A/N: I must admit, these are amazingly fun to write...


The blare of the alarm echoed down the corridor as he rushed toward cell 46. He skidded to a halt as he found Doctor River Song still there, standing outside the bars, just exactly as if she'd been waiting for him. She was wearing some sort of fancy dress which reminded him vaguely of something he'd seen in upper form history.

He stuck this observation under, "Things best not to examine too closely," a mental file which had grown disturbingly fat since his duties started including this particular block of cells.

Doctor Song's face broke into a smile as she saw him rush down the hall toward her. "Oh, good. You came. You boys are always so quick to respond to my summons. You can turn the alarm off now, by the way. Doesn't that dreadful thing give you a headache?" When he didn't move, she continued, "Oh, don't look so worried. I'm in for the night. Now."

The fact that he was absolutely positive she'd been in her cell not five minutes ago, dressed in an old t-shirt and baggy pants, did not, in fact, require any sort of mental filing. It was a sort of thing far too common for that. After he had returned from cutting off the alarm, he gestured to the cell behind her. "And now, Doctor Song, back in your cell. Please," he couldn't help but add.

"Of course." She held the white paper bag she'd been holding out to him. For the first time, he noticed the wonderful smell of... something... some food... emanating from the bag. "But as I have no proper place to store this, I was hoping one of you boys would do me a favor and finish it off for me?" When he hesitated, she continued, "It's quite good. I wouldn't poison you, you know. Well... not with food," she added almost as an afterthought, smiling. "But it is a crime to toss out Véry, and as he's not terribly fond of monkfish...?" She shook the bag slightly as further encouragement.

It was like she was speaking a different language. But, as that was also not uncommon enough to require special mental filing, and because whatever was in the bag certainly did smell better than the cold sandwich waiting for him back in his locker, he did the only thing possible. He took the offered bag with a muttered, "Thank you," waited for her to step back into her cell, and then locked the door behind her.