From The Window Across The Street
A.N.
I imagined this to be set post-Stormcage, but pre-Manhattan: a married River, who still has both parents intact – ah, Ponds, I do miss them!
The house opposite me had only just gone up for sale when she moved in. It was an extremely ordinary house, previously owned by a couple that had moved away to have kids. I had been sitting on my bedroom window-ledge when I saw the 'FOR SALE' sign go up, as I had been when I saw her arrive. Thinking about it, I never even saw her, or anyone else for that matter, look at it beforehand. She just walked down the street with nothing more than a small, black suitcase, her stilettos clacking against the cobbles of the road. Her expression was one of grit, somehow mingled with a half-smile and a commanding air. She took down the 'FOR SALE' sign herself, before marching over to the door, taking a out a single key and unlocking it. Before entering, she frowned, paused, turned, and looked around at me. I smiled as she saw me watching and gave a shy wave, but she threw me a glowing smile, and waved back, prior to turning back into her house with a faint smile still etched upon her face; smile which now matched mine.
She had a huge, messy halo of unruly blonde curls and mischievous, almost childlike eyes softened by faint laughter lines. Her features were gentle but defined, mature yet playful, with a stubborn jaw that somehow conveyed both determination and strength.
She'd walked with such an air of confidence, it was almost as if she created a tangible bubble around herself, her heels beating against the ground. She wore a slimming dress of such a dark shade of blue it almost appeared black. It was made of such a light material, it seemed to swim around her frame, the sleeves fluttering at her elbows. It flowed down her figure, flirting just above her ankle.
From what she was wearing, she appeared extremely well off, and she stuck out dramatically from the standard brick houses that lined the street. However, she carried only the smallest suitcase, and had walked down the street, rather than travelling by car or taxi.
-x-
I didn't see her leave the house for the next week or so. I assume she must have left at some point, but I never saw her do so. She had soon become the talk of the town, and yet the only thing known for sure about her was her name. River Song. It fitted her well, I thought. It stood out, like her, but everyone seemed so much more curious as to her reason for coming here. Depending on who you asked, she was a criminal on the run for diamond theft, she was a millionaire seeking a getaway from her extravagant lifestyle or an undercover spy/detective/policewoman who had come to find the murderer that George had seen on the News that morning.
I live in a small village and gossip spreads like wildfire, essentially stemming from the local pub. I don't frequent it, but my sister gets home with the day's theories on River's reason for being here. I rarely leave home, to be honest. I go to school, obviously, but other than that I prefer to stay in my room, curled up in a ball, sat on the window ledge, listening to my iPod on shuffle. I could sit there for days, just watching the world go by.
My sister, Joey, is the complete opposite. She's much older than me, 24 next March, and she is the type who runs around the village with her mates, teasing the lads, climbing trees and generally having fun. She's always one to come home with an interesting story.
One of the few occasions I did leave home, I happened upon River in the local newsagent. This was about three weeks after I first saw her arrive, and she wore a deep crimson top, with small beads adorning the immodest neckline. Her jeans were tight fitting, and she walked in short, red, leather boots. She smiled at me as I entered, and I could tell she recognised me. I smiled back, but blushed and turned to find the magazine Joey had asked me to buy for her.
A.N.
This is my first ever fanfiction, so a review would be well loved – whatever you thought of the story! Thanks for reading