River Song was curled up in the nearby armchair, updating her diary on the most recent adventures she had just enjoyed with the Doctor. She kept looking over to him with a fond sort of smile, watching him sleep. She occasionally went back to her diary, adding a few more lines before she coyly looked to the Doctor once again. She finished describing the moment they had jumped from the very top of the Nova Grid tower before she closed her diary, having had enough of writing for one night
( ... )
"On the contrary, you're clearly knowing me better and better," said River, with a smile that held true satisfaction. She only played these games with him because if she didn't, she'd surely lament over how little he understood her.
He knew what she had to be thinking; little did she know that the first time he saw her was the last day of her life. It always lurked in the back of his mind, even though he pushed it away and bantered and sputtered whenever she was around. "Clearly," the Doctor replied with a grin. She knew him so well; he had to wonder how that would change as time went on.
River watched him for a moment longer before her smile softened and she looked away from him. She climbed off the bed to fetch her diary from the armchair, flipping it open as she returned. "Nearly done with our entry," she told him as she sat back down, soon deciding to get comfortable as she laid down upon her back, holding the diary above her.
"Fine, fine," the Doctor told her, laying on his back as he withdrew a large and complicated-looking book from the nightstand next to him, flipping through it until he found his place again. "I won't peek." He never did, despite being tempted to on occasion; it was their story.
River grinned to herself at his words, reading over what she had already written so far. She'd most likely finish the rest once she was back in Stormcage. It was a nice way to keep the Doctor in her thoughts when she was left alone in that place.
For almost as long as he'd known River, she'd been stuck in the Stormcage. He couldn't help but wonder about the specifics (besides the fact that she was staying there because she had a promise to keep, as she'd told him), but he knew better than to ask. For now, he buried (or pretended to bury) himself in his book and continued his read on ancient theories on temporal physics.
"You should start keeping a diary soon, you know," River remarked, turning her head to look at him as she closed her book and laid it on her chest. "It's already getting quite complicated."
River was right; it was already complicated. It had been complicated from the moment the Doctor met her, even though he'd managed to keep the details straight so far. "I will," he told her. "I'm just trying to see if I can find another one that looks like the TARDIS."
River tipped her head back as she laughed, the sound warm and intoxicating. "Find one?" she asked with amusement. "Where are you going to find one? You should make it." After all, the Doctor had made hers.
The Doctor, for lack of a better word, pouted. "Make one?" he repeated incredulously, looking a little put out that no, there weren't little TARDIS diaries available somewhere. "But I don't Want to make one."
"Oh, you'd love it," she said as she chuckled, rolling on her side to face him. She raised a hand to sweep her curls from her face, smiling as she watched him pout.
"No, because I don't do crafts," he protested, gesturing dramatically for emphasis. "It'd be like making a scrapbook. Or knitting> Honestly, who knits these days?"
"Make me," she purred deliciously, sparking the beginnings of taunt she'd use later in her life, when she battled back-to-back with the Doctor. But, of course, he already knew that.
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For the most part, they were absolute rubbish.
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