Champagne Celebrations
River threw her head back and laughed loudly, draining the remaining champagne from her glass. The doctor eyes his wife uneasily, his shiny eyed, really rather drunk wife, and said,
"I think it's time to go." He took the empty champagne flute from her and placed it on the tray of a passing waiter.
"Sweetie, I was just released from a five-year sentence in the most high security prison of the fifty-second century." She grinned at him. "We're celebrating!" she giggled, grabbing her glass back from the waiter as he passed them in the other direction. She snatched at the champagne bottle on their table as the doctor slid it swiftly out of her reach and she pouted at him like a child. Then she stood, her heals in one hand she grabbed her husband's in the other and yanking him up out of his seat she dragged him away from the little Parisian café.
She ran down the empty streets of Paris, the light from the gas lamps making her evening gown sparkle and shimmer in the dark, as though it were winking, as though even her dress could flirt with him. Her wild curls were slowly breaking free from their heavy metal pins to dance around her face. The doctor smiled as he watched her splashing through little puddles and swinging around the flickering lampposts, all the while the music of her laughter mingling in perfect harmony with the distant notes of the bands filling the cold night air. She was like a child. She was the child she had never had a chance to be, truly free, and happy for the first time in her life.
As they passed a small hotel River stopped, listening to the music of the band inside wandering carelessly out into the still street.
"Listen." She smiled. She grabbed the doctor's hand and pulled him towards her.
"Dance with me." She ordered.
"Any time, any place." He smiled. She laughed,
"Oh you have no idea." She grinned.
"Now you have me intrigued." he smiled.
"Spoilers."
He held her, danced with her and spun her around the empty streets of Paris. As the song ended he dipped her low and she let out a squeal of laughter. She kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he pulled her upright again.
"Um, River," he said attempting to pull away. " In the middle of the street? After dark? In 1940's Nazi invaded Paris? Is this really a good idea?" he squeaked. "I mean we did lock Hitler in a cupboard. I don't think they like us very much."
"Oh god I hope not." She grinned. She kissed him again, pushing him against the nearest lamppost.
Suddenly loud disgruntled sound of someone shouting at them in German broke their silence and they looked up to find two uniformed officers running at them. River grabbed her husband's hand and they ran laughing towards the Tardis. They crashed through the doors and locked them behind them. River shoved him against the closed doors and kissed him hard.
"River," he said as she started pulling at him bow tie, "what are you doing?"
"Spoiler's sweetie." She grinned. She started pushing slowly him towards one of the seats next to the control panel, a devilish grin on her face, her bright green eyes twinkling mischievously.
"Sit down Benjamin." She grinned.
"What ever you say Mrs Robinson." He smiled, doing as he was told. Really, drunk River wasn't all that different from sober River, just a little more, well, assertive. And quite frankly he wasn't about to complain.