Lazy Sundays

The first time ever River experienced a lazy Sunday, it was because she was injured.

She thought she'd go mad with boredom. Downtime had not exactly been a part of her childhood training with the Silence. And with them, being ill or injured didn't excuse her from training. So this idea of staying in bed and resting while Amy and Rory fussed was quite foreign.

And the Doctor was like a petulant child, grumbling about his own boredom and whining about why couldn't they go somewhere. Amy smacked him twice.

And River, used to getting up and doing regardless of what physical condition she might be in, tried to get up and go in order to pacify the Doctor.

But Rory stepped in at that point and shut the Doctor up quite effectively.

Later, River realized that the Doctor had been acting that way because he really was a child and didn't know what to do with his fear and worry. But at the time, she was young. And she internalized the idea that the Doctor, like the Silence, really expected her to just keep going .

So she tried never to show illness or injury. It was nothing new; she could work through the pain. Most of the time, she was successful. Until one horrible night in New York when an Angel led to a broken wrist and then to the loss of her parents.

The Doctor acted horrified at the idea of her "hiding the damage" (as if she hadn't been doing it for years), but grief made them both cruel instead of kind. When they finally parted ways, River wasn't sure if their relationship would ever recover.

But she had her own life and her own adventures. She loved being a professor, loved teaching, loved leading various expeditions, loved writing and publishing her research. (And loved the various escapades she and her vortex manipulator could get into.)

She still didn't know how to relax, and one of her colleagues finally asked her about it. "Ever just have a Sunday morning lie-in and then spend the afternoon with a book and a mug of tea?"

River stared. "Why would I do that?"

Anita laughed. "Because it's nice. You should try it sometime."

So River did. She felt guilty and unproductive and swore never to do it again.

She did it the very next week.

And the week after.

The week after that she didn't get the chance. She was trying to get a diamond and doing so involved a marriage and a surgeon and she'd never admit to anyone how much she liked that cranky old surgeon.

And then the cranky old surgeon revealed who he actually was. "Hello, sweetie."

River was humiliated to her core. The Doctor had heard her speech with all her fears and insecurities. And now here they were on Darillium, with a 24-year-long night ahead of them.

Plenty of time for lazing about…and plenty of time for the Doctor to get bored.

So River tried to fill every waking minute. There were adventures aplenty, she was sure, even on Darillium. But after her fourth or fifth attempt, the Doctor took her hand. "River. Stop."

"You don't want to experiment with the effect of the Towers' song on the purple moss from Gareon 3?"

"No. I don't."

"Well, what would you like to do instead?"

He smiled, his eyes filled with such affection she almost couldn't stand it. "Why don't we just spend a lazy Sunday afternoon in the lounge? Several books and a couple of big mugs of tea? Or hot chocolate if you prefer."

"You don't want to do that, Doctor. You'd be bored silly."

"I'm not Bow Tie, River. I can sit still for more than five minutes at a time. And I'd very much like to snuggle with my wife on the sofa."

She didn't really believe him, but she agreed to give it a go.

She kept eyeing him from beneath her lashes, watching for signs of restlessness or irritation. They never came. This Doctor seemed quite content to just be still. How odd.

Her guilt was still there. Shouldn't they be doing something?

But somewhere around year 14, she relaxed completely.

And by year 20, whatever time they designated "Sunday afternoon" was her very favorite day of the week.