Archive of Our Own

The Ponds are linked arm in arm as they arrive back in the TARDIS, Rory hitching up Amy's Talfarini party dress as it threatens to slide completely off one shoulder. Loose-fitting and low-cut, the garment is never going to win prizes for modesty, especially when worn as intended – without undergarments. River has good cause to know this since she's wearing one, too.

Humming happily to himself, the Doctor twirls around the console before pulling the lever to send the TARDIS spinning back into the Vortex.

'Planetary disaster – nil. Team TARDIS – oh, let's say a zillion. Puts us right at the top of the league, I think. If there's a league for planet-saving. Which there probably isn't. But there really should be. Because planet-saving? Pretty cool. Also, they gave us a party.' He flicks his gaze between Amy and River. 'And ... interesting party frocks for you two.'

'Which are not cool, but very, very hot,' Amy tells him, bright-eyed and laughing as she and Rory head for their room.

'We're just ... er ...' Rory starts to stumble an explanation, but Amy frowns and tugs impatiently at his arm.

'Bunk! Now!'

'Yes, yes, fine. Carry on, Ponds.' The Doctor waves a casual hand in their direction. 'Off you go for a nice cool down and a little rest.'

River rolls her eyes, which is entirely wasted on the Doctor because he doesn't even glance in her direction. Instead, he shrugs off his jacket and tosses it across the nearest seat before eyeing the TARDIS console and rubbing his hands together.

'I'm going to give the thermo-couplings a good going-over. They're still being a teensy bit temperamental. River, you can – '

'Doctor.'

'What?' He looks across at her in bewilderment. Then something seems to click in his mind because he clears his throat, straightens his bow tie self-consciously and draws himself upright. 'Oh. Oh. This is the bit where I kiss you, isn't it?'

'Only if you want to.' River isn't sure whether to laugh or cry. He's so damn earnest about it, he looks like he's readying himself to sit an exam on How To Be Intimate With River Song. Clearly, it's early days for him.

'It's all right. We've done kissing,' the Doctor tells her like he's ticking off a list in his head. He opens his mouth to say something else, and then snaps it closed again with a frown as if he's only just beginning to understand that the concept of 'spoilers' applies to their private lives, too.

'That's good,' River says encouragingly. 'At least I hope it was. Did you enjoy it?'

'Yes.' He manages to look simultaneously flustered and smug. It's strangely endearing.

'Then shall we ...?' She steps directly into his space, tilting her head invitingly.

'Why not?' With a gleam of anticipation in his eyes, the Doctor takes a quick breath and then dives for her mouth. She can't fault his energy, even if his finesse is a little lacking, and she loves the way he meets and matches her with real enthusiasm before he breaks the kiss, staring with unnerving fascination into her eyes. River shivers right down to the soles of her boots.

'And ... breathe.' The Doctor follows his own advice and then licks his lips. 'That was rather lovely.'

'It was. But I think we can do better. Would you like to try again?'

The Doctor smiles. 'Yes, please.'

This time he kisses her with more flair and assurance, drawing her close against him like he feels she belongs there. Which, of course, she knows she does. With a soft sigh, River gives herself up to the heat of the moment – the perfect counterpoint to those cold, lonely nights in Stormcage – and lets one hand drift down the small of his back to cup the familiar curve of –

'River!'

It isn't quite a yelp, but it's not far off. The Doctor lets her go quickly and steps back, looking decidedly off-balance. River's certain now he's never gone any further with her than kissing: the reality of that hurts a lot more than she imagined it would.

'That was my ... River! You just grabbed my arse! Why did you –' The Doctor pauses, running one hand through his hair. 'No, no, no! Stupid question!' He slaps his head impatiently and tries again. 'Is this really the right time and place for us to ... I mean, for that?'

River forces a serene smile. 'From my point of view, yes, it is. But it's your call, Doctor.'

He fiddles with his bow tie – at this point in his timeline he seems to have displacement activities down to a fine art – and then huffs out a small breath. 'All right, then. Kissing works. Kissing's good. So I think we should do more of the kissing. And after that – ' The Doctor grinds to an awkward halt again and just stands there, twiddling his hands together as if seeking divine inspiration.

River's not divine, but she knows how to be inspirational. She rallies her resources and flashes a saucy little smile. 'And after that, well, we'll see, won't we?'

'Oh, you.' A matching smile appears on the Doctor's lips, and she knows she's pitching it perfectly, drawing him back in, steadying him. 'You just want to grab my arse again, don't you?'

'And is that a problem?'

'Not ... necessarily. If you'll let me – ' The Doctor stops and looks sheepish, shuffling his feet.

'Go on,' she coaxes, intrigued. 'If I'll let you what?'

The Doctor clears his throat. 'Well, I can't help noticing you have very nice breasts. Magnificent breasts, in fact, and it would be interesting to find out what they feel like.' His hands do a kind of involuntary twitch and he stares at them in panic before hastily shoving them behind his back – presumably anxious in case he's offended her. Which is so absurd and charming it renders River barely able to keep a straight face.

'I give you permission to feel my breasts,' she tells him. 'Along with any other parts of me you find interesting. Do we have a deal?'

'A quid pro quo. I see.' He balances on his toes and leans forward a little. 'Yes.'

'Yes, you understand the deal? Or yes, you accept the deal?'

'Yes.' And he grins at her, looking absurdly pleased with himself. Then, with great deliberation, he places his hands, one on each shoulder, and pauses, staring intently into her eyes again. River is quite certain what's going through his mind, and now is definitely not the time to start fielding those awkward questions about exactly who she is.

So she tugs firmly at one end of his bow tie until it comes apart in her hands, and bats her eyes at him. 'Well, come on, then. I don't bite.'

'Oh, I bet you do.' The Doctor leans forward until their lips are almost touching. 'You just assaulted my bow tie. I wouldn't put anything past you.'

'Very wise,' she breathes back. 'Now, for the love of mercy, will you please get on with it?'

'Demanding and romantic. No wonder I like you.'

It's a good kiss, the best so far. His mouth is positively hungry against hers and he's eager enough now to embark on an impromptu tour of the parts of her body he can reach – and with those lanky arms of his, he can reach quite a bit when he puts his mind to it. River encourages his explorations and by the time they break apart, the Doctor has gone so far as to slip her dress off at the shoulder, baring most of one breast in the process. He stares at her, blinking.

'Ah! Now this is new.' He scratches his face. 'Well, not new exactly, because I'm familiar with your basic anatomy. A woman's basic anatomy. Not yours specifically. Yet. Anyway. What I'm trying to say is it's been a while for me and I might be a bit rusty.'

'You'll be fine,' River tells him what he needs to hear, reminding herself she'd be foolish to expect too much.

But when the Doctor reaches out and cups one palm around her breast, his thumb brushing against her nipple, River realises she's been expecting too little. Her body responds instantly to his touch, the fierce surge of memory leaving her heady with desire and blinking back tears at the same time. No crying, she tells herself fiercely. Tears would be impossible to explain without wrecking the moment, and she has no intention of dowsing the flame of a passion only just kindled.

Very successfully kindled at that. He's touching her like he can't quite believe this is happening, that he's doing this and she likes it, and he likes it, and it's all good. And his face – dear heaven – his face! River honestly hadn't realised it was possible for anyone, even the Doctor with his ridiculously malleable features, to look this giddy and lustful all at once. The temptation to squeeze his arse again is irresistible. And this time he doesn't pull away. He swallows hard and pauses, staring down at himself as if only just aware of what's going on with his own body.

'Oh! That's, I'm ...'

'Yes, my love, it is and you are.'

'Ah.'

'Is that a good 'ah' or a bad 'ah'?'

'It's good,' he says without any hesitation. 'Very definitely good.' He gives her a lingering look. 'Permission to continue the – er – ?'

'Grand tour?' Now it's River's turn to feel giddy. 'Permission granted.'

Oh, most definitely granted. The Doctor's last bout of exploration had ended with River backed up and pressed against the railing around the TARDIS console. And she thinks it's just as well because she needs all the support she can get when the Doctor eventually – inevitably – slides a hand between her thighs and –

Oh my! River's eyes close and her mouth falls open on a whimper of pure delight at this most intimate of touches. Here she was, thinking the Doctor might need her to draw him a map to reach this point, but either he's an even quicker learner than she knew or else memories from some previous regeneration are sparking back into life with a delicious vengeance. Because he's turning out to be a far more complicated mixture of innocence and experience than she'd ever thought was possible. And River's liking it. She's liking it very much indeed.

When she hears the Doctor whisper, 'Is this all right?', she doesn't know whether to melt or slap him. Is he actually serious or is he teasing her? Impossible bloody man!

'Yes, it's all right!' River blinks her eyes open and brings the Doctor into sharp focus; his face is lit with an intensity of purpose she never fails to find breathtaking – and never more so than when it's all for her. He wraps her closer to him until tweed scratches against her skin and his breath ghosts across her face, and all the time she's conscious of what he's doing with those lovely, long fingers of his. Because what he's doing is utterly exquisite.

And she's right on the edge. Just a little bit more ... River gasps, rocks her hips and the Doctor swiftly takes the hint ... and oh sweet mercy! Yes! She's there, full throttle, glorying in the heady rush of orgasm, clinging to him like he's the only thing in her world that matters. And, heaven help them both, he is.

'You made noises,' the Doctor mumbles into her hair when she's spent and slumped against his chest. 'Nice noises. I liked them. But no screaming. What happened to the screaming?'

'I like to keep something in reserve. For later,' River tells him, struggling to catch both her breath and her balance, because this isn't just about her and her needs. Not by any means. 'And now, sweetie, it's your turn.'

The eager impatience in the Doctor's eyes as she pulls away from him, tells her here's no need to hold back now, no cajoling required for the next step of the journey. She tugs unceremoniously at the zip of his trousers, shoves down his underwear and, oh yes, he's definitely ready for her.

She flashes her eyes impudently up at him. 'Now this looks interesting.'

The Doctor tries to look modest and fails dismally. 'Well, I'm very glad you think so.'

'Magnificent, in fact. And very pleased to see me, I note,' River says, taking him firmly in hand.

The Doctor's eyes widen as she touches him. And then he goes still, watching in rapt fascination as she explores every inch of him and looking rather as if he's making mental notes about how his body is reacting. Still playing the curious alien, River thinks with a small affectionate twist of her lips. Or possibly, in this instance, just being a narcissist. That's very him, too. And he's just a little bit too comfortable with this right now, so it's time for her to up the ante.

His breath catches the moment River stops toying with him and gets down to business. Because she knows just what her Doctor likes, where to touch him, and when, and how hard and how gentle. She knows him intimately in ways he can't, as yet, even begin to imagine. Unfair advantage? Definitely. But of course she'll use it, because turnabout is fair play after all. So now it's his turn to stumble backwards until he's half-sagged against the railing, the dazed delight in his eyes suggesting he can't quite believe how easily she's doing this to him, let alone how much he's enjoying it.

'River!' he gasps at last, hands grabbing at the rail as if his knees are about to give way under him. 'I'm just getting to know you, and you know everything about me and ... oh! How did you know– Oh, that's ... River! You're cheating!'

She stills her hand, smirking. 'I'm so sorry. I'll stop immediately.'

'Don't you bloody dare!'

'I won't,' River breathes, now utterly and desperately serious. 'I want you to come for me, my love, I need you to come for me.'

One more time. His first and her –

She kills that line of thought. The Doctor has taught her the art of letting go of all that was and is to be, and today of all days she needs to hold that understanding tight in both mind and heart. Quick now, here, now, always—

So River draws this moment out for the Doctor with every ounce of skill in her possession, teasing him to the brink until he's flushed and frantic, his voice hitching in inarticulate sounds of pleasure. Then his face contorts, his hips jerking uncontrollably, and when he comes in her hand, his eyes flood with a look of blissed-out astonishment quite unlike anything she's ever seen before.

There's a moment of utter stillness, broken only by the Doctor's ragged gasps for air, and then he pulls her roughly to him, pressing his forehead against hers and closing his eyes.

'Oh, River ...'

The way he breathes her name! He makes it sound like a spell, and sometimes she thinks that's exactly what it is. And if her name is a magic charm, then so is his own. River Song and the Doctor. The two of them bound together in a web of time and space, cursed and enchanted in equal measure. River could cry at the tangled asymmetry of their lives, but instead she smiles and reaches up to stroke his cheek. The Doctor's face twists for a split second with some nameless sorrow, his eyes haunted.

'River, I don't deserve –'

'No, dear, you don't.' She presses a finger briefly against his lips. 'But enough of that. How did Shakespeare put it? "Use every man after his desert, and who should 'scape whipping?"'

'Ah. Shakespeare. Good man. I owe him a chicken. Or was that Casanova? Casanova. It was definitely Casanova.'

'I see he taught you a thing or two.' She can't resist the tease. The darkness has passed so quickly from his eyes that if River didn't know him better, she'd have sworn it was never there in the first place.

'Cheeky. How do you know it wasn't the other way round? I've been around the block a few times. Just because sometimes I'm a little forgetful, you assume –'

'Oh, shut up and kiss me.'

He's gratifyingly responsive to this suggestion. The kiss becomes unexpectedly vigorous and somehow they both end up in a heap at the base of the TARDIS console, which River thinks might be because her legs gave way and she pulled the Doctor down with her. Or possibly the other way around. Once they've finished kissing to their mutual satisfaction, they manage to arrange themselves on the floor rather nicely with the Doctor's head settled comfortably against her breasts.

River combs her fingers idly through his hair. She knows how much he likes her wild halo of curls, but right now he has no idea she loves his smooth locks every bit as much. 'Well,' she says, her voice mock-serious. 'I suppose it's time we tackled the thermo-couplings.'

'The thermo-couplings?' The Doctor's voice rises with amusing indignation. 'Absolutely not! They can wait.' Then he lifts his head a fraction and addresses the TARDIS: 'Sorry, dear.'

River chuckles, watching him pat the floor in a vaguely conciliatory way. 'I'm sure she'll understand. Are you feeling a little tired?'

'I'm feeling satiated. Languorous.' The Doctor rolls the second word around his mouth approvingly. 'Yes. Languorous. It's a good word, that is. I should use it more often.'

And River smiles and presses a warm kiss to his forehead. 'Oh, you will, my love. You will.'

~end~