sorry about the delay in posting this; sometimes life steps in to make you really busy. (Life and Murphy's Law.)

Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing!


Chapter 7: In Which the Care and Feeding of Pets is Important

In the silence of the bowling alley, the Doctor and River stood side by side, surveying the damage. It was a veritable army of Dravonitus' facing them now; knee-high, chirping creatures stumbling over their own wings and smoking from tiny slitted nostrils.

"How's that plan coming?" River asked, her voice a little tense.

"Still in progress," the Doctor said, rather cheerily. A little too cheery, she thought, especially considering the circumstances. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her gun.

"Why," the Doctor asked, giving it a dirty look, "did you bring that?"

"The last time you took me on a normal date, you told me not to bring it; and I actually listened. And then, we ended up facing a yeti. This time," River said wryly, "I chose to be prepared." She levelled the gun in front of them, and the Doctor pushed her hand out of the way.

"You can't shoot them," he scolded. "Look at them, River. They're only babies!"

She snorted. "Babies who could devour the entire human race for breakfast." He scowled at her, and she raised an eyebrow.

"But alright, Doctor. If I shouldn't shoot voracious babies… then I'm listening. Waiting for your plan; because I presume you have one…?"

He turned away from her needling smirk, brain rapidly running through options. To be quite honest, It wasn't that he didn't have a plan. It was just that he didn't have a good one. In the Doctor's experience, if he let his mind wander, acted on hunches and instinct and his own font of knowledge; plans… happened. The problem with River Song was that she liked knowing what was supposed to happen, and what she should do to either aid, or hinder said things to happen. He approved in concept; it was very methodical of her.

All the same, when he was trying to just let ideas percolate until they coalesced into something fully fledged, it was very difficult with her silent disapproval beside him.

"Would you mind not thinking so hard?" he asked, a little peevishly.

"I'm just waiting for you," she responded. Her fingers tightened around the barrel of her gun, and his lip curled.

"There are other ways than guns."

"Then think of one!"

"Alright!" he burst out, more than a little annoyed. Talking things out, aloud, usually helped him anyway.

"Species Dravonitus. Hailing from the dawn of time. Evolved into dragons."

"You've said all that before."

"Hush!"

She glanced at him, finger still caressing the gun trigger; but eventually subsided.

"Hmm. Dawn of time, dawn of time. They can't time travel; never had that capability. So why are they here?"

"Because I brought them, Doctor."

Slowly, River and the Doctor turned around. The bowling alley attendant was standing just behind them, grinning in a very nasty sort of way.

"You?" the Doctor asked incredulously. "You brought them? Why? And how?"

"I've been taking care of them for a long time now," the attendant replied, with a careless shrug. "Given them what they need. The daily rolls in oil, the warmth and security as they were in the shell… They're my… pets, I suppose you'd call them."

"Well," the Doctor said slowly, mind racing in about a dozen different directions. "Pets, you say? I suppose they're cute little creatures…" Behind him, he heard a noisy hiccup, saw a flash of flame out the corner of his eye, smelled scorched wood.

"And what child never dreamed of owing a dragon?" The attendant giggled, gesturing toward the army of Dravonitus' still lurching around the bowling alley, fluttering translucent wings and letting out nervous little cheeps.

"You know," River put in rather dryly, "many people have cats for pets. At least with them, you're not in danger of being accidentally toasted and eaten as a snack."

"Don't antagonize him," the Doctor mumbled out the side of his mouth.

"Why not? He's crazy; the man keeps dragons as pets."

"I'll have you know, I've always wanted…" He broke off at the look on her face. "Oh, right, not the time to tell you about pets I've wished for. Err… yes, he's crazy. Exactly the reason not to antagonize him; never know what he might do. And there's something he's still not saying…

"Alright, then." The Doctor shoved his fringe from his forehead, squinting at the attendant. "So they're pets. But why? And why bring them here?"

"Because these little creatures are far better than even their later descendants. They were so innocent, back before evolution made them into dragons, taught them to fear the people craving their treasure, to roast those that hunted them…

"But at the Dravonitus! The very picture of innocence, harmlessness… They're even moldable. Did you know," he said conversationally, "legend has it that they were fiercely loyal to family bonds. That psychic link to their parents they had in the shell persists when they hatch, and is made permanent during their first feeding. Their parents' desires and hopes and goals become their own. It's why all dragons crave treasure; because one ancestor had a fondness for shiny things.

"Except this time, it won't be their parents who feed them and shape their brains. It'll be me. I will be the one to feed them, and their loyalty will be mine…"

The was the faintest air of fanaticism in his voice and River rolled her eyes. Keep him talking, she thought as she edged a little closer to the Doctor, eyes scanning for an escape route and hoping that the man beside her was coming up with a plan inside that head of his.

"So they're loyal to you," she announced in a bored voice. "And then? Did you just wake up one day thinking: 'you know what I want? Loyal pets that breathe fire and have no protein deficiency.' "

"River," the Doctor hissed. "What did I tell you?"

"I'm not antagonizing him," she hissed back. "I'm asking a question. People with dastardly plans always love to talk."

"You'd know."

"So would you!"

"Oi, I have brilliant plans, not dastardly ones."

"Then have one right now!" Her eyes flickered between the attendant, the door -too far to run to- behind him, anything she could possibly use for a weapon that wasn't just the gun in her hands. "You usually think quicker on your feet than this. Or," she gave her gun a little wave, "we could just follow mine."

He grimaced, and she rolled her eyes again. "I'm trying to keep him talking, sweetie, so you can figure out how to neutralise this. I can probably manage another ninety seconds for you to save the day using your brain, before I take matters into my own hands and blast us free."

He made a face at her, but couldn't say anything. In a way, he was very impressed with her that she hadn't already.

"Doctor Song brought up a good point," the Doctor said. "Loyalty… that's very nice. But what would make you decide you needed so many? I could understand one… but," he glanced backwards, eyes quickly scanning over small bodies and many, many legs and wings, "why would you need forty of them?"

The attendant gave a simpering little snicker, shaking his head. The Doctor narrowed his eyes, really looking at him. There was something about how his mouth moved, something that didn't seem quite right… as though his features were only a mask on something far less human.

"I've heard stories of you, Doctor. And I must say, I thought you were brighter than you're showing me here. Why would I need so many? What better way would there be to rid the Earth of the human race? Take a race of creatures -young, pliable, innocent- and raise them tohate… and from there, to kill?"

Beside him, he felt River stiffen in anger and sympathy.

"You ripped them out of time," she asked, her voice low and trembling, "to force them to become weapons? Against their will… you're planning to brainwash something newborn and innocent to kill people?"

The Doctor tried to catch her hand, but she pulled it away. Oh, he understood her anger at that concept. Even so, there was a disloyal thought in his brain that he vaguely wished she would have let him hold her hand; but he knew her well enough to know that in this case, she needed to be angry by herself before she would even let herself accept his presence and comfort.

"Ah, so you're the clever one, Doctor Song." The attendant sniggered, his face distorting to look even more unpleasant. "And here I thought he was that one I'd have to work around."

"You should never be fooled by a pretty face," River drawled. "I'm very clever, too, you know. Some might even say I'm a bit dangerous.

"The thing to remember is that he," River tilted her chin toward the Doctor, "still basically believes in the goodness of people. Even if he's angry, he'll always try to save the innocent.

"Too bad for you," she said flatly, "I just wasn't made that way."

She whirled around, firing bullet after bullet in the direction of the Dravonitus; and the attendant gave a high pitched squeak, running to protect them.

Except… the Doctor grinned when he realised her shots completely missed the babies. The bullets whistled scant inches above their heads; but if there was one thing he knew about River Song, it was that she was too good a shot to ever miss by accident.

"How's that plan coming," she whispered through the corner of her mouth. "Anything yet?"

"Portal."

"Portal?" She grinned, very suddenly. "Oh… portal."

"You approve?"

She stopped to reload her gun and turned to face him fully; eyes large and luminous, shining in the dim light of the alley.

"It's brilliant," she breathed. "You're brilliant."

"As are you. Nice work with the gun."

She shrugged nonchalantly. "You know me; always good with them. Some people mutter when they think I'm not listening that it's practically an extension of my hand.

"You know what they say, though. Give a psychopath a gun…"

He grinned, shaking his head, wondering if that was just a teasing comment, or if she really believed that herself. Not the gun part (he was one of those people who wondered if she wasn't a little too quick off the mark with wanting it by her side; which he must have said one day in her hearing…), but the psychopath bit. Because back in Berlin, a very young River Song had teasingly -but steadfastly- maintained she was a psychopath; which of course he'd known wasn't really true. Searching for her in databases long before he knew her parentage, had told him the dry facts of her academic achievements and archaeological discoveries, lists of the students she had mentored and the digs she'd led.

Of course, he had come across the more sordid mentions of her through history; impossible not to, really. He'd found article after article, warning everyone of a curly haired menace armed with a gun, hallucinogenic lipstick and -dear lord- the cleavage…

But he'd always known, remembering her at the Library; that's not all she was. Despite the avowal of her psychopath tendencies, the warnings of her violent nature (not to mention his own nagging suspicions for why he shouldn't trust her and who she'd killed to land her in Stormcage; the best man she'd ever known indeed)… for every negative comment, there was a corresponding story of the good she'd done. River Song had been praised as a goddess on Yete and Xanthe, declared the unofficial saviour of the entire Beata race….

And in moments like this she proved him right. That her ability for love and compassion was as strong… well, as his.

"You're not a psychopath," he protested mildly; and without missing a beat, River threw her arm backwards and fired, her shot missing the attendant's left ear by millimetres.

"Alright, so maybe you are. But you're my psychopath," he amended. "Better?"

She grinned, reaching out one hand toward him, and he threaded his fingers through hers and squeezed briefly before she turned to aim the gun directly at the attendant's head.

"You seem," River said conversationally, "to be rather occupied with protecting your pets. It's a pity you don't have the same regard for your own life." She fired another three shots, bullets whistling past the top of his head, his right hand and left knee.

"So tell me your plan one more time." She took one deliberate step forward, then two, three… and the attendant squeaked at the sight of an angry River Song, curls in a wild halo around her face and furious eyes, advancing upon him with a gun in her hand. Bravado gone, he began backing up.

"You're planning to force harmless creatures into doing your will, killing off the entire human race…?"

"Our seers have said that the humans will enslave my people," the attendant babbled. His cheeks stretched like rubber, lips falling away lopsided from his face to give a brief glimpse of something grey and slimy underneath. "One day they might reach the stars, and they'll find my race and force us to serve them. Tear my planet apart. I'm trying to save them, save us… I went back in time to find a way to save us!"

"By killing."

"You're planning to kill me! What makes you better than I am?"

River gave a tiny chuckle and a flirtatious smirk. "When did I say anything about me killing you?"

The Doctor grinned as he watched her, knowing exactly what she was doing. Herding the attendant, letting him back up nervously in hopes of getting to an escape route. In other words… the portal. Which, happen to be located in the shoe rental.

He darted to the milling Dravonitus babies, pulling out the sonic.

"I'm so sorry for this," he apologized to the little creatures. "But you've got to call your parents. They need to come get you." He pointed the screwdriver at them, wincing as they began to shriek together in a shrill, high pitched creel.

From behind the shoe rental came a small crack, a tear in time. He could see the gaping edges of the world beginning to open…heard an answering cry from within before two creatures catapulted through the air and into the bowling alley.

"Beautiful," the Doctor murmured, looked up at them. The female was a rich red, deep and glowing almost burgundy from her head to the tip of her tail, wings shimmering and translucent. The male was a dark charcoal grey, and even stronger and more powerful than his mate. They circled, wings nearly clipping the walls.

"Hello!" the Doctor called up at them. "The babies are safe!"

One deep blue eye looked down at him, and he could hear the female's voice in his mind.

:They were stolen from us. They were stolen from us.:

"But not by me!" the Doctor called. "By him!" He gestured toward the cowering attendant, who was still trying to back away from River and her gun.

"He's the one to blame," River called out. "He's the one who stole them, had a plan for what he was going to do to them."

"And it was nothing good," the Doctor added.

River rolled her eyes, not lowering the gun. "I think they guessed that, sweetie."

"Yes, sorry. I'm the Doctor, by the way. And I'm going to send all of you home."

He managed, with short bursts from his screwdriver to herd the babies toward the portal, and their parents followed, swooping through the air around them.

"Take them and go," he called. "And good luck to all of you."

One by one, the babies toddled toward the time portal, and disappeared. The last to go was the male, who paused upon the threshold, surveying River, the Doctor and the attendant.

:This one: he said, one glowing eye upon the attendant, :is responsible for stealing from us?:

"Yes," the Doctor said, nodding.

:He doesn't smell pure. But he has enough marrow to feed the children.: There was a brief pause, and then the attendant was snapped up within powerful jaws and dragged -screaming- into the portal before it snapped closed.

The bowling alley was quiet. River slowly lowered her gun, turning to face the Doctor.

"They're gone," he said, a bit unnecessarily.

"Yes," she answered. "Good plan."

"Well…" He scratched his chin, straightened his bowtie, carefully put his jacket back on and tugged on the lapels. He didn't like admitting this sort of thing, but he had a feeling she'd guessed anyway.

"I didn't really have one. Not at the start, or for… well, awhile."

She didn't say anything. Holstered her gun, brushed shards of eggshells off her jeans, carefully didn't meet his eyes until she walked over and very lightly kissed his cheek.

"I'm glad I didn't just shoot them," she admitted softly. "Or the attendant."

He draped his arm around her shoulders, turning them to walk back toward the TARDIS.

"A bullet would've been too easy. I like the plan we came up with, though. Saving the Dravonitus, sending them back to the past where they belonged."

"And," River added thoughtfully, "even the attendant got a reward for stealing Dravonitus eggs."

"River," the Doctor said with a slight frown, "I'm not sure becoming breakfast counts as a reward."