A/N: Hello, everyone. I'm pretty sure this will remain a one-shot, but... dunno, it could be continued. I'm pretty sure it rather sucks, seeing as I haven't written much of anything publish-worthy for DW. Though it would be nice to hear your thoughts via review. *Hint* As I've said, set after the events of The Impossible Astronaut/Day of the Moon.
The Doctor is tinkering with his TARDIS console, rather enjoying the rare peace and quiet while Amy and Rory are off sleeping or doing other normal things humans do. He fiddles absentmindedly with his sonic screwdriver as he does this, his current musings preventing him from concentrating or being able to fall asleep.
He's still curious about River Song; he's wondering exactly who is she? She's complicated, for one. She's impossible. She's infuriating. She's maddenly smug. She thinks herself superior to everyone around her. She treats half of all she says as innuendo.
But... she likes him. She seems to nearly adore him at times. She sasses him all the time, yet eyes him with her full respect. He still remembers the taste of her lips against his when she kissed him for the first time outside her cell at Stormcage. And- No. He's not fighting a grin at that thought. Why would he be? Silly. Time to figure out River Song, not contemplate snogging her. No matter how much that thought is actually rather-
The Doctor thwacks himself in the head to remind himself to stay focused. Stupid, dumb old Doctor. Okay. The identity of River Song. Yes. Thinking about that now.
She's a criminal. She's killed someone, he knows. She has about twelve life sentences stacked up against her. She's extremely attached to those guns of hers. And he shouldn't approve of that. He doesn't think of her as incredible, the way she so talentedly defends herself. He's still not mentally going back to their encounter with the Silence, how she pressed up against him after he told her teasingly to stop it.
"Make me." The murmur definitely made no color rise to his cheeks then before she fought off the monsters with ease.
Okay, so, he'll lie to himself for a moment. This is all purely hypothetical. Just to help speculate. Just a bit of roleplay.
Say his hearts beat faster whenever she touches him. Suppose when she smiles at him, he feels lighter on his ever - clumsy feet. Assume he blushes if she whispers to him with one of those coy grins of hers.
Just perhaps when she does rub up against him, he feels all these odd flitterings inside, like birds are trapped inside his chest. It sends shivers down his spine, pleasant shudders that flutter down to his abdomen and create sparks that make him flush even harder.
He thinks he likes that feeling, too. He thinks he finds the way River Song makes him feel quite lovely.
This is hypothetical, you idiot! the Doctor savagely reminds himself. Hypothetical! Stop it right now! Romantic feelings for River Song are out of the question!
He pauses. He hadn't even realised that romance involving River Song was even in question. And... it's not. Is it?
"Well, there we have it. Bloody hell. You really are being stupid," the Doctor growls, flipping a few levers with more force than necessary to vent his frustration. "River Song is no more than a ridiculous fairy tale that you're not supposed to be involved in, no matter what the bad girl says. No one says you're going to kiss her again, so quit thinking about it. No River - snogging for you, naughty Doctor. Think about other nice things. Not that I'm saying snogging her is nice, exactly. No! Shut up! Other things!" He begins to pace.
"Jammie Dodgers! Those are nice to think about! Yes, good and sweet and they do taste fantastic, don't they? Sweet and... tasty..." The Doctor trails off, but shakes his head fiercely. "No, no, no, and several hundred- nope, thousands of more no's. That is completely off-limits for you, Doctor. You're not allowed to think about things like that. Now. Other topics.
"What about hats? Yes! Top hats, fezes, Stetsons, the like... River keeps shooting my hats... No! Not again! Do you know what River Song is right now? Not a part of this conversation. What else do you like?" the Doctor asks himself vehemently.
"You like... travelling. What planet will you take Amy and Rory to tomorrow? How about the planet Sirizyx? The one with trees that change color whenever people sing to them? They'll love it! Yes, treat the Ponds! Maybe later, you can take them to Gumandyna, home to the purple-spotted Ircastinotes. They're friendly. Except for some of the males that get iffy in the summer there for some reason. What about planet Yeisana? No, actually, we went there after we last saw River- Argh! Damn it!" the Doctor yells, kicking the console as hard as is possible. The pain shoots up his leg and he staggers backward to collapse on the captain's chair, swearing even more loudly this time in his native tongue.
Footsteps soon echo into the console room from a nearby corridor, and the Doctor glances up to see he's woken his humans. Brilliant.
"What's happened this time? Are we about to fly into a sun or something? What is it?" Amy questions, throwing a dressing gown around her shoulders. Rory is at her heels, looking alarmed and disheveled.
"No, no, everything's fine," the Doctor replies, voice teeming with exasperation. He tosses his screwdriver onto the console. "Back to bed, Ponds. I'm perfectly all right." He mentally scolds himself once more. You're going to have to get a bloody grip on yourself before you end up doing something really terrible.
Amy raises an eyebrow at him. "You're not seeming very all right. More snappy than anything."
"I'm not feeling snappy. Now go to bed and stop bothering me already; I'm working." The Doctor pays attention to the monitor instead of the scowl Rory is now giving him for talking in such a way to her.
"Come on, Amy," Rory mutters, giving a small tug to the sleeve of her gown. After casting another glance at her friend, Amy complies and begins to head back to the bedroom she shares with her newly-wedded husband.
The Doctor sighs and rubs his eyes. Bad Doctor again.
See, River's not a good influence on you, he thinks in irritation. She makes you think things and then you take it out on them. They don't deserve it, no matter how horrible the supper Rory had fixed for the three of them that night was. It's not good for you.
He's struck by the oddest impulse to see her once more. He really is bursting with the question of who she really is. He needs to know, and needs to know right now.
Maybe he can convince her. Maybe he will find out.
He's joshing himself. She'll only smile and tell him, "Spoilers," just as she always does.
Yet he does want to see her. No, it's not a want, not at all. It's a need for knowledge. That's a little frustrating at times: not understanding something so suddenly important to him. Who knows? There's the off-chance he'll be lucky this time. Probably not. But he doesn't think it matters so much.
Oh, what the hell. Just a quick- a very quick- visit this time. The Doctor begins flipping switches and twisting knobs, a wry and excited smile growing on his face as he does one of the things he does best: flying his faithful machine through the vortex to a certain destination.
This time it's Stormcage.