Yowzah Oneshot Collection (1)

37(G)1

Thump. He grins as he walks - well scurries really - behind his wife, his hand clutching the handle of the canvas bag he’d swiftly taken from her. He was being chivalrous, really. He swings his arms and the bag hits another wall as they round the corner, the dull thud echoing around them.

“I do need him alive, you know sweetie,” River glares back at him, her hand tightening in his as they hear the clanging echo of the sodding bastard’s giant robot body behind them.

He grins innocently and lifts his arm, swinging the bag in an arc around him, uncaring as it hits a chair next to them. “He’s alive, can’t you hear?” He shakes the bag a bit harder and muffled yells come out of it as she rolls her eyes.

“You’re being careless,” she scolds as she tries a door to their left with the hand that isn’t holding his. It’s locked though and she growls under her breath.

“Probably because I couldn’t care less,” he mutters as she drags him across the hall, down another corridor and tries another knob. Success this time - it opens easily and she yanks him inside, slamming the door shut and locking it behind them, pushing him aside to reach. Of course he’s a bit off balance - no free hands you see - and he falls back into the door with a dull thud. He grins and lifts his arm, letting the bag thud against it again as she shushes him and leans against him, her ear to the door. This close, he can feel her hearts racing against his chest and he takes a moment to savour the harmony of them against his own.

“You’re not helping!” She hisses, and he startles, realising he’d been swinging the bag back and forth against the door frame. “He’ll have a bloody concussion!”

“Good,” he shoots back snidely. “Perhaps then he’ll forget that he’s married.”

“Oh like you’re one to talk!” She glares at him as he continues on, unrepentant. “Would you stop that please?”

“Anything for you , dear,” he grins as he drops the bag with a heavy thud and she huffs in annoyance. “What now? We can’t hide in a storage room all night. His body will be here any minute.”

“And we won’t be. There’s a window,” she nods over her shoulder and sure enough, there is indeed a window, plate glass and sealed shut. “I just have to open it…” she is pulling out her trowel - honestly - a sonic trowel. Brian Pond would be delighted if he knew.

The Doctor snatches the bag up with glee though and pushes past her. “How fortuitous. He can go first.” And without pause he swings the bag, releasing it and sending it sailing through the window, breaking the glass and soaring out in to the inky blackness below. The Doctor pauses, listening and they hear a soft thud. “Only ten meters and look, a snowbank. Shall we, my dear?” She huffs and looks like she wants to scold him but the sound of heavy footsteps down the corridor makes her take his hand instead. He unlatches the window - oops wasn’t that convenient? - and they clamber on to the sill together with childish grins of glee. “Ready?”

“Always,” she laughs and they leap, falling straight down until they land with a hard thud, knocking the breath out of them. He is on his back, snow creeping down his shirt and River is somewhat on top of him and he can’t help laughing in delight. What an adventure! Of course it is - it’s River - she always seems to incite the most amazing events whenever she is around. Mostly because she causes them, but hell if that doesn’t thrill him too. “This is a serious mission, there is nothing to laugh about here.” River insists as she gets up and next to him the bag is protesting loudly.

“We’re being threatened by a bag!” His tone is far too gleeful as they scramble to their feet and once again he is snatching the handle of the bag as she grabs his hand again.

“He’d be less threatening if you hadn’t thrown him down those stairs!” She stares at him as he beams and shrugs, attempting to look innocent. He thinks the eyebrows ruin it - bloody things always ruin it, don’t they?

“I needed two hands to slide down the rail!” She simply squeezes his hand harder as the scramble through the heavy snow. “You’re the one who handed me the bag, River.”

“Because I needed two hands to shoot! It’s not like you could build a cabinet around a giant bloody robot - strategically it’s more useful for me to be hands free.” She shouts over her shoulder, her curls bouncing as they slip and slide like children through the fresh snow - but she can’t quite keep the mirth off her face, nor can she keep the giggle out of her tone. He grins in response, shaking the bag a little bit harder as he runs next to her. “Besides, you’re my husband - that’s your job, isn’t it?”

He preens a bit at that, and pulls her to a halt, dropping the bag with another heavy thud as he drags her closer and kisses her - both of them breathless from the chase. She hums in approval, pausing to wind her arms around him and snogging the daylights out of him as she grins against his mouth. When she pulls back she is shaking her head and grinning up at him. “Such a jealous idiot.”

“Well I’ll introduce a second wife to you and we’ll see how you do then,” he points out as she rolls her eyes.

“It’s a job sweetie,” she presses one more kiss to his mouth and he smiles soppily down at her, unable to stop himself. “It’s not a real marriage.”

“I don’t think that would matter to you if the reverse were true. And you know it,” he pulls back, stroking along her nose and she positively beams up at him at the gesture, her nose crinkling adorably. Bloody hell but she turns him into an old fool - every time.

“But you’d love it,” she points out and he nods in agreement.

“Aye, and so do you dear.” She huffs at that and he reaches a foot out, kicking at the bag a bit as she tries to glare, but her eyes are far too lit up and her cheeks far too flush for any disapproval to be remotely convincing. “Now, shall we run? Or do you fancy matching cells?”

“We’ve already done every prison fantasy I can think of my love,” she breathes the words out with a grin and he sways into her, greedy for the innuendo as it spills from her lips. Because they really really had. “So I suppose running it is,” she grins and he lets her grab his hand once more. He snatches up the bag and they carry on, running around through the wrought iron gates of the grounds. He swings his arm out a bit and giggles as she rolls her eyes.

Thwack.