Yowzah Oneshot Collection (1)

45(M)

south of the river you stop and you hold everything

Sometimes, she could just slap him.

She woke with a start, her hearts pounding at the sight of her husband’s face, so close to her own his breath tickled her cheek. She clutched a hand to her chest and glared at him. “What in the hell are you doing?”

“Watching you sleep. Then I was wondering if you slept like me, you know – just a bit at a time. Because honestly, we never seem to do a lot of sleeping when we spend time together.” He stopped at that, a faint blush crossing his cheekbones before he cleared his throat. “And then I was wondering if I should wake you- but what if you hadn’t slept in a very long time? That would be rude of me. Then I got a bit distracted because I was looking at your hair and wondering how it actually stays that curly, even when you’re lying flat on it. It’s a bit like you’ve got a built in pillow. That’s nice. I should try curly again next time, what do you think?” He ran a hand over his hair but didn’t wait for a response. “Then I wondered if I could count all the curls but I lost count at one hundred and fifty-two because you smiled in your sleep and I looked at your mouth and lost count because I tend to do that. Not lose count, specifically, but lose my train of thought when I look at your mouth. And then you woke up.”

She blinked at him in silence for a moment, before sighing and rolling into a sitting position, her back against the concrete wall. She dragged a hand over her face, more fully awake now and she looked over his shoulder to see the TARDIS, just outside her cell. “How long have you been here?” She frowned at him and he grinned at her from where he was sat on the floor.

“Thirty-seven minutes and fourteen seconds. No, fifteen, sixteen, sevente-”

“I get it, sweetie.” She held up a hand and took a deep breath, exhaling with a sigh. “Okay. Why are you here? And when are we for you?”

She reached under her pillow, pulling her diary out from under it and he smiled at her, his eyes lighting up. “We just did Vienna. Have you done it yet?”

“Oh, yes.” She smiled at the memory – he’d been so young and new then - and she slid to the edge of the bed, her bare feet brushing against the cold concrete. “Hello, sweetie.”

“Hello, dear. I’m glad you’re awake finally, because I just discovered that there is a planet of hammocks, River. Hammocks. Well, known for their hammocks – hammocks everywhere! Excellent atmosphere, tropical climate, friendly indigenous species.  I love a good hammock. Beds. You can swing in. Best thing ever!” He clapped and jumped up and she looked up at him with exasperated affection. He was such a child at times, but she’d almost never been one herself – not really – so as much as she protested and rolled her eyes, she secretly adored his unabashed joy.

“You’re taking me to a planet filled with beds? One of those adventures, is it?” She grinned and he opened his mouth in protest.

“No! Well, maybe. I wouldn’t say no-”

“You never say no, sweetie.” She pointed out calmly, standing with her diary in hand and moving past him to grab her satchel. She entered the TARDIS ahead of him, bouncing up the stairs, now more fully awake and ready to deal with her erstwhile husband.  She laid a hand against the console and the TARDIS tickled her palm. “Tropical season please, dear.” She whispered to the ship. “I’ve a mind to wear something shocking.” The ship hummed in response and River continued across to the other stairs. “I’m going to change. Tropical Doctor. If we end up on a sub-arctic planet while I’m in a swimsuit again, it could be grounds for divorce.”

“Ha! You’d never, River Song. Wait – swimsuit?” His voice echoed down the corridor after her, high pitched and squeaky and she laughed to herself as she headed to the wardrobe.