Interface: It's been a while. Another 1st person fic. Finding it difficult to write much at the moment, though I imagine once Uni begins and I'm squashed under piles of assignments I'll suddenly be up for writing again... ¬¬' Typical. Enjoy.
I stared at her across the console. Feet tucked up beneath her on the brown leather seat. She looked quite at home. In fact; as I seem to recall; it WAS her home. River Song; the accidental Time Lord; or Lady as the case is. The pen she was using scratched the pages of her diary as she wrote whatever it was she put into that damn thing. What I wouldn't give for a little peek at my future. Was I bald? How many times did I regenerate during our strange relationship? Once? Twice? Maybe I died? Who knew? Well, of course she knew.
I hated that.
She glances slyly at me. I'm not entirely sure how long I've been staring at her. The look she gives me makes me shudder and tingle - I hate the effect she has on me.
'You're staring' She informs me with a hint of a smile, her eyes barely lift from the page. She has me completely figured out.
I rise out of my seat. Stretch out. Swing my arms. Yawn wildly before starting my console routine.
'I should probably slow down' I think a little too late as I slip on the floor.
She smugly informs me that she has told me hundreds of times about my poorly soled boots. I make a point of ignoring her. The low rumble erupts when I pull down the big lever. She probably has a fancy name for it, I like to keep things simple. Blue buttons. Zig zag plotter. Wibbly lever. Big lever. Simple.
I feel movement beside me. River has risen out of her seat. She gives me a sleepy smile that I can't help but love. Her lips burn my cheek as she gives me her usual goodnight kiss. But honestly. I'd love to just once receive those full lips on my own. Despite my disappointment I smile anyway.
'Goodnight River'.
I don't even watch her disappearing up the stairs as I had once done. A long time ago now. Sometimes I feel her looking back and I often wonder if she wishes for us to be more comfortable with each other. It's been hard since I found out that her parents were in fact the Pond's. The Pond-Williams'. The Williams-Ponds or however they preferred to be known. I pressed a small button on the console. Don't know why. Seemed a good idea. Best to put my hands in my pockets save accidentally steering the Tardis somewhere dangerous. Best to just keep my hands in my pockets all the time save getting into anything dangerous and or something incredibly ridiculous.
The twists and turns of the corridors land me in my study. More of a sanctuary really. It was the only room other than, maybe, the library and Rivers room that was fairly organised. 900 years of travelling can at times be incredibly dull and here in this room I had brought together a collection of my favourite things. Yes. Clocks. And a few random gadgets (Mostly borrowed). I closed my eyes, shut myself down to everything except the rhythmic ticking of my timepieces. Bliss.
I can't believe we've gone from all to (all)most nothing in such a short space of time. That man was more puzzling than a rubix cube. Which incidentally I had managed to solve during my lengthy prison stay. Home from home as they say. I don't know who 'they'are exactly. My heart has sunken as low as it can go; I pull the covers up to my chin. So who cares who my parents are anyway? All I want is that man. No. Need. All I need is that man. My Doctor. And me, potentially Mrs Doctor. I couldn't help but let out a laugh. I cringed at my own smitten thoughts. I would die for that man. I hope he'd do the same. I think he would. Maybe.
The morning stung like a massive hangover. Sleeping while whirling through the vortex was not the recipe for a good morning and STILL he insisted on doing so.
'Bloody irritant' I grumbled throwing the covers from me.
'Bloody lodger'
He was sat on the end of my bed, I recognised the extra weight now. 'You better not have been watching me sleep again'
'I only came to investigate the lawnmower' I cursed at him but the twinkle in his eye allowed him to escape with no further action on my part. I hated that. My mind drifted to the blaster beneath my pillow; what fun there was to be had chasing the Time Lord around this maze of a Time Machine. 'Not worth the effort' I decided with a yawn. I shoved him off the bed with my foot.
'I made you breakfast' He offered attempting to sit again.
'Plain toast isn't breakfast' I ejected him from the bed once more.
'It's not plain!' He sounded indignant. I suppose I could play ball this once. I allowed myself to be led (by hand!) to the kitchen. I felt mild guilt as I was greeted by plates and plates of delicious smelling options. Muffins, Home-(Tardis)-made bread, bagels, croissants, on the stove he had the makings of a full English breakfast going on, the toaster was at work, the coffee was ready, jam, milk, sugar... I think I also spied freshly squeezed orange juice too. Bless.
He must have been up all night. Wait. 'What's the occasion?' my tone admittedly was one of suspicion.
'Occasion?'
I wasn't in the slightest bit convinced by his attempt at innocence. The only rule you need to know is the first one – The Doctor lies; badly. I narrow my eyes at him, watching his every move. As he grabs the coffee pot I clock his quick and nervous glance at me.
'Something the matter sweetie?' I butter a slice of toast, waste not want not as 'they' also say.
'Nothing'. Liar.
He changes the subject and tells me all about the tinkering he's done under the console. He hasn't done a thing right but I can't find it in my heart to say so. Looks like I'll be repairing the damage later while he's off tinkering with other helpless objects. It's surprising how much two hungry Time Lords can eat; we've soon demolished almost everything he made.
'That was lovely' I tell him setting my empty mug down at last. His grin is his smug one. I'm sure he saves it just for me. I wait for him to enlighten me but it never comes. I don't think I actually expected him to explain himself. All I get is a satisfied, 'You're welcome'
Our eyes lock. He's up to something.