Yowzah Oneshot Collection (1)

37(G)6

CHAPTER - 6

not a look of greeting after an absence

"Wanker," his words are spoken to himself in theory, but out loud and quite within earshot of everyone around him, so the theory part really falls through when tested. "What? Now you look at me?" He snaps at River, pushing himself up from the ground and glaring at her as she stares at him incredulously.

They'd been fine. Having fun - a fall in a snowbank and a daring escape and a good laugh, something he feels like he hasn't had in years, and finally her focus on him - all ruined by sodding Ramone (what kind of a fucking name is Ramone anyway? He'll never be able to hear it again without leaving a bad taste in his mouth. How will he ever listen to Blitzkrieg Bop again?!) and his helping hands, and mouth and really - he was a tosspot. All young and pristine and fucking gorgeous - why the fuck would she look at him when he's standing next to this arsehole?

She wouldn't, of course. And she hadn't. No, she was too busy giving thank you kisses to blokes who offer her a hand up, not paying any attention to the fact that her sodding husband is right here. The real one - the only one that matters, anyway. He thinks. He hopes. He glares at Ramone too, full eyebrows in effect as River shakes her head in confusion. "You, Raymond," he grumbles, shoving the duffle bag into the prick's hands so that they can stay off of his wife, "take this."

"My name is Ra-"

"I don't care," the Doctor speaks bluntly and River huffs in irritation.

"Listen, Granddad," she pokes his chest with a finger and the Doctor is torn between reaching for her hand and yanking her to him, and rubbing his chest and hiding away. It's a code of honour between them - they never let the other one see this sort of stuff, but he's not himself right now, and he's irritated to all hell, so he stands his ground, glaring down at her too.

"What?"

It's not the snogging (really it had barely been a kiss, and comparatively speaking he's nothing to complain about and he's pretty sure she knows that. Or would if she knew who he was.), he tells himself fiercely. It's not even the marriages or her free use of that sodding wonderful stupid lipstick she likes to drug everyone (including him) with. It's the fact that she keeps calling him Granddad (she'll regret that later, he thinks, and if she doesn't he'll make sure of it afterward in bed) and ignoring all of his fumbling attempts to impress her. How the fucking hell does one impress River Song? Because he's been trying - full-out, frankly fucking embarrassingly trying since the moment he realized she didn't have a clue who he was.

None of it works. She barely glances in his direction, relegating him to useless tasks that keep him out of her way while she handles the fun stuff. And he's a bit put out by it (a lot put out by it, shut up) because it suddenly has him questioning everything he'd thought about their marriage. About how she felt about him - shouldn't she just know? Somehow?

"Don't get tetchy with me just because it's past your bed time, old man," River is practically shimmering with irritation and anger - but at least she's noticing him, and perversely, it thrills him. Fine. If this is what it takes, so be it.

"Excuse me but who here is the elder? What did you say earlier? Five hundred and seventy?" Ramone's mouth drops open at that and he nods with glee at the stupid man. "Kind of puts Oedipus complex way off the table, doesn't it, Roofus?"

"Shut up," River pokes him again, her eyes flashing dangerously and he lifts his brows in mock surprise.

"Or what? You'll spank me, crone? Please. We don't have time for you to kiss every bloody tosser that comes our way! Giant robot husband who'd like to murder you, remember?" (Okay maybe he's a little bothered by the kiss. It's hypocritical, he's aware, shut the fuck up.)