A/n: This is another funny 11/River drabble to cope with Pond feels. This is written by request for monkeymail. Thanks for asking! I'm writing this in a world where River and the Doctor can still visit Amy and Rory, mostly just for the purpose of giving them people to buy Christmas presents for. Here it is, hope you enjoy and keep sending requests!

Disclaimer: Nope, nada, zilch.

"I don't understand why we have to do this now, River! We could be running down ice hills or watching stars explode or…I don't know…saving people! Anything but this!"

River stared at him strangely, taking in his displeased face and rolling her eyes, "Sweetie, what's the matter with you? You normally love shopping! And before you say it, no, the Hat Emporium is absolutely not on our list!"

The Doctor stopped aghast in the middle of the mall, looking at her like she'd declared that she'd broken his sonic.

She paused, sensing that he was pouting behind her. She turned around and felt an indulgent smile slowly blooming on her face as she took in her husband, a supposedly wise alien of over a thousand years, wearing an expression of a five year old throwing a tantrum.

"Sweetie, we have a whole list of presents to get through. The moment you step into that store, you'd become a kid in a candy store and refuse to leave for hours."

He opened his mouth to defend himself against her mocking, but quickly closed his gaping mouth when he realized she was most likely right. Damn her; she usually was.

"…I have a proposal," he muttered hurriedly, casually catching up and falling into step beside her, looping his arm around hers.

She glanced over to him with a smirk as they walked into the store she had intended to hit first, "And what would that be, Theta?"

His eyes widened at the use of his real name in public, "Shhh! River," he looked around nervously, "People within hearing distance!" he waved his arms around, gesturing to the vague area of the front of the store.

She laughed at him, a free sound that he found sort of rang in his head, like a happy tickle at the front of his brain, "You're not that famous anymore. But of if you insist, Doctor," her voice dropped in register, becoming low and velvety, seductive like. She reminded him of caramel sometimes and he still couldn't decipher that thought in any way, shape or form. But he did know that when she was looking up at him like that with her steamy eyes and rubbing patterns on the underside of his forearm-she knew it was a sensitive spot on him and she adored abusing that knowledge- his breathing became rather unmanageable. She made his thoughts go wibbly.

"Doctor," the next thing he knew she was snapping her fingers in front of his face, "What's your proposal?" she laughed through the end of the sentence upon catching him zoning out.

He really had to learn to control that function of his mind. The daydreaming. About her. In order for that to work she'd first have to stop causing it, his brain helpfully pointed out to him.

"My proposal, wife," he smirked at her, trying come across sexy but only managing to look like a mischevous child, "Is that you go into this store, pick out exactly what you want for each person on our list and I will pay for all of it. Meanwhile, I'll just be…outside, waiting patiently."

The second the word 'outside' dropped from lips, the Doctor's wife donned an smirk which succesffuly made her look like the one in charge in the relationship. Which she sort of is…

She rasied one eyebrow at him and without either having to say a word, he knew that his idea was see through and shot down, "Fine! I'll help, but it's not like you'll approve of any of my present ideas anyhow."

She chuckled, "And it's not as if you actually planned to be waiting outside on that bench patiently either, is it?"

He ducked his head down, suddenly finding the granules in the floor to be extremely fascinating, "Well, no, I was-"

"-Going to go sneak off to the hat store next door," River finished for him, "No sense in trying to hide things from me, Sweetie. I'm the wife which bascially means your wild stories and puppy eyes won't work on me."

Before he could stop it, an offended gasp left his mouth and a petulant expression overtook his face, "I do not have puppy eyes, Mrs. Song!"

Her eyes twinkled at the use of the joking sirname they'd adopted for her. He was serious though, or as much as he could be while being defensive; he really believed she was wrong. The teasing moniker, in this case, being accidental on his part.

But she couldn't help herself, "Yes you do, Mr. Song. And most of the time, they're quite effective," she looped her arm through his and started pulling him along through various rows and racks of products. He had no idea what sort of shop they were even in, but there were clothes to his left and appliances to his right.

Of course that was the subconcous part of his brain cataloguing everything like it usually did. The forefront of his mind was focused completely on the woman by his side, "Even on you, Melody?"

Curse him, she thought as shivers descended down her spine at his whispered words in her ear, muttering her given name to her and letting his warm breath ghost across her neck, eliciting the most wonderful-and sometimes annoyingly inconvenient-goosebumps.

She nudged him in the side with her elbow to get him to stand back up to his full height, about a head and a half taller than her; he really did have a bad habit of invading her personal space. Well, so did she with his. She swears, his rambling type thought process wears off on you after a while.

"Yes," she started, eyeing him to let him know they were still in public and this was staddling the line of allowed and not allowed, "Even on me."

But as she looked up at him grinning goofily, somehow looking smug and slightly dashing-he'd worn his nice jacket and bowtie, after she convinced him his suit with tails wasn't appropriate for the mall- she realized how hypocritical her thoughts had been. Since when did she abide by rules, or even acknowledge their existence for that matter?

Which is exactly why she looked around carefully, making sure no one was paying them that much attention, before grabbing the lapels of his coat in her fists and pulling his lips down to hers.

I should really be upset at her about this, was the Doctor's first thought upon being dragge into a kiss with his wife in the middle of a shop. His following thoughts were a bit harder to decipher. She bit his bottom lip gently, tugging on it, snogging him exactly the way she'd learned over the years that he enjoyed. He felt his eyes cross briefly under his eyelids as he let out a contented groan, getting lost in the spicey honey taste of her.

It wasn't until something dropped from one of the shelves behind them that he was startled out of his snog-induced stupor. He pulled away quickly with a pop, his cheeks instantly flushing red as he stared down at her with wide eyes, "River!" he nearly screached, "We're in a shop!...With-with people!" he waved his arms around spastically, vaguely gesturing to the few people who were in their section of the store that had stared for a few seconds.

River rolled her eyes, "It's an Earth mall, honey, and we were just kissing. These people," she gave him a look, somehow turning his response around on him into something she could mock him for, "Have seen worse than that."

He could only stand there fuming silently at her; it wasn't the backtalk that bothered him, it was that she always seemed to be right. How does she even manage that?

"Christmas presents, Pond, we were supposed to be shopping for Christmas presents," he muttered hurriedly, pushing her along with a hand on her lower back, "Can't believe I'm the one focusing for once," she uttered under his breath.

"I heard that," she sang, walking ahead of him to different aisles.

He rolled his eyes, "I don't care if you did," he called childishly bitter.

She turned back around, grinning, "Yes you do," she winked and he cursed her as she turned back around.

I hate her sometimes.

Mickey Smith loved Christmas. It was always one of his favorite holidays as a boy, all the holy and excitement and the promise of new toys. He retained his love of Christmas after almost getting killed by a Christmas tree after having met the Doctor. That might seem a little odd; in fact, sometime during their travels, Rose told him once that she would never look at Christmas the same way again. But he did. His view on the holiday never changed, Doctor or no Doctor.

Which is why he was glad his wife, Martha, actually shared that sentiment. She didn't express it the same way he did. After all, she was a bit more mature than him. He likes to tease her for being too serious, but she wasn't. Honest. He just liked the face she made when she got defensive. Truthfully, she had gotten a little harder after travelling with the Doctor; she was a soldier now. But he still saw her for who she was; she was strong and beautiful and caring and had a bit of a temper, but she was Martha. And sometimes, he actually succeeded in making her realize that being just Martha, not Doctor Jones or whatever, was enough for him and it should be for her.

Martha knew how Mickey felt about the holidays, and she genuinely enjoyed the spirit of Christmas, it lifted her spirits higher than they would usually be for a month or two. Not that wasn't content with her life, she just relished the extra pep that Christmas seemed to put in the air for everyone. Or mostly everyone. There was that one grinch at the hospital, but she could deal with him.

So when her husband woke her up before eight on a Saturday, fully dressed and waiting for her to get ready, she knew what was coming- Christmas shopping- and she obliged him. Every year they would pick a weekend before Christmas and spend all day at the mall, picking out the perfect presents for their friends and family, and getting peppermint milkshakes before they went back home to watch any Christmas movie they chose.

"Mummy!" she heard a little girl squeel, pulling her from her thoughts as she walked around the store of the particular shop they'd stopped in. She looked up from her browsing to see her husband holding their three year old daughter's hand, then looked down to see little Cassidy grinning, her dark curls bouncing around her ears while she held up a plus teddy bear with a purple velvet top hat, "Daddy bought this for me! He said it was…was…"

"Early Christmas," Mickey grinned ear to ear, finishing for his daughter.

Martha gave him a look that said they were supposed to be buying gifts, not giving them out already, but she couldn't stay mad when she saw how little Cassie had looked at the bear.

Mickey gave her an apologetic look, somehow still grinning, "Martha, she was threatening a fit if I didn't buy it for her. And the little bear was only ten dollars anyway."

She smiled, rolling her eyes good naturedly, "It's fine, Mick. Just remember why we're here," she turned back around to look through the racks of clothes, "And you know you're going to have to learn how to tell her 'no' eventually. I don't think that was very good practice."

"Martha," he fought to kepe himself from sounding like he was whining, "I sware I can set her boundaries, but it was only a little treat and besides it's all part of the spirit of the season, isn't Cass-"

When he turned to look at his daughter, his eyes widened when he was met with an empty aisle, "Cassidy," he finished weakly.

"Where'd she go?" Martha demanded, following her husband as they started to rush out of the aisle, looking around the store.

It wasn't five seconds later that something caught that a little dark, curly head caught their eye. They sighed, relieved, before they noticed the scene. Their little girl was talking to a slightly strange couple. The man was bent down on one knee, eye-level with the little girl as he took the plush, purple hat from her bear which she had stubbornly insisted be called 'Wilkerson' and placed it atop her head. He himself was dressed in a tweed jacket patched at the elbows and a red and green checkered bowtie, presumably to match the season.

The woman that stood behind him was stunning, if Mickey could say so himself, which he was pretty sure he couldn't know that he was married. She slightly curvy figured with honey-toned skin, wild strawberry blond curls and clear aqua eyes that seemed to be glinting at she watched the man interact with the little girl, something like affection and admiration in her expression.

Martha approached the scene a bit flustered, grateful for their help, but a bit curious as to the random people talking to their child, "Oh, we're sorry; we turned around for a second and she got away from us! Thanks for um, watching her, you know, in case she decided to run out of the store,"she laughed awkwardly.

Mickey came up behind her a second later and leaned down to pick up Cassidy, careful to keep the little hat perched in her hair, "Yeah, mate, thanks for finding our little troublemaker,"he grinned, more at ease with strangers than his wife seemed to be.

It wasn't until they both stopped talking that they realized the strange young-looking man in an old man's clothes was just staring at them, looking at them with even stranger eyes.

Such old eyes, Martha thought randomly before she could process what that meant.

"Um…sir?" Mickey was awkwardly waving a hand around in front of the man's face as he blinked out of his shock.

"Oh, um," he swallowed too quickly, a grin randomly splitting his face like he was seeing old friends after a long time apart, "You're welcome! And, you have a daughter!"

He responed over enthusiastically out of not knowing what else to do. Martha, Martha Jones, the woman he thought he'd turned irrevocably into a battle hardened soldier, was standing before him smiling awkardly while Mickey the Idiot held their adorable little girl. He internally cringed at the awkardness he'd just created. He hadn't meant to blurt out the last bit, but he was so pleasantly shocked.

It was one of his biggest fears that once he left them, his companions would never be able to have a normal life again, that he'd somehow ruined them. But she was fine, perfectly happy. And she even had a little family to call her own.

The curly-haired woman abruptly gave him a warning glance before clearing her throat and nodding politely to Martha, "She was no trouble. We're just glad you found her."

River of course had noticed the look that had bloomed on the Doctor's face as he saw them, before he could rein it in. Then she had recognized their faces for herself from the TARDIS archives. She had actually met Martha a couple of times, but she didn't seem to remember. She smiled sadly at that.

Martha nodded hesitantly, her shocked and suspicious eyes slowly going away as her smile became more friendly, "Yeah, I turned around to yell at my idiot husband for a bit and next thing I know she was gone," she laughed, for some reason feeling comfortable around this woman.

"Oh, I know what you mean," she smirked, elbowing her own husband in the gut, again.

"River," he grumbled, suddenly unaware of his old friends staring at them, "Second time today. Really?"

She chuckled at that, I know it doesn't hurt. I akready told you I can see through that pout, Sweetie."

Which only served to deepen his frown.

During their little squabble, Martha had begun to study the man before her. She felt something was oddly familiar about him, like a memory was suddenly haunting her after years of being filed away. He was odd, for one thing. He acted a bit like he knew her from somewhere too. And his face seemed to express ten different emotions a minute. She sensed a sort of random chaos in his mind. She tilted her head, accidentally studying him more than she realized she was. It was the eyes that she kept going back too. They didn't fit in his face. The look of them, something so weary and wise in them, yet they were in such a young face. He didn't look to be over thirty. Not to mention his hair was abit ridiculous, falling in his face like th-

"Doctor," she breathed, the epiphany suddenly hitting her like a gust of cold wind or light being shined directly into her eyes. She stood there blinking as his face filled with shock, his light eyebrows almost rising compltely under his hairline.

Mickey reacted instantly to what his wife had said, staring at the man with a newfound curiousity and diselief. He hadn't seen the Doctor in years. And that had been with a totally different face…He knew he could change that, his face,but he still felt like he'd been thrown back into water he didn't know how to swim in. But there was happiness too, mixed into the pile of emotions that the mention of that name had dropped on him; if this was the Doctor, he'd be happy to see him.

River was the only one unaffected; she merely stood by the Doctor's side, smirking quietly to herself.

The utter silence went on for about 10 seconds before she decided she'd had enough, "Go on then, Theta. Stop standing there with your mouth open like a dead fish and say hello to your old friends," she finished with an eye roll.

He gulped, a nervous habit this regeneration seemed to be fond of, before another grin lit up his face, "Hello miss Martha Jones," he turned to Mickey, "Mickey the Idiot," he laughed to himself in joyous disbelief. Of all the places in the world, hell the universe, to run into old friends, he sees them again while they're all Christmas shopping.

The couple couldn't help the huge smiles on their faces as they looked at him, still shocked, "You changed your face again," Martha laughed.

The Doctor only raised an eyebrow at her, "Yep, I tend to do that. Better than dying and all," he winked at her, like a subtle, quiet little way to let her know that he remembered all their adventures together and he still saw her in exactly the same light. It comforted her for some reason, that he hadn't changed. Well, for the most part.

"You know, now that I know it's you, I suddenly don't feel as comfortable knowing that you were talking to my daughter. Did you plant ideas about far away planets in her head?" he smirked, eyeing the Doctor carefully.

He gasped, offended, "I would never! She's a little girl; much too young to come along."

"But my mother, being eight at the time, was old enough to star jump with you?"

He quickly turned to glare at River, "You're not helping. Stop helping."

"I wasn't trying to, Sweetie," she winked.

Martha's eyebrows shot up at that, "Sweetie?"

The Doctor quickly face-palmed, fighting not to go red again, "Right! Totally forgot! Introdutions. Martha, Mickey, this is my wife, River Song. River, Martha and Mickey, my old companions. Oh…and their adorable little spawn…ehm…I don't actually know your name," he smiled, bopping Cassidy on the nose.

"Cassie," she blurted excitedly, happy to be the center of attention, "My name is Cassidy Boe Smith."

"Oh, hello then, Riv-wait, wife?" Mickey interjected after his daughter, compltely forgetting his tact.

"Boe?" The Doctor's face seemed to be awed.

Martha smiled gently, knowing he'd pick up on that, "Yeah…we figured…Jack has done so much for us, all of us, things you don't even know about, and well…we wanted to give him something, some kind of respect. Even though he's probaly one of the hardest men in the world to respect sometimes," she finsihed with a laugh.

"Yeah, we named our daughter after Captain Beefcake, but can we get back to the part where the Doctor got married?"

The shock of seeing him again had almost made the two forget how incocievable it was that the woman standing beside the Doctor was what who he said she was.

Her husband's words seemed to jar Martha out of the shock of seeing him again enough to realize how draw-jopping what the Doctor had just said actually was. And that is how two of his old friends ended up gaping at him in a shop at Christmas time as his wife stood there making things worse, looking like she was debating whether to feel him up in front of them just to make him blush again.

"Uhm," he scratched the back of his neck nervously, "Well, yeah," he started, getting a bit more annoyed the longer he thought about why it was so shocking to his friends that he'd be in a relationship, "She's my wife. I said that already, didn't I?"

Martha blinked, her face blank, "Well, yeah, but…we never knew you to..we didn't think you-"

"They thought you were asexual, Theta," River actually giggled. River-giggling. Weird. Or he found it strange.

The Doctor frowned, seriously offended, "River, I seriously doub that-"

"Actually, I sort of thought you were just a manwhore for a while," Mickey blurted, causing the Doctor to give him a wide-eyed angry look, "What? I know how you kissed Madame DuPompawhatsit and Martha and Rose and…well just think about how many of your companions have been pretty girls, Doc."

River could hardly stop herself from falling onto the floor in a laughing fit.

"Wait, why'd you call him Theta?"

The Doctor groaned, rolling his eyes at River before turning to Martha with an aggravted look, "Oh, you would pick up on that part, Jones."

Martha smiled, giving him a scolding look because after knowing him for a while she knew it worked now, "That's Smith now. And yeah, I am."

River smirked, "What else would I call him? That's his name. Kind of. Anyway, I can't just call him Sweetie all the time; he's starting to ignore it. I need something he'll respond to," she smirked wickedly, pinching his arse subtly, making him jump almost a foot in the air, letting out way too high pitched a sound for a man his age.

"Or I could just do that," River shrugged, grinning at all three shock-stricken faces.

A/n: Ooh that was fun! Anyone have any more ideas? Ps to monkeymail- I am pissed at myself for waiting this long to focus and finish this for you. Send me more if you guys want, I'll try to finish them quicker this time.