Yowzah Oneshot Collection (3)

191(G)

   but you got the luck of a kennedy

      mygalfriday (BrinneyFriday)

{1}

“Dear, have you seen my bowtie?”

Shaking her head, River leans in toward her vanity mirror and attempts to apply her last coat of mascara without making a ridiculous face. “Where did you leave it last?”

“I don’t know,” he grumbles, wandering into the room and looking agitated as he searches beneath piles of books and clothes, opening drawers and rummaging. “If I knew that, I wouldn’t be asking you.”

River eyes him through the mirror, capping her mascara and reaching for a tube of lipstick. Dressed in his shirtsleeves and trousers, his feet bare and his expression adorably harassed, he looks positively tempting. She concentrates on applying her lipstick to keep from hauling him back into bed. “Retrace your steps, sweetie. It’ll turn up.”

Sighing gustily, the Doctor wanders out again and off down the corridor. She can hear him shouting as he reaches the console room and begins retracing his steps. “I was standing here, trying to recalibrate the blue boringers when you called. So I picked you up, made you give back the diamond, and we left. Well, ran. I still had the bowtie. But then you – and we -” She can practically hear him blushing as he attempts to recount the moment they’d stepped into the TARDIS and she’d leaped on him. After several adventures in a row with his younger self, it had been like an aphrodisiac to finally meet up with her husband again. They’d stumbled together down the corridor towards their bedroom, shedding clothes as they went.

She hears the Doctor’s footsteps approaching and she turns from the mirror to see him stepping back into the room with an armful of clothes and a faint blush but no bowtie. He drops his burden at the edge of the bed and crawls onto the mattress, showing off a delightful rear for her enjoyment as he scrambles with blankets and pillows, pulling out her knickers with a choked sort of grunt.

River catches them when he slings them across the room, slipping the lacy scrap of fabric into the pocket of his regular tweed jacket. Enjoying the thought of him pulling it out by accident when reaching for his sonic screwdriver the next time he wears it – hopefully in front of a companion – River hums and smiles, watching him locate his bowtie beneath a pillow and tied to the bedpost. “See? Told you you’d find it.”

“Right as always, dear.” He hastily unknots the bowtie and leaps from the bed, slipping it around his neck.

As he fiddles with the ends, bouncing a bit on his toes and not even attempting to actually tie the bloody thing as he watches her, River smacks her lips together and gives herself one last glance in the mirror. She fluffs her hair and stands, smoothing out the skirts of her dress. “Alright then, come here Time Lord.” She takes the ends of the bowtie in her hands and begins to thread it into a bow, fully conscious of his gaze on her and that little smile curling his lips. “What are you grinning about?”

“You.” He catches her hands in his, kissing her knuckles, and keeps looking at her with that sappy, soft-eyed expression that makes her hearts feel like they’re going to careen right out of her chest. “The dress looks lovely on you.”