Challenge #534 - Doctor Who - Clara/River
Title: Distracting
Author: moondoormajesty
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing: Clara/River
Prompt: #534 - leather
Rating: PG
Word Count: 250
Summary: “You know, the whole point of a getaway driver is that she gets to drive. Her own TARDIS.”
“That’s definitely... an outfit,” Clara remarks, upon seeing River stroll into her TARDIS, clad almost entirely in tight black leather and other tight black fabrics, save for a low neckline and an ample push of cleavage that Clara can’t quite stop staring at.
“It’s my ‘I’ve just robbed a museum’ outfit,” River says. “One of them.” She sets a bag of heavy-looking something down on the floor. It’s emitting an odd, low hum. “Don’t worry. It won’t explode unless you try to take it apart. Or leave it too close to a sun.”
“And it is?”
“Highly valuable,” River replies. She’s already started plotting a course.
“You know, the whole point of a getaway driver is that she gets to drive. Her own TARDIS.”
“You could. If I felt like ending up in the middle of an ocean.”
“That was one time.” Aside from that, Clara has a perfect record of landing-where-she-meant-to, thank you. “And you were distracting me.”
“Was I?” River says, as if she doesn’t know perfectly well what she did. She rounds the console to turn a knob near Clara, then looks over at her. “Am I doing it now?”
Yes. Your entire existence is infuriatingly distracting, Clara doesn’t say. Instead, she asks where they’re even going. Since River’s earlier message hadn’t been too specific, aside from telling Clara where (and when) to pick her up.
“Marketplace on an asteroid, in the Andromeda galaxy. Or wherever - if you felt like ‘distracting me’ back,” River cheeks - and challenges.
Author: moondoormajesty
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing: Clara/River
Prompt: #534 - leather
Rating: PG
Word Count: 250
Summary: “You know, the whole point of a getaway driver is that she gets to drive. Her own TARDIS.”
“That’s definitely... an outfit,” Clara remarks, upon seeing River stroll into her TARDIS, clad almost entirely in tight black leather and other tight black fabrics, save for a low neckline and an ample push of cleavage that Clara can’t quite stop staring at.
“It’s my ‘I’ve just robbed a museum’ outfit,” River says. “One of them.” She sets a bag of heavy-looking something down on the floor. It’s emitting an odd, low hum. “Don’t worry. It won’t explode unless you try to take it apart. Or leave it too close to a sun.”
“And it is?”
“Highly valuable,” River replies. She’s already started plotting a course.
“You know, the whole point of a getaway driver is that she gets to drive. Her own TARDIS.”
“You could. If I felt like ending up in the middle of an ocean.”
“That was one time.” Aside from that, Clara has a perfect record of landing-where-she-meant-to, thank you. “And you were distracting me.”
“Was I?” River says, as if she doesn’t know perfectly well what she did. She rounds the console to turn a knob near Clara, then looks over at her. “Am I doing it now?”
Yes. Your entire existence is infuriatingly distracting, Clara doesn’t say. Instead, she asks where they’re even going. Since River’s earlier message hadn’t been too specific, aside from telling Clara where (and when) to pick her up.
“Marketplace on an asteroid, in the Andromeda galaxy. Or wherever - if you felt like ‘distracting me’ back,” River cheeks - and challenges.