Yowzah Oneshot Collection (2)

80(G)

            the joy of small days

                       leiascully

The Doctor wakes up. That alone is strange enough: he barely sleeps - dozes is more like it - but even more rarely is deep enough in dreamland that waking up is a jolt. Nevertheless, he wakes up like he's submerged in slumber and rising to the surface, and there's almost an audible pop as his eyes open. The first thing he sees is the hollow in the bed next to him. The next thing he sees is his former nemesis slash current intermittent companion slash mercenary slash helper or hindrance slash possible now-and/or-future wife (he isn't really certain how he feels about that timeline, or for that matter, how she feels about it, but his feelings on the subject are definitely a great deal warm-and-fuzzier than they were when he met River).

All of it's a bit too confusing for someone who's just woken up, especially when that someone doesn't usually sleep (and what he did to bring on this kind of exhaustion, he'll have to ask later, because he'll be buggered if he can remember). His head's all turned around, muzzy from sleep; the best he can place himself is "somewhere on Earth", but then again, he's got a good reason to be disoriented, and she's just sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Hello, sweetie," River says. Her hair is wild around her face and she's wearing a dressing gown. It has flowers printed on it. Flowers. River Song, wanted criminal, has a silky looking dressing gown with extremely innocuous flowers on it. This is exactly why he doesn't sleep much. He was always rubbish at mornings. But River's also holding a tea tray and miracle of miracles, it has tea on it.

"Tea," he breathes, reaching for the cup. The duvet slides off his shoulders as he sits up. He's wearing a soft old cotton t-shirt, extremely worn, with the name of River's university on it, and some extremely loose pajama bottoms.

"You were exhausted yesterday," River says, sitting down on the other edge of the bed with her own mug. "Big day sorting out history, rescuing the Ood again, poor souls. You needed a rest."

"I only like big days," he says, sulking into the steam from his tea. Oooh, lovely, tea. Worth saving this planet over and over for tea.

"Well, at least this once, you're going to live a small one," River says. "No saving worlds or averting disaster. Just a cup of tea and maybe a puzzle or some telly. It's too rainy to go out. Besides, the TARDIS agrees with me, and she won't let you in."

"Rainy?" He clambers out of the bed and whips open the curtains. Curtains! Feared by millions, and River's got curtains! It is indeed raining - at least that explains the strange muffled sound of the air. The TARDIS sits in the garden looking rather pleased with herself despite the damp. River's cottage is extremely cozy and extremely well-insulated. He hadn't even noticed the excess of humidity. He twitches the curtains closed again and glares at River as she crosses her arms and looks at him, fondly smug.

"You and I, we don't have small days. We aren't the right sort for that."

She raises an eyebrow. "Vacationers?"

"Human," he says.

"Hmm," she says. "There isn't a being alive who doesn't enjoy the occasional cozy lie-in."

"What about the hydrophobic planet?" he mutters. She does bring out his grumpy voice.

"Tea," she says. "A book. An afghan knitted by my own father. Two thousand years, he said, he needed something to do. I might even go mad and bake something later."

"Usually when you go mad, it involves combat gear," he says suspiciously. She does make a good cup of tea, though. He frowns into the steam rising from his mug. There's little in this universe that does better for his mood than the smell of good Earl Grey.