Yowzah Oneshot Collection (3)

17

                 back to the wall

                  coffeesuperhero

They're on the smallest moon of the largest planet in the Rutan system in the thirty-third century, where they have just finished running from a platoon of very angry Sontarans. Well, running from is one way of putting it. He prefers cleverly and deftly escaping from.

They're in a room that has a decidedly dungeon-like quality to it. He can't say that he's a fan of this particular style of decor, and he mentions as much to River, who listens to him for a few moments with an expression on her face that is, well, affectionately predatory, and then, without any further lead-up at all, she grabs the front of his shirt, tugs him forward, and kisses him, which is fine, well, more than fine, really, and he's pleased to note that he's flailing around nervously quite a bit less than he had done the first time she did this. His hands are in all the right places this time, at least, if the very interesting well-satisfied-moaning noises she's currently making are any indication, and he's not having any trouble remembering to breathe. Thus far this seems to be a very successful exercise in kissing.

There's something he's forgotten, but he can't fully recall what it is. The thought of whatever it is that he can't remember keeps distracting him from fully participating in this kissing business, which is irritating, and whatever it is had better be dreadfully, seriously, life-threateningly important if it's going to take his attention away from whatever it is that River's extremely clever hands are doing with his belt and his trousers and parts south of his belt and--

"River," he says, the thing he had forgotten suddenly blooming into existence, of all the moments, this one, just now, when things had started to get really interesting.

"What is it, my love," she drawls.

"I don't know that you've noticed," he says, reluctantly leaning away from her wonderful hands, "but the walls of this room are closing in on us."

"We've got at least fifteen minutes before that happens," she says, matter-of-factly.

"And you want to, what, exactly? During those fifteen minutes?"

There's that predatory smile again. There's a sort of giant tiger in the forests of Gamma XII that looks less ferocious when it stares you down than River does right now. Then again, he supposes, as River presses her body into his, backing him against one of the walls, which is slowly but surely working to make its way towards the opposite wall, the tiger also has designs on you that are in no way similar to whatever it is that River seems to want to do to him. If he can manage to think of something clever while River works on undressing the both of them-- he shivers at the thought of it, and she grins at him and nips at his neck-- then they'll get out of this in far better shape than they would do if confronted with that tiger, anyway.

He can't remember why he was thinking about that. River is doing things with her mouth, her lovely, very talented mouth, which contains, apparently, an equally lovely and equally talented tongue, currently located in the vicinity of parts of his that have not had anyone's tongue near them in, well, it's been quite a while.

There's something he's supposed to be thinking of, possibly a plan of some kind, but River's hands have replaced her tongue and her mouth is against his neck and somehow in with everything else that's going on, this delightful woman who was supposed to kill him instead of kiss him has managed to remove her shirt as well as his, and her skin is warm and smooth against his chest, while the wall behind him is cold and scratchy. The contrast makes him shudder, or maybe it's the proximity of mostly-naked River, or, even more possibly, the proximity of the opposite wall to the one at his back.

"Er, River," he says. He is loath to distract her from whatever exciting new thing she is currently doing with those delightfully nimble fingers, but this situation with the walls is, well, pressing, and he tells her so.

She rolls her eyes at the pun and slouches against the opposite wall, which is now an alarming half-metre away.

"I think that's enough of that, don't you?" she says, and with one swift move, she unholsters her gun and fries the deadlocked control panel, stopping the walls. Her deadly accuracy with a gun really shouldn't make him shiver the same way that her tongue does, but it does, and the smug expression on her face tells him that she knows it.

Come to think of it, that isn't the only thing she knows how to handle with deadly accuracy, and one quick slide of her fingers is enough to remind him of that.

"Better?" she asks.

"Quite," he squeaks. "How long do you think we've got before they come looking for us?"

"Long enough," she says, shrugging, her magnificent hair bouncing against her shoulders, a promise of things to come.