It's been about a year and a half since I last posted anything "Doctor Who" (has it been that long? Meep) and after The Wedding of River Song, I was in the mood for some Rory/River for some reason. I'm not one hundred percent sure I got their voices right but, hey, I'll learn, eh? :) It's a bit weird, a different style to what I'm used to, and more dialogue-heavy than narrative. Still, I hope you enjoy this little scene in River and Rory's relationship! "Doctor Who" isn't mine and please review.
(Also, my title's a total cop-out. Ugh.)
Whenever
It is early in the morning when she next pops in.
Being the middle of July, the sky is bright and blue even at six o'clock in the morning. Britain has been enjoying an unusual warm summer this year; an Indian summer, his mother would say. Rory peers out the window at the sun almost as though he is verifying that it is still there and that is when he feels it.
A crackle of electricity in the air.
His skin crawls, not unpleasantly. To anyone else, it would be nothing, but he has spent the last God-knows-how-long waiting for this day. For a moment, he holds his breath, waits for the sound of feet thumping on the floor or his wife appearing in the kitchen doorway, but nothing happens. Amy must still be asleep. Rory considers running to wake her, but he does not want to disturb the baby and besides, he can already hear a cheery call from the garden.
Rory vows to keep her around long enough for Amy to see her, and then ventures outside, careful to readjust the weight in his arms before pushing the door open.
She is bustling around the table set like she owns it and Rory wants to smile. Without looking up, she happily calls, "Hello, Father."
"River," he greets quietly, "It's been a while."
"Has it? Well, I suppose it's all relative," she comments and raises her head. Seeing him, her green eyes widen briefly and then she smiles, "How long's it been?"
"Two years."
"Ah," she pulls a face that reminds him of Amy for a moment, "Don't tell me I'm almost as bad as the Doctor. Oh dear."
"What about you?" he asks hesitantly, "Where are…when are…you?"
He doubts he will ever get used to this, having to ask River how old she is and what year she just came from and what point in her timeline she is at. Mind you, it is not nearly as bad as asking How did you get out of prison this time?
River looks at him again and makes a "hmm" noise in her throat, "Have we done the Pandorica yet?" Rory nods. "That was recent for me. I say recent. Not entirely sure how long it's been, I've been rattling about with the Doctor ever since but—ah, never mind. What's his name?"
For a moment, Rory is confused, before he remembers the sleeping baby cradled against his chest, "Oh! It's Vincent."
River guffaws.
"Oh, come on," Rory chastises, trying to suppress his own smile, "It meant a lot to your mu—to Amy."
River rolls her eyes and chuckles again, "It isn't quite as pretty as Melody, now, is it?"
"It suits him," Rory says, with a note of finality. River shakes her head, and then gestures to the table with a dramatic sweep of her arms.
"I brought champagne!" she declares.
"It's six a.m."
"So?" River shrugs, and then rolls her eyes again at his somewhat dark look, "Alright, spoilsport. You brew us some tea and I'll save this for later."
"What's later?"
The sparkle in River's eyes seems to spell out what she does not need to say: Spoilers. Rory shudders.
"Well, um—alright. Tea. Would you mind—?"
He wants to snatch the words back once they are out. Is it insensitive to load his son onto River while he runs along to make tea? Would it be a cruel reminder of what they never had? His chest feels weighted; he feels his face heat up.
River, God bless her, remains cool. "Would you rather I made the tea?"
"No, I—"
"Rory, it's okay."
Rory's knees feel weak and he all but collapses into the chair opposite River. Against him, Vinnie stirs and shifts a little. Some of his hair, wispy and almost bright orange in the early morning sun, stands up on end. He has his mother's hair colour but the rest is all Rory, from the eyes to the prominent nose. He fancies that he sees some of himself in River but, as always, he is never quite sure.
"I'm not sure," he says slowly, "what to do around you anymore."
River is quiet for a moment. Then, slowly, she grins, "Oh, Daddy. Were you ever sure?"
Rory half-chuckles, nervous, and shrugs one shoulder. He tries to reconcile River Song with his sweet baby girl at Demon's Run and struggles. Even after two-or-more years, he still is not sure whether he should look at her and fear for her as a father should his daughter. It does not help that she is a hell of a lot tougher than he is.
"Your mother's better at this," he comments awkwardly. River's smile widens a bit and she reaches across to pat his arm.
"I think you're doing fine. Now, give me my brother and go and make some tea! I'm parched."
"Now you really remind me of your mum," Rory quips and, obediently, stands to offer River the baby. She reaches out to support his head and rear immediately and quickly settles him against her chest as if it is the most natural thing in the world.
"You're a pro at this," Rory comments unthinkingly, and turns to head back to the house. Had he stayed a moment longer, perhaps he would have noticed River's knowing smirk and the tap of her finger against the baby's nose as she cooed at him, "Spoilers."
Yeah, I named their baby Vincent and made him a ginger. I regret nothing.
Thanks for reading!
