Yowzah Oneshot Collection (1)

6(M)

when passion’s a prison, you can’t break free

It’s a special kind of torture, he thinks.

Strapped into a straight jacket, chains around him. They’re not very tight but they seem to grow heavier as time passes slowly. He thinks he can feel the weight and breadth of each and every link. He watches walls rise around him, watches soldiers come and go in the vast warehouse.

At the moment three walls are built fully, and they are about to start construction on the fourth wall in the morning. Canton has done his job well, reported the deaths of all his friends, and the Doctor snorts under his breath, remembering the genuine tension in his voice as he’d reported River’s death. Leaping off the fiftieth floor – well she did have a certain flair for the dramatic didn’t she?

He shifts uncomfortably, wondering how that all works exactly. How long would Rory and Amy have to ‘play dead’? He knew the bullet Canton had shot them with had included a small dart filled with a drug to make them appear dead, he only hoped it would wear off in time for them to be brought here, according to the plan.

Sitting and waiting had never ever been his strong point in any tactical battle. He hates it. Hates the endless hours he is given to think, hates the annoyingly constant circle the soldier marches in during the night shift. Time could be set by his stoic footfalls.

The Doctor tilts his head enquiringly, listening to the silence. Footfalls – something about footfalls and he was – “Hello, sweetie,” River slides around the corner of his prison, a smile on her face and a purr in her voice that makes him shift in his chair. She is still wearing the jeans he’d last seen her in, but they are caked with mud around the hems, she has long since lost the jacket and at some point seems to have exchanged her blouse for a tank top that hugs her body. Her gun belt is still slung over her hips and he licks his lips, pressing his thighs together in an effort not to react.

“River? What are you doing here? You’ll ruin everything-”

“Oh please, sweetie.” She strolls into his cell with a roll of her eyes, scanning the wall behind him carefully. “The guard isn’t due for relief for another three hours, and he’ll be good and asleep until then.” She winks and blows a kiss in his direction. “Which reminds me...” she pulls a handkerchief out of her pocket, wiping her mouth and tucking it back into her jeans.  “So, miss me?”

“But how are you here? Canton told me – you’d jumped off the building. What did you just use your manipulator halfway down?” He scoffs and she laughs lightly, arching her eyebrows teasingly.

“You’re so terrible with spoilers, my love. I suppose I will – but I haven’t yet. I like it though, definitely beats waiting around in one of those body bags. Saves me time too – you’ll just catch me.” She grins and he curses inwardly.

“How long has it been for you? Since we left the warehouse?” His voice is urgent and she moves closer, her hand lifting and her fingers trailing through the beard there. Her nails against the skin of his jaw and neck feel so good he can’t even bite back the moan that rises at her touch.

“It’s June for me. When did I jump to? Hmmm...” Her fingers scratch at him lightly and she studies his face intently. “Judging by the length, I’d say just about three months? July then. I’m a bit off,” she frowns down at her manipulator, still strapped to her wrist and smoking lightly. “Ah well, I’ll fix it after.”

“After what?” He frowns in confusion and she laughs.

“I am in desperate need of a change of clothing, honey. And a bath. Maybe the hot tub.”

“River!” He scolds her, horrified by her teasing expression, “we are in the middle of a war, and you’re popping out for a soak?”  Her lips quirk for a moment, a twitch upwards as her eyes sparkle and she looks down at him.