Yowzah Oneshot Collection (3)

44(G)

     hello, my treacherous friends

                    hihoplastic

“Ow!”

River keeps digging a deep, narrow hole in the soft dirt. It’s warm, but not stiflingly so; the breeze keeps blowing her curls into her face, but she doesn’t mind so much. Next to her, her flower purrs, and she occasionally takes a break to pet the bulb gentle.

“Ow!”

Taking a deep breath, she tries to concentrate. Satisfied the soil will hold, she lays down the spade and carefully lifts the plant at the roots and settles it into the hole, so the stem and bulb are still above ground. The plant wriggles, but eventually settles down, and nibbles at her blouse where it falls away from her breasts.

“No,” she murmurs, “You can’t eat that.”

The plant whines, but releases the fabric to nudge at her shoulder. River chuckles and strokes the stem.

“Ow! No! Bad planty!”

Gritting her teeth, she finally looks over at the Doctor who’s been working, or trying, in the next row over. Sitting on his tweed jacket, he’s covered from head to toe with dirt—it’s smeared over his forearms where his sleeves are rolled up, across his forehead and even some behind his ear. She has to admit, he looks delectable, even as he struggles to push his plant into the dirt. She barely stifles a laugh when it lashes out and bites his hand.

“No!” he hisses, still trying to be quiet. “Stop that! You need to go in the ground!” A pause. “Yes, I know it’s new soil, but it’s nice, I promise! See?” He holds out a handful of dirt. The plant bites him again. “Oi!” Another pause. She ducks her head just as he looks over, and watches him out of the corner of her eye as he studies her before turning back to the planet. “Yes,” he mutters, “I know your friend looks happy with her but she’s busy right now so you’re stuck with me.” The Doctor huffs. “I know she’s prettier, but I’m afraid you’ll have to—” He lets out a strangled gasp. “That’s my wife you’re talking about!”

The plant growls and the Doctor puts his hands on his hips. “No, no, there are some things I just won’t tolerate. You have to go in the ground and I have to put you there, so if you would just stop. Biting. Me—ow!”

Finally caving to the pitiful look on his face, and the way he shoves his finger in his mouth to soothe the bite, River dusts her hands on her jeans and stands up, patting her plant one more time before moving over to where the Doctor sits, dejected.

“Everything okay, sweetie?” she asks, trying to keep the knowing lilt from her tone.

He looks up at her with a grin. “Perfect, Song! Just getting to know my little friend here. We’re great pals, aren’t we?” He moves to pat the bulb, and the plant bares its teeth. “Okay, not so much pals as...acquaintances.”

Taking pity on him, River crouches down and slowly extends her hand, palm up, toward the plant. It curls back on itself, teeth showing.

“He’s in a mood today,” the Doctor supplies.

But River just waits patiently. “It’s all right,” she says, “I won’t hurt you. Neither will he, he’s just a bit clumsy, that’s all.”

The Doctor frowns, but watches in delight as the plant slowly inches forward. The nostrils on its head expand and it turns this way and that, before finally nudging River’s hand and allowing her to stroke it gently.

“There, see? We’re not so bad.”

The plant purrs in agreement.

“How did you do that?” Eagerly, he goes to pat one of the leaves, and the plant hisses, thorns raising.