Doctor Who Ficlet: Page One. [River/Eleven | PG]
Title: Page One
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: River/Doctor
Wordcount: 500
Spoilers Know who River and Eleven are? You're good.
Page One
River was seventeen when she first met the Doctor. She killed him with a laser pulse weapon that took out most of his chest and his left arm.
She had mistaken him for a Dalek.
That was a...long story.
She remembered the slow shuddering horror as she realised she had taken another person's life. People always say the first time always hits you the hardest. They were right, worst luck. She was still heaving up the remains of her breakfast, when the time agents found her.
Two weeks later, he turned up in her cell, very much alive and wearing a lovely shade of lipstick. He flashed a blank card in her face. “I'm your defence advocate,” he said.
“But...but...you're dead!” she said.
“Ah, yes,” he said. “Well, plainly I'm doing things in the wrong order again. Never could get the hang of that...sorry.”
River stared at him across the table, with his tweed jacket and bow tie. “Who are you?” she asked quietly. “And why were those time agents tracking you?”
“Ah, well, it's kind of a funny story-”
The cell door opened and Officer Creek, the prison's officious head warden stormed in. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded. “I gave nobody permission to visit the prisoner!”
“Ah.” Slowly, he unfolded himself from the plastic mould seat and smiled abstractly. “Perhaps I should introduce myself - I'm the Doctor.” And then he kissed the prison warden full on the lips.
River eyed Creek as he slid to the ground, the lipstick smeared on his face, and the Doctor looked back at her, his expression almost bashful. “You left it behind, last time,” he said, before fishing out a strange blue book. “And this is for you.” He placed it in her hands, his eyes not quite meeting hers.
Confused, River opened it. “But there's nothing in it,” she said.
“Oh, right, you'll need a pen,” he said, patting down his jacket. “Uh...um...do you like biros?”
It was pink, and shiny, and chewed at the top. “I don't understand. What should I write?” she asked, bemused.
He laughed as if she'd just told him a very funny joke. “Spoilers,” he said. For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her, but then he muttered something about bloody lipstick, as he took her hand instead. “You have to go, River,” he said. “Don't worry, I'll sort things out here.”
“But where will I go?” she said, panicking, “What will I do? I can't go home.” Because there was no home, not any more; thanks to the Daleks.
His eyes softened, but his words were light as he gave her a gentle push through the cell door. “Tell me, how does a career in archaeology strike you?”
“Huh?”
River turned to ask him what he meant by that - that archaeology was a load of rubbish, everyone knew that - but he was gone, and she was alone... and the prison alarms weren't ringing, and the guards were missing...
River looked at blue book and pink biro in her hands.
And began to run.
FINIS
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: River/Doctor
Wordcount: 500
Spoilers Know who River and Eleven are? You're good.
Page One
River was seventeen when she first met the Doctor. She killed him with a laser pulse weapon that took out most of his chest and his left arm.
She had mistaken him for a Dalek.
That was a...long story.
She remembered the slow shuddering horror as she realised she had taken another person's life. People always say the first time always hits you the hardest. They were right, worst luck. She was still heaving up the remains of her breakfast, when the time agents found her.
Two weeks later, he turned up in her cell, very much alive and wearing a lovely shade of lipstick. He flashed a blank card in her face. “I'm your defence advocate,” he said.
“But...but...you're dead!” she said.
“Ah, yes,” he said. “Well, plainly I'm doing things in the wrong order again. Never could get the hang of that...sorry.”
River stared at him across the table, with his tweed jacket and bow tie. “Who are you?” she asked quietly. “And why were those time agents tracking you?”
“Ah, well, it's kind of a funny story-”
The cell door opened and Officer Creek, the prison's officious head warden stormed in. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded. “I gave nobody permission to visit the prisoner!”
“Ah.” Slowly, he unfolded himself from the plastic mould seat and smiled abstractly. “Perhaps I should introduce myself - I'm the Doctor.” And then he kissed the prison warden full on the lips.
River eyed Creek as he slid to the ground, the lipstick smeared on his face, and the Doctor looked back at her, his expression almost bashful. “You left it behind, last time,” he said, before fishing out a strange blue book. “And this is for you.” He placed it in her hands, his eyes not quite meeting hers.
Confused, River opened it. “But there's nothing in it,” she said.
“Oh, right, you'll need a pen,” he said, patting down his jacket. “Uh...um...do you like biros?”
It was pink, and shiny, and chewed at the top. “I don't understand. What should I write?” she asked, bemused.
He laughed as if she'd just told him a very funny joke. “Spoilers,” he said. For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her, but then he muttered something about bloody lipstick, as he took her hand instead. “You have to go, River,” he said. “Don't worry, I'll sort things out here.”
“But where will I go?” she said, panicking, “What will I do? I can't go home.” Because there was no home, not any more; thanks to the Daleks.
His eyes softened, but his words were light as he gave her a gentle push through the cell door. “Tell me, how does a career in archaeology strike you?”
“Huh?”
River turned to ask him what he meant by that - that archaeology was a load of rubbish, everyone knew that - but he was gone, and she was alone... and the prison alarms weren't ringing, and the guards were missing...
River looked at blue book and pink biro in her hands.
And began to run.
FINIS