[doctor who fic] how to snuggle with your time lady in five easy steps (1/6), pg
How to Snuggle with Your Time Lady in 5 Easy Steps
- doctor who
- river/doctor
- pg
- 2000
- for tenacious_err - happy v-day (heh) sweetie!
- aka, five times river and the doctor cuddle, and one time they don't.
- i really wish this title weren't my fault. but it is. forgive me.
It should surprise him, he knows, to see her there, curled up on his bed in his room on his TARDIS. He should probably be a bit disgruntled, or at least grudgingly intrigued as to how she knows where his room is located. But she looks so peaceful, legs tucked near her chest and her hair fanned out over the pillow; she's still in her clothes, her belt and holster discarded on the far nightstand. Her shoes are off, and she's wearing socks over her cut-off leggings.
Socks. River Song in socks.
He shakes his head, smiling, and closes the door softly behind him. He hesitates, standing in the middle of his room awkwardly, wondering if he should wake her and how, if he should let her sleep, if she really is sleeping - he thought he saw her breathing change, but he might have imagined it (her chest is very distracting). To keep himself from pacing, he moves to sit on the edge of the bed near her waist. He stares straight ahead for a moment, as still as possible, then glances at her over his shoulder. She's facing him, one hand tucked under her head, the other palm up a few inches away. He wants to touch her, suddenly. Stroke his fingers over hers, feel her pulse in her wrist, trace the veins up her arms. He wants to brush her hair back from her face and study her like a museum piece.
Hesitantly, he touches a finger to her palm.
Her breathing changes instantly and she shifts, eyes fluttering open. He pulls his hand back quickly.
"Morning," he says, though it comes out much softer than he intended.
Half asleep, River manages a slight roll of her eyes before pressing her cheek further into the pillow. "It's not morning. It's never morning on the TARDIS."
The Doctor looks mildly affronted and straightens his jacket primly. "Unless I want it to be. Then I can have all the mornings I want."
Muffled: "Oh, really?"
He hesitates. "Well. If she lets me, of course," he admits. "But she usually does. She likes mornings - breakfast mostly. You can have anything for breakfast! Pancakes, eggs, bacon, cereal, toast, Jammie Dodgers--"
"For breakfast?"
He gives her a short glare. "Jammie Dodgers are always appropriate."
"Unless you're looking for nutrients," she mumbles.
The Doctor affects a pout, mumbling a grudging, "Yes, well…" and she smiles, propping herself up on her elbow and placing a hand gently on his knee. He starts, then quickly relaxes and shoots her an apologetic smile.
"So. Where are we?"
"Just left Ona in the Dundra System," he says, tearing his eyes away from her hand, "Gorgeous planet, half sand, half water, everything made out of clay! You'd have loved it," he says proudly. "You could have dug for stuff."
River stifles a laugh and arches an eyebrow. " 'Dug for stuff' ?"
"Isn't that what you archaeologists do?"
There's enough innuendo in her tone to make him blush, and her fingers making soft spiral patterns on his knee doesn't help matters. "Oh, we do a lot more than dig, sweetie."
Swallowing tightly, he looks away quickly and fiddles with his jacket sleeves. "Oh, yes, I forgot, you write down what you dug up."
"Oh, shut up."
He grins. "Never."
River smiles and shakes her head fondly. "So who did you run from this time, dare I ask?"
"No running!" he grumbles, "It's not always running, I'll have you know. There's a good deal of saving involved as well! I saved a whole hemisphere," he preens. She doesn't blink. "Well, a country." Silence. "City, really." River neatly raises an eyebrow, and the Doctor huffs. "Well, not so much a city as a small town…house."
"A townhouse," she repeats flatly.
"The residents were very grateful!" he insists. She bites her lip to keep a straight face. "Fine. Resident. But he gave me a hat!" His face falls. "Amy took it."
"Good for her."
"Oi! What is it with you and my hats?"
"They're just such easy targets, sweetie."
"Yeah, on my head!" he protests, pointing wildly to his hair. "Targets on my head!"
"Afraid I'll miss?" she teases.
"Not intentionally," he mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest for a moment, then unfolding them. He shifts, hooks one leg other the other, shifts again, then puts both feet flat on the floor. River smiles gently, easing him back into conversation.
"As glad as I am for the resident of the townhouse," she begins.
"Hey! It could have been a whole town!"
"- our location isn't what I meant." He frowns. "Diaries, sweetie."
"Oh! Right." He presses both hands to his chest, as if realising he'd forgotten something. "Um."
"Have we done Heiradi?" He shakes his head. "East Taiwan?" Another negative. River sits up, pulling her hand away from the Doctor, her shoulders tensing. "Doctor… you do know who I am?"
"What?"
She inhales sharply.
"Oh! Yes! Yes, all caught up with the prison and the dying and the marrying." He smirks, but at the same time feels a prick of guilt for the relief that washes over her face. "Sorry," he says quickly, scuffing his shoes against the floor. "Ah, last time I saw you was Muscolane - I still can't get the smell out of my jacket," he bemoans, sniffing the inside of his new one and releasing a happy sigh at the pleasant odour.
His expression falters when he sees her face, just a little less bright than it was moments ago.
"Ah," she intones carefully, moving away from him. "Early days for you then."
The Doctor sputters. "Early? How am I early, we're all timey whimey and and handcuffs and- and- and married! How do you do later than married!"
She smiles gently. "You'll see." He starts to protest when she moves, scooting off the other side of the bed and grabbing her boots. "I should go."
He watches her for a moment, the curve of her spine beneath the familiar olive-coloured dress, the way her hair settles over her shoulders. It's longer than he remembers from the last time.
"Where are you, River?"
She peers at him over her shoulder as she tugs on a shoe. "I'm right here."
"You know what I mean."
It's barely perceptible, but he catches it nonetheless: her hands falter, shaking just slightly before she settles them firmly in her lap. "Demon's Run," she says, "About three months ago." There's a long, aching pause before her voice drops and she turns away. "I haven't seen you since."
"I'm sorry," he murmurs.
She shakes her head and throws him a too-wide smile. "I get 'round just fine on my own."
"I have no doubt."
There's a pause, taught and thin, between them, both waiting for the other. River fiddles with her holster and belt, securing them both around her waist as she rounds the bed toward him. The Doctor taps his feet on the floor and tries to look anywhere except at her, but his eyes keep drawing back, sneaking glances against his will.
He wants her to stay.
The desire and apprehension coil around his lungs. He stands abruptly and turns to face her, ready to say something - anything - when she speaks.
"I should probably go before Amy and Rory wake u--"
"They're asleep." He blurts out, stumbling over his words in a rush. "Lots of running and fighting and saving - and Amy had a fair bit of exercise destroying my hat, and Rory, well, Rory's not as Roman as he used to be and it's not really morning, you know. I mean, it's morning somewhere, but it could just as easily be afternoon or evening or Second Midnight, as some planets do."
She stares at him blankly, but her breathing hitches just slightly. "Doctor?"
He bites his lips and scratches his head nervously. "I mean, I can drop you somewhere if you--"
She quickly interrupts. "No, I just-- I--" She shrugs lightly, deceptively casual, but her voice is soft, soften than he's ever heard it, and it makes his heartbeat stutter. "I came here to see you, my love. I just expected an older you, is all. Though I must admit you're handling this rather well."
He blinks and looks up sharply. "Handling what?"
Her lips curl up slightly. "In case you hadn't noticed, we are in your bedroom."
"I can think of worse places for you to be."
The moment he says it he freezes, staring across at her with wide eyes and a tinge to his cheeks. He thinks about backtracking, inserting some sort of qualifier, but then she smiles, just barely, just the corners of her lips turned up and her eyes soft and slightly downcast and her expression is so genuine, free of any teasing or sadness or lies; and she looks so beautiful, so perfectly content with his words and the moment between them that he can't bear to break it - to see that mask slip back into place.
So he does the only thing that makes any sense - closing the space between them, he rests a hand on her arm tentatively and kisses her, a simple brush of his lips against hers. One of her hands mimics his, her fingers curling around his jacket near his shoulder while her other arm snakes between them, palm pressed flat over his hearts.
After a moment he pulls away slightly, dropping his forehead to hers. The hand on his shoulder reaches up to cup the back of his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair.
"Hello," he murmurs.
Her eyes flutter open and she smiles. "Hello, sweetie."
He grins, instinctively moving closer and placing his free hand on her hip. "I like it when you call me that."
"I know."
"I know you know." He moves back just enough to meet her gaze, his voice quiet. "Demon's Run, eh?"
"For the second time."
"Are you all right?"
"Are you?" she counters. He hesitates, and she kisses him briefly in reassurance. "Not one line, my love. Not even one."
He inhales shakily but nods. "I promise."
Whether or not it's a lie, he doesn't yet know. But she seems appeased, stepping back slightly, trailing her hands down his arms to tangle with his. "You look tired."
Straightening up, he gives an indignant huff. "I'm a Time Lord, I don't get tired."
"Of course not, my love."
"Don't humour me with that humoured tone of humouring, River Song."
She smoothes down his bow tie. "Wouldn't dream of it."
Hesitating, the Doctor catches her eye, then quickly looks away.
Frowning, River tightens her grip on his hand. "Doctor?"
"If I - we - were to sleep - and I'm not saying I need to - is there any chance-- chance you'd, um... Still be…here when I, you know, hypothetically, woke up? Not that I'll need to, because I won't sleep, of course."
"Of course," she agrees teasingly.
He swallows the lump in his throat. "Well?"
"I'd say the odds are in your favour, if you like."
He almost giggles at that, a reaction she's come to love, before tugging her hand toward the bed. He sits down, bouncing slightly, before taking off his shoes, jacket, braces and bow-tie. River follows suit, curling up next to him on top of the covers as soon as he lies down. He rolls over, facing her, and reaches out to toy with an errant curl.
"I'm not going to sleep, you know," he says quietly. "I'm just closing my eyes for a minute; my eyebrows are sore."
"What eyebrows?"
He cracks one eye open. "Oi!"
River chuckles softly and inches closer, gripping his hand in hers as he tucks his head under her chin. "Sleep, my love," she murmurs, brushing her fingers through his hair. "I won't tell a soul."
part two
- doctor who
- river/doctor
- pg
- 2000
- for tenacious_err - happy v-day (heh) sweetie!
- aka, five times river and the doctor cuddle, and one time they don't.
- i really wish this title weren't my fault. but it is. forgive me.
It should surprise him, he knows, to see her there, curled up on his bed in his room on his TARDIS. He should probably be a bit disgruntled, or at least grudgingly intrigued as to how she knows where his room is located. But she looks so peaceful, legs tucked near her chest and her hair fanned out over the pillow; she's still in her clothes, her belt and holster discarded on the far nightstand. Her shoes are off, and she's wearing socks over her cut-off leggings.
Socks. River Song in socks.
He shakes his head, smiling, and closes the door softly behind him. He hesitates, standing in the middle of his room awkwardly, wondering if he should wake her and how, if he should let her sleep, if she really is sleeping - he thought he saw her breathing change, but he might have imagined it (her chest is very distracting). To keep himself from pacing, he moves to sit on the edge of the bed near her waist. He stares straight ahead for a moment, as still as possible, then glances at her over his shoulder. She's facing him, one hand tucked under her head, the other palm up a few inches away. He wants to touch her, suddenly. Stroke his fingers over hers, feel her pulse in her wrist, trace the veins up her arms. He wants to brush her hair back from her face and study her like a museum piece.
Hesitantly, he touches a finger to her palm.
Her breathing changes instantly and she shifts, eyes fluttering open. He pulls his hand back quickly.
"Morning," he says, though it comes out much softer than he intended.
Half asleep, River manages a slight roll of her eyes before pressing her cheek further into the pillow. "It's not morning. It's never morning on the TARDIS."
The Doctor looks mildly affronted and straightens his jacket primly. "Unless I want it to be. Then I can have all the mornings I want."
Muffled: "Oh, really?"
He hesitates. "Well. If she lets me, of course," he admits. "But she usually does. She likes mornings - breakfast mostly. You can have anything for breakfast! Pancakes, eggs, bacon, cereal, toast, Jammie Dodgers--"
"For breakfast?"
He gives her a short glare. "Jammie Dodgers are always appropriate."
"Unless you're looking for nutrients," she mumbles.
The Doctor affects a pout, mumbling a grudging, "Yes, well…" and she smiles, propping herself up on her elbow and placing a hand gently on his knee. He starts, then quickly relaxes and shoots her an apologetic smile.
"So. Where are we?"
"Just left Ona in the Dundra System," he says, tearing his eyes away from her hand, "Gorgeous planet, half sand, half water, everything made out of clay! You'd have loved it," he says proudly. "You could have dug for stuff."
River stifles a laugh and arches an eyebrow. " 'Dug for stuff' ?"
"Isn't that what you archaeologists do?"
There's enough innuendo in her tone to make him blush, and her fingers making soft spiral patterns on his knee doesn't help matters. "Oh, we do a lot more than dig, sweetie."
Swallowing tightly, he looks away quickly and fiddles with his jacket sleeves. "Oh, yes, I forgot, you write down what you dug up."
"Oh, shut up."
He grins. "Never."
River smiles and shakes her head fondly. "So who did you run from this time, dare I ask?"
"No running!" he grumbles, "It's not always running, I'll have you know. There's a good deal of saving involved as well! I saved a whole hemisphere," he preens. She doesn't blink. "Well, a country." Silence. "City, really." River neatly raises an eyebrow, and the Doctor huffs. "Well, not so much a city as a small town…house."
"A townhouse," she repeats flatly.
"The residents were very grateful!" he insists. She bites her lip to keep a straight face. "Fine. Resident. But he gave me a hat!" His face falls. "Amy took it."
"Good for her."
"Oi! What is it with you and my hats?"
"They're just such easy targets, sweetie."
"Yeah, on my head!" he protests, pointing wildly to his hair. "Targets on my head!"
"Afraid I'll miss?" she teases.
"Not intentionally," he mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest for a moment, then unfolding them. He shifts, hooks one leg other the other, shifts again, then puts both feet flat on the floor. River smiles gently, easing him back into conversation.
"As glad as I am for the resident of the townhouse," she begins.
"Hey! It could have been a whole town!"
"- our location isn't what I meant." He frowns. "Diaries, sweetie."
"Oh! Right." He presses both hands to his chest, as if realising he'd forgotten something. "Um."
"Have we done Heiradi?" He shakes his head. "East Taiwan?" Another negative. River sits up, pulling her hand away from the Doctor, her shoulders tensing. "Doctor… you do know who I am?"
"What?"
She inhales sharply.
"Oh! Yes! Yes, all caught up with the prison and the dying and the marrying." He smirks, but at the same time feels a prick of guilt for the relief that washes over her face. "Sorry," he says quickly, scuffing his shoes against the floor. "Ah, last time I saw you was Muscolane - I still can't get the smell out of my jacket," he bemoans, sniffing the inside of his new one and releasing a happy sigh at the pleasant odour.
His expression falters when he sees her face, just a little less bright than it was moments ago.
"Ah," she intones carefully, moving away from him. "Early days for you then."
The Doctor sputters. "Early? How am I early, we're all timey whimey and and handcuffs and- and- and married! How do you do later than married!"
She smiles gently. "You'll see." He starts to protest when she moves, scooting off the other side of the bed and grabbing her boots. "I should go."
He watches her for a moment, the curve of her spine beneath the familiar olive-coloured dress, the way her hair settles over her shoulders. It's longer than he remembers from the last time.
"Where are you, River?"
She peers at him over her shoulder as she tugs on a shoe. "I'm right here."
"You know what I mean."
It's barely perceptible, but he catches it nonetheless: her hands falter, shaking just slightly before she settles them firmly in her lap. "Demon's Run," she says, "About three months ago." There's a long, aching pause before her voice drops and she turns away. "I haven't seen you since."
"I'm sorry," he murmurs.
She shakes her head and throws him a too-wide smile. "I get 'round just fine on my own."
"I have no doubt."
There's a pause, taught and thin, between them, both waiting for the other. River fiddles with her holster and belt, securing them both around her waist as she rounds the bed toward him. The Doctor taps his feet on the floor and tries to look anywhere except at her, but his eyes keep drawing back, sneaking glances against his will.
He wants her to stay.
The desire and apprehension coil around his lungs. He stands abruptly and turns to face her, ready to say something - anything - when she speaks.
"I should probably go before Amy and Rory wake u--"
"They're asleep." He blurts out, stumbling over his words in a rush. "Lots of running and fighting and saving - and Amy had a fair bit of exercise destroying my hat, and Rory, well, Rory's not as Roman as he used to be and it's not really morning, you know. I mean, it's morning somewhere, but it could just as easily be afternoon or evening or Second Midnight, as some planets do."
She stares at him blankly, but her breathing hitches just slightly. "Doctor?"
He bites his lips and scratches his head nervously. "I mean, I can drop you somewhere if you--"
She quickly interrupts. "No, I just-- I--" She shrugs lightly, deceptively casual, but her voice is soft, soften than he's ever heard it, and it makes his heartbeat stutter. "I came here to see you, my love. I just expected an older you, is all. Though I must admit you're handling this rather well."
He blinks and looks up sharply. "Handling what?"
Her lips curl up slightly. "In case you hadn't noticed, we are in your bedroom."
"I can think of worse places for you to be."
The moment he says it he freezes, staring across at her with wide eyes and a tinge to his cheeks. He thinks about backtracking, inserting some sort of qualifier, but then she smiles, just barely, just the corners of her lips turned up and her eyes soft and slightly downcast and her expression is so genuine, free of any teasing or sadness or lies; and she looks so beautiful, so perfectly content with his words and the moment between them that he can't bear to break it - to see that mask slip back into place.
So he does the only thing that makes any sense - closing the space between them, he rests a hand on her arm tentatively and kisses her, a simple brush of his lips against hers. One of her hands mimics his, her fingers curling around his jacket near his shoulder while her other arm snakes between them, palm pressed flat over his hearts.
After a moment he pulls away slightly, dropping his forehead to hers. The hand on his shoulder reaches up to cup the back of his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair.
"Hello," he murmurs.
Her eyes flutter open and she smiles. "Hello, sweetie."
He grins, instinctively moving closer and placing his free hand on her hip. "I like it when you call me that."
"I know."
"I know you know." He moves back just enough to meet her gaze, his voice quiet. "Demon's Run, eh?"
"For the second time."
"Are you all right?"
"Are you?" she counters. He hesitates, and she kisses him briefly in reassurance. "Not one line, my love. Not even one."
He inhales shakily but nods. "I promise."
Whether or not it's a lie, he doesn't yet know. But she seems appeased, stepping back slightly, trailing her hands down his arms to tangle with his. "You look tired."
Straightening up, he gives an indignant huff. "I'm a Time Lord, I don't get tired."
"Of course not, my love."
"Don't humour me with that humoured tone of humouring, River Song."
She smoothes down his bow tie. "Wouldn't dream of it."
Hesitating, the Doctor catches her eye, then quickly looks away.
Frowning, River tightens her grip on his hand. "Doctor?"
"If I - we - were to sleep - and I'm not saying I need to - is there any chance-- chance you'd, um... Still be…here when I, you know, hypothetically, woke up? Not that I'll need to, because I won't sleep, of course."
"Of course," she agrees teasingly.
He swallows the lump in his throat. "Well?"
"I'd say the odds are in your favour, if you like."
He almost giggles at that, a reaction she's come to love, before tugging her hand toward the bed. He sits down, bouncing slightly, before taking off his shoes, jacket, braces and bow-tie. River follows suit, curling up next to him on top of the covers as soon as he lies down. He rolls over, facing her, and reaches out to toy with an errant curl.
"I'm not going to sleep, you know," he says quietly. "I'm just closing my eyes for a minute; my eyebrows are sore."
"What eyebrows?"
He cracks one eye open. "Oi!"
River chuckles softly and inches closer, gripping his hand in hers as he tucks his head under her chin. "Sleep, my love," she murmurs, brushing her fingers through his hair. "I won't tell a soul."
part two