Dear Diary,
I went to see her again. That feisty queen. She's running rings around me, and believe me, that's no easy feat. I am the wife of the Doctor after all. I thought this was going to be an in-and-out operation. Retrieve the painting and then move on with my life. But she keeps sending me messages asking to see me again. Now, usually when I'm locked up I like to distract myself with various excursions shall we say. But right now I'm working on saving the universe, I've got big plans to infiltrate the roman invasion of Britain. Obviously saving the universe is the Doctor's job, I'm not taking that away from him, but he does need someone babysitting him, otherwise it could all go very wrong. Timelines and so on. So all this distraction isn't helping.
I turned up on her doorstep with a new dress on and a spritz of perfume I'd snuck into Stormcage, my husband would probably have a lot to say. But I was only thinking about her. I knocked, my hand hovering for a nervous moment before hitting the metal. Liz's palace might have been a hulk of industrial space-grade steel but it was still ornate. The doors swung outwards and a guard ushered me in, positively gushing my being Dr Song and how much the Queen had been looking forward to my visit. Jeeves, a man in a black cloak, lead me into the reception room. A demonstration of Liz's style, the room was decorated in the renaissance style I'd once found in Elizabeth I's palace. But that's a story for another day. And really it all added to the payback I was serving the Doctor for his royal fling in the first place.
She was standing in the room, her cloak wrapped around her. Her posture was high and mighty and had to turn on my confidence to deal with it. "Your majesty," I said, slipping off my coat and dropping it onto one of the chaise longue next to me. I shook out my hair and took a few steps forward so I was staring her deep in the eyes as I said, "you requested me."
I felt almost cheap. There was something annoying and intoxicating about flirting with a queen. She had the authority in the room, and she always would. It came with the title. But there was something about her undressing me with her eyes that gave me a sense of power I couldn't quite get anywhere else.
"So I did," Liz replied. "Tell me, what have you brought me today?"
I reached into my clutch bag and pulled out a toy pistol. A useable miniature I've previously hidden in a few tight spots over the years. If you know what I mean. I placed it gingerly in her hands. She rolled it around between her fingers, admiring the mother of pearl handle with a smile.
"It's very nice, River." she whispered, edging close and putting her lips to my cheek. Her voice was like a smooth velvet carpet being rolled out in my ear. I shuddered. Then looked around the room to feign that it was a chill in the air that'd done it.
"Only the best for you, your highness." I said, gritting my teeth. I hated this bowing schtick, and I could tell she was lording it over me. Her smile finally broke and she slapped me lightly on the arm.
"Do stop. The lying doesn't suit you. Come 'ere." She tugged on my wrist and pulled me close. I could feel her breath on my neck, I could feel my pulse start to race and a flush rise in my cheeks. God, I hated her...