fic: relative # 6 (dw, river/doctor)
'Relative # 6'. G. student!River, future!Doctor. 243 words.
The rest of the drabbles can be found here.
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It’s way too early in the morning, and she’s only had time for a precious few sips of coffee before class (and still she has to sneak in and sit in the back of the lecture hall).
No one is looking forward to studying Contemporary Palaeontology, and the introduction of a new teaching assistant is just another point against it. Who cares, really?
The man is young; seems harmless, not terribly confident, not entirely awake. He’s wearing trousers of the most egregious shade of purple she’s ever seen, though, which at least indicates some spirit.
He looks the class over, and River has the most curious feeling his gaze lingers on her for much longer than on any of the others, even though she’s so far away. She sits up a bit straighter, just in case.
“This is John Smith,” the Professor says, and the class winces in sympathy, River included. Anyone named that ought to be a static hologram.
The man cares not at all; he simply smiles (just maybe while looking at her).
That was it; he was there among them, already judged and doomed after thirty seconds. He sits down in the front row to listen to the lecture.
River accesses the right program on her padd and prepares to be bored.
When they (finally) break for lunch, River has long since decided to say hello to poor Mr Smith. Can’t hurt, she thinks, and puts on her best manners.
The rest of the drabbles can be found here.
---
It’s way too early in the morning, and she’s only had time for a precious few sips of coffee before class (and still she has to sneak in and sit in the back of the lecture hall).
No one is looking forward to studying Contemporary Palaeontology, and the introduction of a new teaching assistant is just another point against it. Who cares, really?
The man is young; seems harmless, not terribly confident, not entirely awake. He’s wearing trousers of the most egregious shade of purple she’s ever seen, though, which at least indicates some spirit.
He looks the class over, and River has the most curious feeling his gaze lingers on her for much longer than on any of the others, even though she’s so far away. She sits up a bit straighter, just in case.
“This is John Smith,” the Professor says, and the class winces in sympathy, River included. Anyone named that ought to be a static hologram.
The man cares not at all; he simply smiles (just maybe while looking at her).
That was it; he was there among them, already judged and doomed after thirty seconds. He sits down in the front row to listen to the lecture.
River accesses the right program on her padd and prepares to be bored.
When they (finally) break for lunch, River has long since decided to say hello to poor Mr Smith. Can’t hurt, she thinks, and puts on her best manners.