A Banquet of Riches
Title: A Banquet of Riches
Author: betawho
Rating: PG
Characters: River Song, All 11 Doctors
Words: 475
River looked around her and her eyes got brighter and brighter.
It hadn’t been her fault this time, and she was doing her best to help fix it. They’d linked up the ships into a recursive stasis loop. All they had to do was surround the black hole and force it backward in time to just before its creation, then seal it off.
It was only a little black hole, but, by definition, they all were at heart.
The problem was the engineers. They were working together, but they couldn’t stop arguing.
The burly older one with the amazing white hair and magnificent physique, was arguing with a shorter, extremely energetic one in checkered pants. That cute little powder-keg over there was poking his umbrella at a much larger, deliciously teddy-bearish one who was waving his arms in wide remonstration, his colorful attire speaking of a self-confidence that had delightful possibilities.
A broody, butch, athletic looking one in black leather sent an appreciative shiver down her spine as he resolutely ignored the advice of a white haired spry older one who had a hint of naughtiness around his eyes, the old rogue turned and winked at her, as he strode off happily to find another to berate.
An extremely tall and rangy limbed one stretched up, throwing a loop of coils over one of the Tardises, loudly yelling instructions. Even the dire situation couldn’t dampen his playful attitude, and something in River’s daredevil makeup just responded to that toothy grin, and that commanding baritone voice.
The silky haired, poetic eyed one who caught the coil on the other side of the Tardis had an enticing “still waters run deep” sort of quietness. He also had a lushly touchable compact form, all silky hair, velvet coat and soft cravat.
River watched avidly as he fed out the line with strong, skillful hands... similarly strong hands took the cable, and her eyes swooped up to a wholesome, golden boy face, that had “you know what they say about the preacher’s son” ideas flitting through her head.
He traded some technobabble and a nod then squatted to splice the cable into the others. Her eyes wandered down to the red pin stripes that stretched nicely over a muscular length of thigh, just as the blue on brown pinstripes beside him molded a truly lovely, (and familiar) bum as its owner crawled around the relay box, enthusiastically slotting in cables.
“River, wipe that look off your face,” her Doctor said in a husky voice as he walked up behind her and leaned in too close, his messy quiff tickling her ear. She turned and grinned up at him.
“I can’t help it, sweetie.” She turned and waved an expansive hand over the array of Doctors, busily bickering, and tinkering, and saving the world. “It’s a banquet of riches!"
Her eyes darkened and her voice thrummed. "I need a spoon!"