Fic: The Good Stuff
Title: The Good Stuff
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Iris Wildthyme, River Song
Rating: PG
Word Count: 410
Summary: Iris and River compare notes on the Doctor.
I've heard some crack theories that River is Iris, but I don't personally buy it. I can see the similarities, which is what prompted this bit o' drabble (that and I was promised fluff >.>). I also had that scene from The Importance of Being Earnest where Gwendolyn & Cecily read each others' diaries on the brain. So...here.
One day, Iris Wildthyme vowed, I will meet this woman when I don’t look so much like Rassilon in drag.
Four pudgy fingers drummed on the laminate tabletop as she regarded her companion with no small measure of wariness. River certainly had a habit of showing up when Iris’ carefully chosen incarnations had succumbed to the merciless machinations of time and gravity, and didn’t she just look chuffed about it. It was either that, or the fact that she’d finally discovered she knew something about the Doctor that Iris didn’t. Iris was certain there was a distinctly smug look hidden behind her teacup as she sipped delicately.
“Don’t take it personally, Iris. I’m sure I don’t know everything about him either. Yet.”
“Yet?”
“I’ve still got time.” Oh yes, that smile was definitely smug, and far too confident. Iris couldn’t possibly help what came out of her mouth next.
“Not as much as I’ve got, love.”
That did the trick. River’s lips all but vanished as they pressed together tightly, her fingers curling with just as much force around the edges of her diary where it lay on the table between them. A book in the shape of the TARDIS, Iris noted with distaste. Show off. Her fingers traced over the worn edges of her own diary, less distinctive but still (and this thought gave her a great deal of satisfaction) much larger than River’s.
“I think we both know it has very little to do with time, Iris.” River sighed, affecting boredom. Iris wasn’t fooled; she noticed the hungry way River was eyeing her diary. It was the same way Iris was looking at hers. Their mutual curiosity about the Doctor made them more similar than she cared to admit, and that thought alone almost stopped her from sliding her diary into the middle of the table, carefully avoiding the sea of empty martini glasses.
“Come on then, chuck. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
Iris half expected a standoff, if only for show, but River smiled, pushing the blue book next to Iris’. Their hands switched places as if on cue.
“I’ve dog-eared the good stuff,” Iris said with a wink, cracking the spine on River’s diary and disappearing behind it with all the eagerness of a child with a new toy. She didn’t catch the smugness returning to River’s smile, but it carried into her voice nonetheless.
“Iris, mine is nothing but good stuff.”
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Iris Wildthyme, River Song
Rating: PG
Word Count: 410
Summary: Iris and River compare notes on the Doctor.
I've heard some crack theories that River is Iris, but I don't personally buy it. I can see the similarities, which is what prompted this bit o' drabble (that and I was promised fluff >.>). I also had that scene from The Importance of Being Earnest where Gwendolyn & Cecily read each others' diaries on the brain. So...here.
One day, Iris Wildthyme vowed, I will meet this woman when I don’t look so much like Rassilon in drag.
Four pudgy fingers drummed on the laminate tabletop as she regarded her companion with no small measure of wariness. River certainly had a habit of showing up when Iris’ carefully chosen incarnations had succumbed to the merciless machinations of time and gravity, and didn’t she just look chuffed about it. It was either that, or the fact that she’d finally discovered she knew something about the Doctor that Iris didn’t. Iris was certain there was a distinctly smug look hidden behind her teacup as she sipped delicately.
“Don’t take it personally, Iris. I’m sure I don’t know everything about him either. Yet.”
“Yet?”
“I’ve still got time.” Oh yes, that smile was definitely smug, and far too confident. Iris couldn’t possibly help what came out of her mouth next.
“Not as much as I’ve got, love.”
That did the trick. River’s lips all but vanished as they pressed together tightly, her fingers curling with just as much force around the edges of her diary where it lay on the table between them. A book in the shape of the TARDIS, Iris noted with distaste. Show off. Her fingers traced over the worn edges of her own diary, less distinctive but still (and this thought gave her a great deal of satisfaction) much larger than River’s.
“I think we both know it has very little to do with time, Iris.” River sighed, affecting boredom. Iris wasn’t fooled; she noticed the hungry way River was eyeing her diary. It was the same way Iris was looking at hers. Their mutual curiosity about the Doctor made them more similar than she cared to admit, and that thought alone almost stopped her from sliding her diary into the middle of the table, carefully avoiding the sea of empty martini glasses.
“Come on then, chuck. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
Iris half expected a standoff, if only for show, but River smiled, pushing the blue book next to Iris’. Their hands switched places as if on cue.
“I’ve dog-eared the good stuff,” Iris said with a wink, cracking the spine on River’s diary and disappearing behind it with all the eagerness of a child with a new toy. She didn’t catch the smugness returning to River’s smile, but it carried into her voice nonetheless.
“Iris, mine is nothing but good stuff.”