Fic: The Pleasures of Thievery (DW, River/Liz X)

Nov 15, 2012 16:39

Title: The Pleasures of Thievery
Author: aces
Rating: all ages
Fandom, characters: Doctor Who, Liz X/River Song
Word count: approx. 1100 words
For lyssie, for the dw_femslash ficathon.
Summary: “Do you always have to nick my stuff when you come visiting?” Liz asked.



“Do you always have to nick my stuff when you come visiting?” Liz asked, pulling back the hood of her cape, as red and velvety as the drapes in which she stood, blending into her surroundings.

“Your stuff?” River questioned, not turning away from the large, tasteful vase she was admiring. “I thought this was England’s stuff.”

“I’m the bloody Queen,” Liz pointed out grimly, “I am England.” She glided--it’s easy to glide in a cape and long skirt, when there’s no wind blowing--up to join River in front of the vase, also looking it over. “So. What does he want it for?”

“Oh, my dear,” River laughed, turning to face the Queen of England. “Not everything I do is in service of him. I am quite capable of stealing things for myself.”

“And what do you steal for yourself?” Liz inquired, the start of a grin curving her lips irrepressibly upward.

“Beautiful things,” River said softly, cupping Liz’s cheek. “Things that time cannot touch, no matter how ancient they may be.”

Liz drew back from River’s touch, her grin turning down. “Oi,” she said, “it’s not polite to refer to a lady’s age, haven’t you heard?”

River curtsied deeply. “I beg pardon most humbly, ma’am,” she said, but she was peeking up to gauge Liz’s reaction with a cheeky grin.

“That curtsy would work better in a skirt,” Liz pointed out. “Though I do like all the leather you like to wear when you visit me.” Her grin, never far away, returned. “It’s most appreciated.”

“What, this old thing?” River glanced down at her skin-tight, low-cut suit. “I wear it to all my cat burglaries, it’s practically an old rag.”

Liz ran a single finger down River’s arm, idly; and River shivered at the touch, even through the leather. “Really? Doesn’t look like one.” She leaned forward, her hand slipping from River’s arm to the small of her back. “If it was a rag, it would be a lot easier to get off you, for one thing.”

“Why, ma’am,” River said huskily, leaning into the queen’s personal space. “Surely you know I’m not that kind of girl.”

“I have that effect on people,” Liz told her with another irrepressible grin, and River couldn’t help grinning back, couldn’t help the arm that slid around Liz’s waist in response to the pressure Liz was exerting on her back.

“At least you don’t go in for all that Virgin Queen malarkey,” River said, as Liz started nuzzling at her neck. River arched her neck to give the other woman more room.

Liz nipped at her earlobe, and River gasped. “Show more respect for your Queen,” Liz commanded in a low voice, and River put her hand at the base of Liz’s neck, tangling her fingers in Liz’s hair as she massaged the queen’s neck.

“Even if you’re not technically my Queen?” River said. “I’m really not from your era, you know.”

“If you’re standing in my time, on my ship, and you’re English, you’re one of my subjects,” Liz said. “I don’t care what bloody era you’re from.”

“What if I wasn’t even born in England?”

“Your parents are English. Being conceived in the time vortex just means you’re a citizen of the entire universe, England included.”

River laughed, a little breathlessly, as Liz was still working her way methodically around ear and throat in between words. “You’re incorrigible, aren’t you? Ma’am,” she added belatedly when Liz paused and glanced askance at her in righteous royal indignation.

Liz laughed a little as well before capturing River’s mouth in a kiss. “You’ve seen my ‘country,’” she pointed out ruefully “You’ve seen how we live. Wouldn’t you have to be a little incorrigible too?”

River broke away from the kiss, but only so she could follow Liz’s suit and kiss the queen’s throat, nibble at her ear. She glanced up in time to see Liz’s eyes flutter closed, and she grinned triumphantly. “But my dear,” River said in a low voice, “I am incorrigible.”

“Thank bloody goodness,” said the queen. “Do you know how boring my life would be if you or the Doctor didn’t occasionally pop up?”

River started laughing again. “I think, ma’am,” she said, “you would be able to find a way to keep yourself entertained.”

Liz grinned, pleased. “Yeah? I think so too.” She stepped back, hands slipping away from River’s waist and shoulders. “Now, really, why are you here?”

River sighed in regret, but turned back to the pale, almost shimmering vase she had been admiring when the queen found her. It had been made by no human potter, and Liz was probably aware of that. “I really am here to steal this. And it really is for a very good reason that...may or may not involve the Doctor.”

Liz rolled her eyes. “Typical,” she said. “Why does he always send you and never show up himself anymore?”

“He remembers all too well what happened with the Virgin Queen,” River winked, and Liz laughed. “Besides, don’t you like me visiting?” She stepped back closer to the queen, looked up at her under her eyelashes in one of her most coy and flirtatious moves. “I always enjoy our visits.”

It was difficult to tell, but it was entirely possible that the Queen of England was blushing. “You know I like them too,” she said, her hand stealing into River’s. “Only you never bloody stick around, do you? Whisk yourself in, nab something, whisk yourself out again. It’s enough to give even a queen a complex.”

“You’ll forgive me, ma’am, if I don’t believe you,” River said. “Rarely have I ever met a more self-confident woman. Other than myself, of course. And quite possibly my mother.”

Liz laughed. She had a most remarkable, free and joyous laugh, especially for a queen. “Yeah, yeah,” she said. “Go on then, take it with my blessing. Just try to bring it back this time, would you? Intact?”

River smiled, ducked her head, gently picking up the vase, which was not remotely as heavy as it looked like it should be. “I shall try my best, ma’am,” she said. “And you do know how good my best is.” She took the queen’s hand with her free one, hugging the vase gently against her side, and kissed Liz’s knuckles.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Liz rolled her eyes, but used River’s grip on her hand to bring River close enough for a thorough kiss on the lips. “Next time,” she added, stepping back gracefully, “stay awhile. And don’t steal anything.”

River curtsied again, deeply. “I shall try, ma’am,” she said. “And thank you.”

Liz nodded, before slipping her hood back over her face and turning away to melt back into the velvety red drapes surrounding her.

She knew if she turned around, River Song would already be gone.

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