A Near Miss
"River be careful," the Doctor warned as they attempted to corner the small Silurian child. "We don't want it to lash out. It may only be a child but it's sting could still be lethal."
"Sweetie, I know how to handle myself." His wife winked at him and he grinned back.
"Oh, I know Dr Song. I know that all too well."
He turned his attention back to the child that they were meant to be returning to it's mother. It had managed to back it's self into a corner and was eyeing the two of them warily, seemingly sizing them up, trying to find its escape route.
Suddenly it sprang, its long tongue lashing out at River who dived out of the way. She hit the ground with a loud thud as the wind was knocked out of her, her hands stinging from where they had broken her fall. The Doctor lunged forwards and caught the child by its legs and sprayed the sleep mist in it's face, quickly knocking it out.
"One child caught by another," River grinned sitting up. Her husband laughed and helped her to her feet, noting the well hidden grimace as he grabbed her hands.
"Okay?"
"I think so," she said, dusting herself off and inspecting her grazed hands.
"Let me see." She rolled her eyes.
"Sweetie, it's fine. I have suffered much worse than this and lived to tell the tale. Now lets get that troublesome little girl back to Vastra before Jenny begins to worry. You know what she's like."
Sure enough when Jenny greeted them at the door she was already in a fluster. Was she okay? Had she caused them much trouble? Where had she been? And so on and so forth. The couple exchanged a fleeting glance and River said,
"It was fine Jenny. No bother." Jenny took the sleeping child from River's arms and invited them in, proceeding to carry her straight up to bed. They found Vastra sitting as usual in her hot jungle like conservatory where she invited the two of them to stay for a drink.
"She was no bother I hope?" Vastra asked as she poured the wine.
"No more than one would expect from the chid of an alien detective living in Victorian London," the Doctor smiled.
"We just can't seem to make her understand it's not safe for her out there," Vastra sighed.
"She just want's an adventure," the Doctor chuckled. "She want's to be like her mums. All little girls do," he finished, smiling at his wife. She was gazing vacantly into the fireplace, absent-mindedly rubbing her sore hand. She looked a little pale. "River are you alright?" She looked up at him and forced a smile.
"Fine sweetie." He frowned at her.
"You don't look fine. You look a little peaky."
"Don't fuss sweetie. I'm fine. I suspect the heat is just making me a little hazel that's all."
"Shall we get some fresh air? I must apologise I often forget that most humans are not accustomed to my preferred temperatures," Vastra said apologetically. River smiled gratefully at her host.
"Some fresh air would be lovely."
As they walked out into the little London garden River stumbled. The Doctor caught her by the waist to stop her falling and looked at her, concern shadowing his face. All the colour had drained from River's face and she looked faint and woozy.
"River are you sure you are alright? What's wrong?" she shook her head slowly, leaning into him for support, cradling her injured hand in the other.
"I don't know," she mumbled. "I just feel very dizzy. And my hand, my hand hurts." Vastra took her injured hand in her own and stretched in open to inspect it. In among the grazes there were two very distinct puncture wounds, oozing a nasty concoction of blood and green venom, whilst the veins around her hand and fore arm were slowly showing sings of the spreading infection.
"I'm so sorry Dr Song but she much have stung you in your efforts to return her to us. We must administer the antidote quickly before the poison spreads any further."
River looked at her husband, her hazy eyes now clouded with fear.
"It's okay," the Doctor whispered, kissing her. "You'll be fine." She looked at him, the last traces of colour draining from her face.
"Doctor…" Her clouded eyes fluttered shut and she fell limp in his arms.
"River!" He scooped her up into his arms and looked at Vastra, the fear he had seen in his wife's eyes not moments before now mirrored in his own as she ushered him into the house.
"Vastra what's happening?" the Doctor demanded as he lay his wife down on the bed. Her breathing was becoming laboured and the poison had spread up her arm and was weaving it's way across her shoulder, coming dangerously close to her heart.
"A child's poison spreads much more quickly than that of an adult, but it is also curable as long as I administer the antidote before the infection reaches her heart." Vastra hurried to the chest of drawers in the corner of the room and pulled out two little bottles. She mixed the contents of the bottles and then filled a long syringe.
"Vastra!" she looked around to see tears spilling down her old friends face. "She's not breathing!" Vastra rushed over and looked down to see that, to her horror, the little green fibres of infection were mere millimetres from the woman's heart. She injected the clear liquid into her heart and they stood back, waiting, pleading for it to take effect.
The Doctor took his wife's hand in his own and held it to him.
"Please," he whispered, "please River, don't do this to me. Please don't leave me. This isn't your time. You can't leave me, not yet. Not now. There's so much we haven't done yet." He held her hand to his lips as he cried, Vastra watching in silence as they waited.
River breathed, a shallow, rattling breath, and her green eyes slowly fluttered open. The Doctor laughed and let out a sigh of relief, kissing her and holding her to him.
"You're crying," she rasped. He laughed again and wiped the tears from his eyes.
"Never do that again." She smiled wearily as he pulled her into his arms.
"No promises."