her all undone behind him.
“What now?” She asks breathlessly in his ear and he turns at the sound - just a half a second and she gasps. “Doctor!” His head snaps back, half expecting far closer angels, but there are no more where they once were, and he can see the light in the distance, bright white and shining. “What is that light?” She frowns and steps around him, and his hand shoots out, grabbing hers.
“No.”
“We should check it out-” He pulls her back until he can grip her shoulders tightly and keep her close to him.
“No, we can’t - it erases everything in its path -swallows it whole, River. As if it never existe-” His hands squeeze her shoulders as an idea - a plan bursts across his mind, bright and fully formed. “Oh you are brilliant.”
“What? Do you have a plan sweetie?” She looks back at him and he grins, pressing a swift kiss to her cheek and gripping her hand in his.
“Of course I do - I told you - thing in progress River. I still need your scanner though - but once we get there okay, come on!” He sees her flushed skin, and the bright smile on her face as they turn and duck into the woods.
And for the first time that day, it’s the only thing he sees when he looks at her - no ghost image superimposing itself over her.
He laughs out loud, as they move quickly toward the flight deck. His mind races ahead, flying through schematics and transportation controls and artificial gravity manuals, fully focussed on the task at hand.
He grips her hand tighter, and they run.
Fandom/Characters: Doctor Who, River/Eleven
Rating: E (explicit)
Wordcount: 5,100
Warning: A bit cracky? Also it's rated E for a reason, explicit sex, some anal play - if that's not your thing, don't read :)
Summary: But he’s too scattered and panicking, and this entire day has felt like he’s just been running to catch up, ever since he first laid eyes on that home box in the museum.
A/N: So this was a smut add in prompt for Flesh and Stone. It is kind of crack, but deliciously smut filled crack. I'll reiterate my above warning - if you don't like anal play, don't read it :) If you're not sure - well give it a go, lol ;)
the tie that binds, and binds, and binds
The fact that he can think about a million things at once is often a blessing and a curse. His mind is never quiet, never centered, never fully focussed. There is always something else, running through, and more than likely it is several hundred somethings.
It’s a blessing because he’s running through three hundred and forty seven different possibilities to save Amy from the countdown that is drastically dwindling - he can practically feel the time pressing against his back. Seconds. But he’s too scattered and panicking, and this entire day has felt like he’s just been running to catch up, ever since he first laid eyes on that home box in the museum. Vision centers of the brain, located in the occipital lobe, passing through the super colliculus - the optic disk might be- no, no, no, useless.
“Doctor, she’s got seconds.” River’s voice is urgent, but unerringly calm and he looks at her in surprise. Her eyes are fastened on Amy’s vital signs, but one hand is rubbing Amy’s shoulder - she is comforting his companion.
“How would you starve your lungs?” The question skates across his brain from nowhere and he can’t even pinpoint where it came from, but River is answering regardless, not even pausing to question the utter ridiculousness of it.
“I - I’d stop breathing.” She doesn’t lift her eyes and he licks his lips, as realization bursts across his brain in a shower of light.
“Amy, close your eyes!” He looks away from River, down at Amy who is shaking her head and refusing. “Good. Cause that’s not you, that’s the angel inside you - it’s afraid.” He moves toward her, she has to close her eyes and he can feel River’s gaze on him now, finally. “Do it, close your eyes.” He meets River’s eyes for a moment before nodding down at Amy who finally, finally shuts her eyes.
The device in River’s hand goes wild for a moment and they both stare at it as it reverts to normal. “She’s normalizing.” River speaks in a hushed tone, and she breathes a sigh of relief, looking up at him. “You did it.” She whispers, her eyes fastened on his and he breathes out in relief too, smiling slightly because for all her calm earlier, she is all but shaking with relief as she looks at him. Her eyes are alight and he grins a bit more. “You did it.” She breathes the words out as he sits back on his heels with a smug grin.
The clerics spread out more and his mind skips ahead, like a stone on water, thinking past the problem at hand to the larger issue of angels and cracks in the universe and how impossible? He pauses at that thought - watching River help Amy sit up carefully. She keeps an arm around the younger girl, and he wonders for a split second - how well does River know Amy? They need to get to the flight control deck and he is mapping it out in his head, pushing mental pins into the map in his head every time the clerics call out an angel sighting. She speaks his language and she felt like she fit him when he’d caught her, hurtling through space. Who does that? Who does that? Flings themselves out into the vacuum of space with only the faith that he would get a message she sent to some point 12,000 years in the future? He watches her and thinks on it even as more than half his mind is racing racing racing onwards to cracks in the walls and he has to analyze the data he scanned - she told Octavian she trusted him with her life. And she must, because she has, several times already. Spacejumps, and realizing they were surrounded by angels and rewiring power supply cables in the dark with a steady hand that he’d felt the need to touch. Who was she?
River checks Amy’s pressure and looks at him as she removes the cuff. “Still weak. Dangerous to move her.”
“So can I open my eyes now?” Amy frowns in confusion, and the Doctor sighs. If he’s been scrambling to catch up - to the angels, to his brain, to River Song- he’s been dragging poor Amy along five feet behind him.
“Amy listen to me, if you open your eyes now for more than a second, you will die.” Amy looks to River, and River wraps an arm around her back. “The angel is still inside you, we haven’t stopped it, we’ve just... sort of... paused it.” He looks down as he explains, the weight of the adventures pressing down on him. So much time energy swirling around them and he feels the weight of it all. “You’ve used up your countdown; you cannot open your eyes.” As he speaks River’s hand is rubbing soothing circles across Amy’s back, sliding over her shoulder and hugging Amy to her side. She must know Amy very well, which must obviously mean that they would be seeing a great deal of River in the immediate future. He isn’t sure how he feels about that. There is an odd sense of excitement but when he looks at her he sometimes sees that same expression - the one that had been on her face right before she’d died - and he always has to swallow and look away. He looks at her, and sees those last moments - like double vision.
“We’re too exposed here, we have to move on.” Octavian points out the painfully obvious and the Doctor sighs, standing up to face the cleric.
“We’re too exposed everywhere, and Amy can’t move and anyway - that’s not the plan.” Flight deck. He needs the flight deck and he needs a clever solution, so he needs - he looks down at her, sitting with Amy.
“There’s a plan?” She sounds entirely unsurprised and he smiles as he turns away to pace. She is distracting. Watching her with Amy is distracting - thinking about the fact that if this doesn’t work out he’s lead Amy to her death is distracting.
“I dunno yet - I haven’t finished talking.” He jumps onto a tree root and glances around at the angels scattered amongst the trees. “Right, Father. You and your clerics, you’re gonna stay here, look after Amy. If anything happens to her, I will hold every single one of you personally responsible. Twice.” He glances around at each of the clerics, as if his words and stare alone can impress upon them the weight of the task he is giving them. “River, you and me - we’re gonna go find the primary flight deck. Which is..” He licks a finger and holds it up for show, while his mind speeds through the schematics for the Byzantium he’d glanced through while in the entrance to the caves, “quarter of a mile, straight ahead and from there we’re gonna stabilize the wreckage, stop the angels and cure Amy.” He turns and hops down to find River looking up at him, arm still around Amy.
“How?”
“I’ll do a thing.” He states, looking down at her and she shakes her head, meeting his gaze.
“What thing?”
“I dunno, it’s a thing in progress, respect the thing!” He chastises her and moves past her with a clap. “Moving out!”
“Doctor,” Octavian approaches and the Doctor stares, weary. Churches - filled with good men, usually blinded by faith, he’s always found. “I’m coming with you. My clerics will look after Miss Pond, these are my best men - they’d lay down their lives in her protection.” Octavian insisted and the Doctor stared at him, trying to figure out the man’s angle.
“I don’t need you.” He shakes his head - the more eyes with Amy, the better, and he and River will handle things a lot faster without the presence of the man before him. It makes no sense, really, but Octavian has been hovering around River since he arrived, and the Doctor didn’t like it. He avoids thinking about just why, however, by thinking instead about the fact that they were trapped in a spaceship surrounded by lonely assassins.
“I don’t care.” Octavian states calmly as River joins them. “Where Dr. Song goes, I go.”
“What?” His skin crawls at the implication and he looks to River who simply crosses her arms and looks back, her face, as usual, giving nothing away. “Are you two engaged or something?” It’s an odd question, but it blurts out of his mouth without much forethought, because it’s an idea that has been unwinding along the back of his mind, slithering through the recessed corners of his brain. Octavian has been turning to her, they’ve been whispering, and standing far too close for his liking. Everything within him rejects the thought. He does not know who she is, or how they met. He does not know much about River Song at all, but he knows what he saw on her face in that Library. He knows how she looked at him in Asgaard. She knows his name - and that is the most closely guarded secret he has. So no, she cannot - simply cannot be involved with this stoic, blinded-by-his-own faith man.
“Yes,” Octavian responds, and the smirk slides off of the Doctor’s face instantly. “In a manner of speaking.” The Doctor glances at River quickly but she simply raises her brows in amusement - but is she laughing at his assumptions or him or Octavian? “Marco-” Octavian starts to speak and the Doctor holds up a hand, suddenly, inexplicably angry. Well, it was quite explicable, he knows, but he forges ahead, ignoring the thirty-seven percent of his brain that is laughing at him.
“I don’t think you understood me before, Father.” The Doctor speaks calmly and Octavian looks at him in surprise. “You called me here, and you put my friend at risk - she could die because the Church felt the need to involve itself with this angel. Isn’t that always the way, eh? The more eyes with Amy, the better - and I need River with me because this is a very tricky problem that will require a very genius solution and frankly you’re less than useless to me for that. I don’t care if you’re on your bloody honeymoon, she comes, you stay, and that’s final.” Octavian and River both stare at him.
“But sir,”
“No. She’s not going anywhere, she’ll be with me, and I’ll keep an eye on her, promise.” The Doctor claps the older man on the shoulder, ignoring his second protest, and River says nothing but stands aside as the Doctor moves over to sit by Amy.
“You’ll be safer here; we can’t protect you on the move. I’ll be back for you as soon as I can, I promise.” He nudged her shoulder and she glanced away, her eyes still tightly shut.
“You always say that.”
“I always come back.” He glances around to see Octavian glaring at him from across the way and River standing near the edge of the clearing in the direction he’d told her earlier. He stands and looks at the Clerics. “Good luck everyone, and do not let that girl open her eyes. And keep watching the forests, stop those angels advancing.” He looks down at Amy and pats her on the head, his mind already in the woods, skipping ahead. “Amy, later. River, gonna need your computer!” He heads toward River who turns and makes her way into the woods. He trails after her, finally catching up a good several yards away.
He is thinking of Amy, back there, surrounded by angels, and he is thinking about the problem at hand - where is that crack coming from, and is it an advantage or a disadvantage? The angels will be draining the power, and if he can - maybe... it might work. He is also thinking of how the woman ahead of him felt in his arms, pressing him into his TARDIS floor, and he is thinking about her poker face and about her - “How can you be engaged in a manner of speaking?” He walks up behind her, invading her space and she turns to look at him, a smile on her face. She doesn’t back down though, in fact quite the opposite; she meets him halfway, stepping into his own space as she looks up at him.
“Sucker for a man in uniform?” She asks, and he can see the amusement on her face and he raises his brows as he looks down at her incredulously. He feels like everything around him slides to a halt, and his whole brain turns and focuses on her. It is almost startling, because it’s not something he’s used to, but he looks at the light in her eyes or the shadows on her face, the smirk tilting the corner of her mouth-
“Liar.” He breathes the word out and she laughs, her head thrown back, before she turns and continues walking. “Are you going to explain?” He scurries after her, always running to catch up with her, it seems.
“Why? Jealous?” She throws the question over her shoulder and he reaches ahead, snagging her by the elbow and dragging her back toward him. She stumbles backwards, tripping into him and he puts his hands at her waist to steady her. When she stands again, he steps in front of her, walking forward until she has to back up.
“I’m not jealous.” He splutters and she grins as her back hits the bark of a treeborg. She arches a brow and looks up at him, clearly not convinced. “I’m not.”
“Really?”
“Yes really. Mind you I may have been under the impression that we - but clearly I was wrong.” He shrugs and starts opening pockets in her utility belt busily.
“We’re not engaged you daft idiot.” She points out, and slaps his hands away.
“Then why is it he can’t seem to be more than five feet from you at all times?” He leans in as he asks - time is nudging the back of his mind but he pushes it away. He needs to know this.
“Because - because,” she swallows and he pushes in closer, until he is all but pressed against her, and just like on the floor of the TARDIS, she fits into him in all the right places. Soft against him, curved where he is straight. As if she is bespoke for him. Who is she? His mind can only chant one response, no matter who she is - she is clearly his. “He’s responsible for me.”
“How?” His hips press into hers and she swallows, he is close enough that he can see the sweat at her temples, the wisps of curls escaping their confines, and the scent of her is electric, sharp - refreshing and fresh as he inhales sharply, his face dropping closer to hers. He doesn’t know what he’s doing - but he feels literally, mentally, and physically incapable of doing anything else. “Tell me, River.”
She licks her lips and looks up at him. Her breath stutters in her throat before she glances down and away. “He released me from the Stormcage four days ago. If we survive, this will go toward me earning my pardon.” His hands grip her waist tightly and he stares down at her in disbelief. He’d never thought - but why-
“Why are you in prison?” He asks, knowing she won’t tell him and as he expects, she smiles enigmatically up at him.
“Spoilers.” He swallows because he knows what that means. It means - it means that whatever reason she is in prison, he had a hand in putting her there. What has he done to her life? Will do to her life? His fingers spread, sliding up along her ribs, and her breath catches as she tilts her head back to look up at him. “Doctor,” she breathes out his name in question and he meets her gaze head on.
He finds himself, rather insanely, wanting to kiss her. But that is stupidly dangerous in a forest filled with creatures that will kill them as soon as their eyes close. So instead he leans down and moves to her left, his mouth just brushing against the soft skin of her cheek. She gasps at the contact and he cannot help but dart his tongue out, just a taste, he just wants to know what she tastes like. She hitches out a breathy moan at that, and his hands grip her ribs tightly in response. She tastes... exquisite. Like something indefinable, but it bursts across his tongue and leaves him wanting more. “What are you doing?” She asks in a high, breathy tone that slides down his spine and does things to him.
He pulls back, looking down at her face, hair pulled back and his vision swims for a moment, seeing her weeping silent tears. Hush now. He shakes his head and bends it once more, this time to press a deliberate kiss against the side of her throat. Despite her verbal protest, she tilts her head accommodatingly, and her hands wrap around his biceps, gripping him tightly. He kisses and sucks at her neck and every second he tastes her skin, he wants more - and more - and all of her. There is a primal urge stirring within him, and he cannot explain it, but Octavian had pressed in too close to her, and he wanted to erase it from his memory. His palms slid up and over her breasts, and she gasps, her head pushing back into the bark as her hips push into his. “Don’t close your eyes.” He mumbles the words against her skin and she moans, but he feels her nod above him.
“Doctor, you - you can’t-”
“Shhh. I need to think, River, and you are distracting. I need to - to focus.” She lets out a soft oh above him and he is unbuttoning her uniform top, quick, quicker. It falls open and he yanks the shirt out of her pants, his hands running along the smooth skin of her stomach. “Oh, what?” He asks in distraction as he works the t-shirt up past her breasts, but her bra is still in the way, a sheer black thing that makes him catch his breath as he bends down, wrapping his mouth around one nipple, over the fabric. He wets it with his tongue and she gasps, her hands flying to his hair and twisting there.
“I didn’t think you - you would know this young-” And he smiles against her skin because he knows he is right - he’ll think better after this - he just needs a minute, just five minutes - okay maybe ten minutes, he thinks as he rolls her nipple under his tongue and her fingers tighten in his hair, but it sends tingles shooting down his back and he groans, biting the soft breast in front of him before he moves to the other one to repeat his actions. Ten minutes - six hundred seconds, he thinks, focussing on her every noise, her every reaction above him. “Doctor!” She gasps his name, and he drops his hands to her waist, as he presses soft kisses to her neck, careful to keep his body hunched down and to the left, so as not to obscure her view. Seventy-nine seconds gone and he needs to hurry up.
“Do you run River?” He is undoing her belt as he asks and she blinks down at him in confusion. “No, no, no - look up, look up! Eyes open, River.” He scolds as he opens the button and eases the zipper down - fifteen seconds and there is no time. His hand pushes past the elastic of her knickers, long fingers stretching and burying themselves through soft curls. She gasps when he finally slides them along slick flesh. “Ohhhh, there you are. River.” He presses his forehead to her temple, and watches her face. She is bloody gorgeous, he thinks as he slips two fingers down between her thighs. “My bad girl.” He murmurs the words and her eyes widen, her skin flushes with red and her breathing increases.
“How long?” She pants out and he does the math quickly, licking at her ear, because it is right there.
“Four hundred and seventy-one seconds.” He whispers it right in her ear, his lips brushing against the shell and she nods, her eyes darting around, and her hands reaching between them, to fumble with the opening of his own trousers.
“Oh I do love a good quickie, sweetie.” She grins in triumph as her hands slips into his trousers, and he groans, dropping his head to her shoulder. “Oh, somebody’s happy to see me.” She sighs the words and his hips thrust into her hand, even as his own fingers slip inside of her, mapping silken walls and curling as far as he can plausibly reach. Even as he’s doing it, his mind feels like it is crystallizing - focussing and centering on one point. Her fingers pull and drag, and she presses her back into the bark, her eyes still darting all around them and breathy little moans escaping her throat. “Admit it,” she breathes out, “you were jealous.”
“Should I have been?” He mumbles the words into the camouflage fabric covering her shoulder, his eyes shut tightly as her grip tightens and her hand slides down slowly. Her fingers stretch down and her nails scrape lower and lower and he shudders even as his own hand works in and out of her as quickly as he can, his thumb pressed against her clit.
“Not even for half a second, my love.” She pants the words out and he pulls his hands from her knickers, pushing her trousers down to her ankles and sliding her knickers along with them. They tangle around her boots and he stares, loosing ten seconds as he wonders- “Oh you daft idiot, come here.” She tugs him closer and braces her hands around his waist, turning and pushing him back so his back is to the tree. “Don’t blink.” She breathes his own instructions back to him, and pulls open his fly enough to ease his stiff erection out. He hisses in relief and she pushes down on his shoulders until he’s leaning against the tree, somewhat slouched down, his knees bent slightly. “Oh you take direction so well dear.” She breathes out, leaning in to bite the side of his neck, and he yelps in surprise, his hands reaching for her again, fingers outstretched toward her warmth and wetness. “Ah, ah, ah.” She pulls back, licking her lips and shaking her head. “Three hundred and twenty seconds left, no time to waste dear.”
He’s dazed and astounded, because he knows she is right - exactly right about the seconds they have dripping off them, and swirling all around them. She turns her back to him and presses her rather spectacular arse against his erection, wriggling there for a moment. Then she spreads her legs as wide as she can, and bends at the waist. “Oh, my god.” He breathes the words out, staring down at the roundness of her bum pressed against his groin. His erection is trapped between the cheeks, glistening in the low light and she is looking straight ahead.
“Come on,” She wriggles back against him and he jumps into action, gripping his erection and pushing it down, guiding it into her slick heat with ease. She is really just the perfect height for this, he thinks as his hips sink forward, his hands steadying her, since she has nothing to balance against at all, really. He pumps in and out of her - the angle is deep and delicious and rather tight and she moans and he repeats her sound. “Doctor,”
“Oh you are a perfect fit. Of course you are - of course you are.” The seconds are winding down in his head and he begins to move in earnest now, bracing his back against the tree behind him, and pulling her hips against his with quick tugs.
“Doctor.” Her voice is higher pitched this time and he looks past her and sees it - just on the crest of the hill, an angel.
“Eyes open River.” He doesn’t stop because he can’t - he can’t stop now because she is wrapped around him, hot and delicious, and he can feel the wave rushing through his skull as the seconds rush past them, around them, through them.
“Gotcha,” she barely manages to pant the word out, lifting her upper body slightly so she can look straight at the angel, unblinking. He continues to move her, his breathing harsh and he wraps one arm around her waist to continue pushing her against him, and against him - she is so wet, and so ready for him, despite how rushed they are. But her build is much slower than his; he can feel it - count it out in the ripple of her muscles over and around him - too slow. Too slow. He huffs in frustration, because he cannot reach around to access her clit, he cannot - “Doctor.”
“Got it - got it.” His eyes snap up to the angel and he lets her have a break to blink as he stares ahead, still pulling her against him, his rhythm increasing as he feels the tension within him draw up and up, tighter and tighter. “River you have to-” He feels her arm reach past his forearm, still gripping her waist tightly. She moans as her own fingers press against that bundle of nerves and the fluttering of her muscles all around him increases. “Yes, that’s it.” He stares ahead, lifting his own free hand to his mouth, knowing it won’t - it’s still not enough, and time is ticking down and where there is one angel there will be two, three, four - any second now. He licks his fingers, wetting them thoroughly before reaching down again, still staring at the angel, but he needs to see- “River-” he gasps and she looks up in understanding.
“Okay,” her voice is breathy and he blinks and looks down, his hand slipping between his stomach and her arse. His fingers slide along the curve, dipping into the curvature, searching, and searching until he finds the tight ring of muscle he’s looking for. “Oh god.” She sobs the word out as he circles it with one wet fingertip, and she bucks, her back arching and hips rising against him. His arm is still pulling her against him mercilessly, keeping pace mindlessly as everything seems to contract around him. “More.” She chokes the word out and he swallows heavily, pressing and pressing against the tightly closed entrance until his finger slips past and she lets out a small scream. He hopes they’re far enough away, but he supposes they can blame the angel, still staring, frozen in time. He can feel her still furiously working her own fingers over her clit, and he feels his own legs begin to shake as he drags her over his stiff length, faster and faster as the clock winds down. His finger buried within her circles and swirls, he can feel the wild spasming of her vaginal walls through the soft tissue and he pushes against the source, his finger buried knuckle deep in her arse as she gasps for air. “Doctor!” He looks up just in time and he can feel her orgasm rip through her, contracting around his erection, and fluttering softly around the finger curled within her, and he has to fight to hang on - to keep staring ahead and let her ride her orgasm out before he takes his own release. He eases his hand out from between her cheeks, and his hands grip her hips so tightly he is sure she will be bruised.
“River,” his voice is strangled and high and she reaches a hand back to squeeze his thigh, giving him permission and he feels the world explode around him, gripping her to him and bending over her, burying his face in her hair as he says her name over and over again, whispering it hotly into her ear. He wonders what kind of picture they present to the creature on that hill. Locked in time, it is forced to watch this and he smiles at the thought as the last of the tremors leave his body. He presses a kiss to the back of her neck and he pulls out. He tucks himself back in, buttoning his trousers and pulling the zip up and he spots a second angel on the hill, and then a third. “Come on - I’ve got you.” He pulls her upright and steps in front of her. She leans against his back for a moment, breathing carefully. He feels her reaching down to fix herself and he grins, wishing he could turn around to see her all undone behind him.
“What now?” She asks breathlessly in his ear and he turns at the sound - just a half a second and she gasps. “Doctor!” His head snaps back, half expecting far closer angels, but there are no more where they once were, and he can see the light in the distance, bright white and shining. “What is that light?” She frowns and steps around him, and his hand shoots out, grabbing hers.
“No.”
“We should check it out-” He pulls her back until he can grip her shoulders tightly and keep her close to him.
“No, we can’t - it erases everything in its path -swallows it whole, River. As if it never existe-” His hands squeeze her shoulders as an idea - a plan bursts across his mind, bright and fully formed. “Oh you are brilliant.”
“What? Do you have a plan sweetie?” She looks back at him and he grins, pressing a swift kiss to her cheek and gripping her hand in his.
“Of course I do - I told you - thing in progress River. I still need your scanner though - but once we get there okay, come on!” He sees her flushed skin, and the bright smile on her face as they turn and duck into the woods.
And for the first time that day, it’s the only thing he sees when he looks at her - no ghost image superimposing itself over her.
He laughs out loud, as they move quickly toward the flight deck. His mind races ahead, flying through schematics and transportation controls and artificial gravity manuals, fully focussed on the task at hand.
He grips her hand tighter, and they run.