Yowzah Oneshot Collection (1)

52(M)

you’re the sun who makes me shine

“I’m not letting that woman drag me into anything!”

Sometimes, he thinks he ought to stop saying things. Because how often do his own words have to come back to haunt him, before he learns his lesson? He just ought not say anything at all, he thinks, as he grins and runs, his feet pounding the ground below him and his chest aching from the burn of the oxygen.

It’s not like he meant to find her – he was bored. Amy and Rory were tired, they spent an awful lot of time in their room together. He’s never had companions who were so sleepy before. Really. So he’d thought – what harm would a little side adventure, all on his own, hurt? They’d sleep right through it!

Only the little side adventure had somehow turned into an impeding invasion in the Gamma forests, and there at the heart of it all – River Song.

Really, the woman was such trouble. Every time he saw her they nearly died – and that’s obviously why his hearts pound whenever he sees her. It’s just adrenaline. Really. His body simply is preparing himself for the inevitable fight or flight that follows her around like a shadow.

She’s trouble.

And he does not appreciate her breathless grin, or her aim with that plasma blaster, over her shoulder, while they are still running.

They save the forests. Of course they do – what else would they do? River is glowing with exertion, her eyes lit up and her breathing rapid long after the danger has passed. He escapes as soon as he can – Amy and Rory will wake up soon – and he offers her a lift, he does, but so grudgingly that she rolls her eyes and exhales sharply, her cheeks still pink as she tells him flatly that she can take care of herself. He frowns at her emphasis, it seems odd and she is still breathing so heavy – but she is gone in a flash, and the smoke stings his eyes as he frowns at the spot she’d just been.

She’s trouble.

And he definitely won’t let her drag him into any further adventures.

~*~*~*~*~

His pocket burns, and he makes a noise of surprise as he pulls out his psychic paper. Coordinates, and a tiny x in the corner. No name – but he recognises her handwriting. “So, off to bed then Pond?” He glances casually at Amy and Rory as he tucks the paper back in his tweed.

“What? I – are you tired? I mean I suppose…” Amy trails off, frowning at him and he lifts his brows, smiling and nodding as Rory tugs on Amy’s hand.

“Come on, who knows when we’ll next get a break with him,” Rory points out practically as he herds his girlfriend up over the stairs, and the Doctor grins, waving at them as he watches them go. He frowns, noticing the edge of his sleeve is a bit tattered, and he glances down at his tweed, well-worn and perfectly acceptable for adventuring – but River had had a rather lovely dress on in the forests, and she’d eyed him with something akin to disappointment. Best change then, just in case – if River could quell rebellions in dinner wear, then so could he.

He tugs his bowtie undone and heads toward the wardrobe.

Four hours later, he’s lost his new bowtie, and is trapped with River in a broom cupboard of all things, as she leans against the door, shushing him and pressing her ear to the panel.

“All I am saying is that if you hadn’t called their President a fish monger, River, we wouldn’t be here right now!”

“Well he was a fish, what was I supposed to call him, sweetie?!” she hisses back and he flails, staring at her, aghast.