I Declare - (11th Doctor, River Song)
Title: I Declare
Author: betawho
Rating: PG-13 (for innuendo)
Characters: 11th Doctor, River Song
Words: 584
Author's Note: I take no responsibility for this! It's all dollsome's fault! - She prompted me to write a "good pretending-to-be-a-couple River/Doctor story. I mean, they ARE a couple, but having to appear overtly couple-y in some kind of public situation.")
Summary: The Doctor and River visit a world with some unusual customs.
"Do you have anything to declare, Madame?" the spaceport attendant asked.
"Only my husband," River said. The Doctor glared at her, looking sullen. A red lead was attached to a collar around his neck. It was playing hell with his bow tie.
The female attendant looked up. She looked the Doctor over dubiously. "Primary husband, or secondary?"
River bit down on a smile at the growling noise the Doctor made. The spaceport buzzed and squeaked and roared with talking voices and animals being shipped and the general hubbub of an agricultural port.
"Oh, Primary I should think." She could feel the Doctor glaring daggers into the back of her head. It's amazing her hair didn't catch fire.
The attendant studied the psychic paper and looked up, giving the Doctor a dismissive once over. "He's going to fry if you keep him covered up like that."
River, in a lightweight summer dress, arms gleaming with sweat from the broken down air conditioning, gave a smug smile. "He's far too pretty to share." The Doctor gurgled in indignation. She tugged gently on his lead.
The attendant shrugged. "Doesn't look like he's worth that much," she said under her breath. She stamped the psychic paper and handed it back. "Enjoy your stay on Sheba. Make a note of the local male curfew and local statutes posted by the exits. Next!"
River pocketed the psychic paper, picked up her suitcase, and tugged the Doctor along on his lead.
"You are enjoying this entirely too much," the Doctor grumbled under his breath as they joined the throng.
"Oh, don't you know it," she said.
She looked around, bright eyed, women were leading men along on colored leads all over the spaceport, often in groups of two or three or more. She saw one petite woman clipping along, leading a well ordered harem of a dozen loincloth wearing men. "You go girl," she muttered under her breath.
"I heard that," the Doctor grumped.
She looked back at him, her eyes roamed over him, thoroughly over dressed in bow tie and tweed. He saw the look and got a panicked expression on his face. He wagged a finger at her. "Don't you even think about it!"
She cocked her head. "Spoilsport."
He clenched his jaw and glared at her, eyes blazing above a primped mouth. "We are only here to find the escape pod. We aren't staying," he reminded her firmly.
Her eyes drifted up the length of stitched red leather lead that attached him to her. "River!"
River looked up from her daydream and rolled her eyes. "Fine, honey. Have it your own way."
She turned and almost ran into a large female security guard. The woman was over six feet tall and four feet wide, all muscle, and she was holding a shock staff in a rather militant fashion.
"Is there a problem here?" she asked politely, keeping a leery eye on the fuming Doctor. "Aggressive males aren't allowed on the concourse," she said sternly.
"No, no," River waved it away with a laugh. "He's not aggressive, just noisy." The Doctor huffed behind her. She grinned. "We'll just be on our way."
She tugged him along lightly, not looking back. She could feel him plodding along behind her, resentfully.
"Next time," the Doctor said in a dire voice, "we are going to Bershan." A world with entirely the opposite social problem. She'd be the one on the lead there.
River turned, eyes glittering wildly, and gave him a truly unholy grin. "You mean we haven't been?"
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Author: betawho
Rating: PG-13 (for innuendo)
Characters: 11th Doctor, River Song
Words: 584
Author's Note: I take no responsibility for this! It's all dollsome's fault! - She prompted me to write a "good pretending-to-be-a-couple River/Doctor story. I mean, they ARE a couple, but having to appear overtly couple-y in some kind of public situation.")
Summary: The Doctor and River visit a world with some unusual customs.
"Do you have anything to declare, Madame?" the spaceport attendant asked.
"Only my husband," River said. The Doctor glared at her, looking sullen. A red lead was attached to a collar around his neck. It was playing hell with his bow tie.
The female attendant looked up. She looked the Doctor over dubiously. "Primary husband, or secondary?"
River bit down on a smile at the growling noise the Doctor made. The spaceport buzzed and squeaked and roared with talking voices and animals being shipped and the general hubbub of an agricultural port.
"Oh, Primary I should think." She could feel the Doctor glaring daggers into the back of her head. It's amazing her hair didn't catch fire.
The attendant studied the psychic paper and looked up, giving the Doctor a dismissive once over. "He's going to fry if you keep him covered up like that."
River, in a lightweight summer dress, arms gleaming with sweat from the broken down air conditioning, gave a smug smile. "He's far too pretty to share." The Doctor gurgled in indignation. She tugged gently on his lead.
The attendant shrugged. "Doesn't look like he's worth that much," she said under her breath. She stamped the psychic paper and handed it back. "Enjoy your stay on Sheba. Make a note of the local male curfew and local statutes posted by the exits. Next!"
River pocketed the psychic paper, picked up her suitcase, and tugged the Doctor along on his lead.
"You are enjoying this entirely too much," the Doctor grumbled under his breath as they joined the throng.
"Oh, don't you know it," she said.
She looked around, bright eyed, women were leading men along on colored leads all over the spaceport, often in groups of two or three or more. She saw one petite woman clipping along, leading a well ordered harem of a dozen loincloth wearing men. "You go girl," she muttered under her breath.
"I heard that," the Doctor grumped.
She looked back at him, her eyes roamed over him, thoroughly over dressed in bow tie and tweed. He saw the look and got a panicked expression on his face. He wagged a finger at her. "Don't you even think about it!"
She cocked her head. "Spoilsport."
He clenched his jaw and glared at her, eyes blazing above a primped mouth. "We are only here to find the escape pod. We aren't staying," he reminded her firmly.
Her eyes drifted up the length of stitched red leather lead that attached him to her. "River!"
River looked up from her daydream and rolled her eyes. "Fine, honey. Have it your own way."
She turned and almost ran into a large female security guard. The woman was over six feet tall and four feet wide, all muscle, and she was holding a shock staff in a rather militant fashion.
"Is there a problem here?" she asked politely, keeping a leery eye on the fuming Doctor. "Aggressive males aren't allowed on the concourse," she said sternly.
"No, no," River waved it away with a laugh. "He's not aggressive, just noisy." The Doctor huffed behind her. She grinned. "We'll just be on our way."
She tugged him along lightly, not looking back. She could feel him plodding along behind her, resentfully.
"Next time," the Doctor said in a dire voice, "we are going to Bershan." A world with entirely the opposite social problem. She'd be the one on the lead there.
River turned, eyes glittering wildly, and gave him a truly unholy grin. "You mean we haven't been?"
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