River burned. It was maddening, frustrating, and unabatable.
Textbooks were scattered about the floor of the stormcage, as if someone had thrown them every which way—exasperated by the lack of stimulating content. Her dress from three nights prior lay sprawled over the arm of a wiry chair nestled in the corner of the cell. It was a flattering, green and sparkly thing with a plunging neckline that contrasted sharply with the dreary gray of the stormcage. It was so very against the regulated prison attire... though it had sat in that corner for days, untouched by prison security.
They didn't dare, for River had chosen that particular number for the Doctor. Her Doctor, at the Pruzaskus ball on Pruza III.
Oh, the ball had been a magnificent affair. The Pruzaskans had strung up twinkling globes of jade light around the palace ballroom and its exterior gardens. The gem-like stars had illuminated the intimate affair with a flickering, romantic visage. River was very aware of how the emerald glow had complimented her attire and figure… rendering her nearly ethereal as she sashayed towards the wheezing and groaning of the Doctor's incoming TARDIS.
Unfortunately, it hadn't been her Doctor that sprung from the signature blue phone box—his eyes had betrayed him immediately. His eyes were too young; this man was not yet her lover, her husband.
His gaze had immediately dropped to the large expanse of skin offered by her rather revealing neckline. As his gaze snapped up to her face he found her lips quirked into a coy smile; he knew he had been caught.
Though River had experienced a deep disappointment that the Time Lord before her was not her Doctor, she was determined to enjoy her evening regardless. Besides, she had thought, watching as the Doctor flushed an acute shade of red, it had been far too long since she had seen any sign of her Doctor. She can make the most of this Doctor—his embarrassed flailing was a bit endearing.
"Ah, R-River," the Doctor stammered, purposely trying to avoid her fey expression and failing, "what are you doing here?"
In reality, River had received information that the one and only Doctor was a special guest at the Pruzaskus ball, and had notably lacked a plus one. She had felt inclined to remedy that, having missed her Doctor for several weeks now.
River simply shifted her palms to her hips, cocking them seductively.
"Oh, you know me Doctor, I can't pass up a good party," she responded as-a-matter-of-factly. His gaze had settled on her mouth then, as though distracted by the movement of her lips. River could only imagine how they must glisten, her lipstick catching the light.
"I see. Well, nice to see you River," he coughed, looking up to meet her eyes bravely for a split second before his was off again, scanning the gardens around them, "Have you ever been to Pruza III? Much better than Pruza I or II, that's for sure. Pruza I was a desert before it was terraformed. Quite dreadful actually. And Pruza II… ohhh Pruza II was nasty. They had plants that ate people, like really ate people. Reached down and gobbled them up—"
The Doctor's babble was effectively halted as River, impatient with his nervous chatter, seized one of his wildly gesticulating hands and tugged it purposefully towards the direction of the party.
"—that's truly fascinating sweetie, but let's dance."
It had been three days since that night. Three days since dancing with the fidgety Doctor. Three days since an flash bomb had exploded in the center of the grand ballroom. Three days since River had ushered the party guests to safety while the Doctor had taken off, bowtie askew, in the direction where he figured the "dangerous aliens" had made off to. Three days since they had taken down a notorious rebel militia- armed only with their wits, a tube of lipstick, and a screwdriver-intent on the violent destruction of Pruza III's fragile democracy.
The flirtatious banter they had engaged in while they-for lack of a better phrase-saved the day had not failed in exciting her. The air had seemed thick with sexual tension.
Unfortunately, the Doctor had been too young to satisfy her ache so she had left… exhausted and frustrated. River hadn't even been able to muster the energy to bring herself to completion once back in her cell.
It had been three days since she had finally flopped unceremoniously onto her cot, throwing an arm over her face and lay there-dejected and unsatisfied-as her body thrummed with heat.
Those three days had proved to be the most torturous of her stay in the storm cage. Her mind had refused to be occupied by anything else; she turned that night on Pruza III over and over again in her mind. It zeroed in on every touch, every innocent caress, each affectionate quip from the Doctor's mouth and dissected it… yearning for any hidden messages, any evidence at all of her Doctor. However, River's efforts were to no avail. Her mind, defeated, had been unable to placate the desire that flickered in her belly.
River knew she was a quivering mess. She knew how to get a hold of her Doctor, she knew the moment her husband learned of her situation he would not hesitate to quench her desire. But she couldn't bring herself to make the call.
The idea of revealing that much to the Doctor… of being that vulnerable… it terrified her. Never let him see the damage. River felt as though this notion, of which she reminded herself often, extended to this facet of their relationship as well. She shall never let him see her so vulnerable… never let him see her so unhinged… never let him see how much she needed him. She knew how much harder it would be on the Doctor if she bonded them closer. It seemed only cruel for a mortal to kindle the love of an ageless god.
But oh, how she loved him.
River slowly lowered her arm from her eyes. She had not budged from her sprawled position on her cot since three days prior—only to attend to her hygienic and culinary needs. The glow of the lights in her cell had acquired a muted effect, intended to replicate the actions of a setting sun. In a matter of hours the lights would switch off altogether, simulating "nighttime" mode. The only visible light would come from the illuminated hallway beyond her cell.
She sighed softly. So it was the end of the third day. Her Doctor was not coming today.
River slowly maneuvered off her cot and made for the green dress with every intention of putting it away. She rationalized that the very sight of it was partially to blame for her eager and melancholy attitude.
It was then, when she was upright, that strong arms encircled her waist from behind. Stunned, River tensed immediately and made to inflict a rather uncomfortable defensive maneuver on her assailant when the figure in question spoke.
"You looked rather fetching in that dress, River Song."
With his hot words on her neck and the evidence of his desire pressed unquestionably against the small of her back, River nearly came undone in that very moment.
"Hello sweetie."