Title: yours to play the part
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Eleven/River, peripheral Amy/Rory
Word Count: 1507
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own no Who, as usual.
Summary: River, the Doctor, time, and space.
A/N: A very belated entry in the
spoiler_song 2010 Holiday Fic Exchange. My anonymous requester asked for "River/Doctor, cliché," I believe. My apologies for the
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Comments 26
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I have to ask, though, did you copy it from a word-wrapped text document? The formatting's gone a little funny in places, like what happens when I do that.
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Um, yes, I pasted it from a Word 2007 text document. Thanks for catching the weird formatting. Could you point out any wonky places that I need to manually fix?
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It's such a precious mental image, the Doctor with his arms around River's waist watching the launch. ♥
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Thank you! I'm very glad you enjoyed it. :)
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gah.
oh, and
they string along nights like Christmas lights on a strand and every morning the answer is yes
this was so. freaking. beautiful. honestly, I can't get over it.
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(The comment has been removed)
And yes, of course you are correct. I suppose I thought that you could change an advanced degree the same way you could change a major, as long as you did it early enough. I think I've fixed it now.
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The different scenes are all wonderful, and together they paint a lovely, and perfectly bittersweet, picture of this ‘ship. And the dialogue is perfect.
Her message is better, she thinks, and so is the man she sends it to.
“Keeping an eye on the Daleks for you? Getting you a rope? Buying you paracetamol and jam?”
She has all of time and space at her disposal, and she’s in love with the good wizard to boot. No, she’s not a princess, and that’s just the way she likes it.
I love these lines; they’re so River.
And these say so much about the ship:
Dandelions don’t remind her of anything.
A half an hour later, he’s handcuffed to the dock railing and retching into the ocean below. River alternates between holding his head and shooting withering glances at the milquetoast policeman writing up their crime reports.
Once, that would have been her ( ... )
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Oh, dear, I've noticed a few typos now that I'm here again. I'll have to have a look at them later, when I have the original text file to compare them to.
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Oh, don't worry about that! It was a lovely gift to get now. I don't think it diverged, either -- it was hardly a specific prompt. :)
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