Yowzah Oneshot Collection (1)

49(G)8

Chapter 8: pride, prejudice and daleks
Chapter Text
Prompt: river/doctor, pride, prejudice and daleks

“There are plenty of pretty, pleasant girls, Smith. You’re getting as bad as Darcy, you know. I can see why you’re best mates.”

“Pretty, pleasant, timid, boring girls, Charles. I find the whole thing excessively dull. Though I do love to dance. But the small talk required is almost insupportable.”

“Oh I’m sure there will be a widow or two in the crowd, John. We all know just where your tastes run to.” Miss Bingley spoke archly and John rolled his eyes, rudely.

“Jealous Caroline? Oh but of course we all know you’d much rather count your husband’s money than spend any time earning it in the-“

“John!” Charles exclaimed in shock and John felt the corner of his mouth twitch in amusement. “She is a young, unmarried lady!”

“Well, the young and the unmarried parts sound right, Charles. Two out of three eh? I’m going to go find Darcy. Help him support a wall or two. Avoid young women and their matchmaking mothers.” John clapped Charles on the shoulder and shot a glare at Caroline.

“But isn’t it the mothers you prefer to negotiate with, John?” Her lilting barb followed him as he strode away.

xx

Darcy was too busy brooding. Charles was far too busy all but proposing marriage to some tiny blonde thing. And John avoided the rest of his party at all costs. He prowled about the assembly hall, wishing he could be back in London. The society here was just-

“Oh pardon me, sir.” He felt the brush of a soft warm body against his, and looked up to see a woman before him, clasping a fan in one hand and wearing an expression that indicated she wasn’t sorry at all for bumping into him.

“I shall not.” He all but bounced in his eagerness - she was a beautiful woman, probably married, but that had never stopped him before. She had a certain spark in her eyes that told him he would enjoy this tussle immensely - be it just in words, or rather more.

“You shall not pardon me? How rude.” She arched a brow at him and he grinned, knowing that he could be particularly charming when he was required to be.

“Yet you beg forgiveness for a deliberate action without apology. Is that not also rude?”

Instead of mocking offense she grinned brightly, leaning forward. “But why would I apologise for something so enjoyable? Besides, it was you who were pacing and flailing about the entryway excessively. One would think you were practically asking for it, sir.” He moved behind her and she opened her fan, eying him.

“Well, maybe I was.” He shifted in two inches closer, until his chest brushed against her back and she glanced over at him with a smirk. “Am I enquiring in the correct direction, or might my enquiries be met more happily elsewhere?”

“You are cheeky. What is your name?”

“John Smith.”

“That’s an excessively boring name. I dislike boring things, Mr. Smith.” She inched away and he reached out, grasping her arm just above the elbow.

“I make up for it, I assure you.” He promised in a low voice and she laughed. “And you are?”

“Mrs. Song. River.” She added and he grinned at her married title. He did so love an experienced woman. Perhaps this place wouldn’t be so boring after all.

“River Song. That is a very not boring name.”

“Oh I’m so far from boring Mr. Smith, it’s considered a bit of a scandal around here.” She leaned over, whispering conspiratorially and he smiled down at her.