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The cherry incident.
That’s how River referred to it for at least two months after their visit to the Planet of the Ice Cream Shops. No matter when in time she came from, she made sure to make one reference to it per visit. The Doctor knew she was doing it on purpose, and it was driving him mad. Clara, who already had a crush on River to begin with, loved it beyond reason. One day, they clamored back into the TARDIS after barely evading death to find a small pint container of fresh cherries sitting atop the console.
And because Clara’s interest was piqued, she cornered the source most likely to tell her on her next visit.
“I’m not going to ask him about that,” Clara said after she successfully dragged River into the kitchen and got them situated with tea. “But, I’m curious. Come on, you’ve got to tell me.”
River took a sip of the spicy chai that Clara had made and considered her words carefully. “Let’s just say,” she said after a moment, “that we made an ill-timed discovery about the anatomy of a human-Time Lord hybrid after regeneration.”
Clara had grasped the concept of regeneration uncannily well after spending some idle time hacking her way through the TARDIS data banks – or what the ship allowed her to hack into, she realized. She knew the basics about the Doctor’s wife – that she was the daughter of two of his former companions who happened to have Time Lord DNA. So, she merely nodded. “How many times have you regenerated?”
“Twice. This is my third regeneration. The first was when I was a little girl in New York. The second was ... well, in your equivalent of early 20s.”
“So, when you made an ill-timed discovery …” Clara’s voice drifted off as she thought of all that could be regenerated … then winced. “Oh. Oh. I’m so sorry.”
“I was fine with it. He acted like he’d just committed an act of genocide. Bless.”
If it hadn’t been for walking in on the Doctor and River near the swimming pool mostly nude, the thought of her mysterious man from space having any sort of sexual intercourse would have short-circuited her brilliant mind. As it was, Clara had a hard time grasping the concept to begin with.
She toyed with her mug. “So, now I’m curious about something else. Um … do you have … you know, every month?”
“Sadly, that was a curse I couldn’t escape.”
Clara tsk-tsked and, in a show of feminine solidary, let River know where her stash of dark chocolate was hidden.
-----
“I hope,” the Doctor said crossly when he found River relaxing in an oversized squashy bean chair in the library with a bowl of cherries in her lap, “you’ve finally gotten it out of your system.”
She made a non-committal sound, twisted a stem off a cherry and popped it in her mouth.
He glared at her.
She held a finger up, working her mouth furiously until she stuck her tongue out, displaying a perfectly tied knot. She delicately picked up the knot and offered it. “Now, I have it out of my system.”
He threw himself theatrically onto the chair next to her, arms and legs going every which way. He ignored the stem. “Are you ever going to let me live that down?”
“Eventually.” She scooted off her chair and onto his, tucking herself into his side. He grumbled, but rearranged limbs so his arms were around her. “You know, this is how it got started in the first place.” She wiggled her bum ever so slightly. “You just couldn’t leave me alone when I was studying.”
He tapped her nose, and neither of them needed her diary to remind them about what had happened all those years ago.
-----
River decided that her plan was perfect.
It had happened spur of the moment, as most of her best plans tended to happen. She’d secured that pass to Traxia 4 in the year 72-TripleHelix-C to check into a local myth regarding the Doctor when she came across the TARDIS in the marketplace. Her hearts stuttered, then beat double-time as her hand tightened around the strap of the knapsack she wore. She’d meant to do research, but …
The hum of the TARDIS was like a siren’s song, and she found herself reverently caressing the wood paneling just above the handle. She hadn’t seen it since just after Berlin, after that hazy trip to the hospital with the Doctor carrying her the entire time and barking orders to her parents. She’d recorded all those memories, impressions really, when she broke the seal on the diary the Doctor had gifted her. She remembered the hum of the ship, his arms trembling as he yelled at her not to die, that she’d given up too much.
Had she?
She stared at her hands, the blue veins snaking through white skin. She still wasn’t quite used to the new body yet. She’d spent years as a black woman, and she still missed some of the intricate braids, curls, and weaves she could do with her hair.
Well, there was no time to dwell on it. The TARDIS was here, and think of the research she could get done in its library. She knew it had one, an immense one. When the TARDIS had imparted the knowledge of flying the ship to her child, it’d also included details about the ship itself. The library was one of the rooms that could never be jettisoned, about the only one outside the console room and the zero room.
River cast her gaze about. No Doctor. He probably wasn’t in there, because if he were, the ship would be gone. That meant he was on planet, probably doing whatever it was to cause the myth to happen to begin with. No way he was just out for a spot of tea. She could either track him down and watch him at work or take the chance to avail herself of his library then convince him to give her a lift home.
“Haven’t trespassed in ages,” River murmured and tried the door. It swung open at her touch, and she frowned. “Now, what’s the fun in breaking and entering if you make it easy?” she gently scolded the TARDIS, running her hands over the wall as she closed the door behind her and made her way to the library.
There was tea and fresh-baked scones waiting for her on a low table with large, squashy beanbag chairs ringing it. It was more comfortable than the staid sofas or tables she’d been expecting, but River wasn’t about to complain. She indulged herself in perusing the shelves, grabbing whatever titles interested her. She had two stacks of 20 books each amassed before realizing that wasn’t going to work. She wasn’t even through the first shelf of books. She shook her head, grabbed two books from the top of the first stack and settled in one of the chairs to read.
She wasn’t sure how long she spent there. Eventually, the two books she grabbed turned into 15, and notes were spread everywhere. She went through the entire pot of tea and half the scones. She eventually was forced to find a loo and was grateful that the ship had placed one just opposite of the library door. She didn’t take long, but when she stepped back into the library, she found the Doctor standing among the mess that she made.
His head snapped up like a wolf scenting its mate, and she frowned. That was an odd metaphor to use, River, she told herself. His eyes widened and a smile so wide appeared that she found herself smiling back automatically. He swallowed, hastily licked his hand and passed it over his hair before rubbing his shirtfront and pushing back his tweed to expose his suspenders. “Hello, dear.”
“Hello, sweetie,” she purred, and his eyes grew even brighter. Her hearts beat a little faster again, and she found her palms sweating just slightly. It annoyed her. So did the momentary speechlessness. What did you say to the man you spent most of your life to date trying to kill? “Busy day?”
Good job, River, she scolded herself. Your impressive command of the English language will get you that Ph.D. for sure.
“Oh, I didn’t get up to much. Stopped a war from happening, prevented an assassination. A boring day. Was really trying to find a good game of squash, but I’m lacking a partner. Or, I was.” He leaned over, studying the cover of one of her books. His nose wrinkled a bit. “Gallifreyan Dynastical History from the Reugals to the Druxals. I hated that class. Why are you reading this?”
“Research. I’m working on my thesis.”
“Thesis?” Brow furrowed, he pulled out a battered book out of his coat pocket and flipped through it. “Early days for you. Not far from Berlin, I take it? What year are you in university?”
“Isn’t that a little personal?”
“River.”
“Just kidding.” River picked up her diary from where she left it next to the scone plate. “I’m in my first year. Second semester. Thanks to the credentials you forged for me, I was able to skip straight into the doctoral program.” She lowered the book. She wondered if she should tell him it was their first meeting since she’d been in hospital. She absently drummed her fingers against the diary’s spine.
“You’re part-Time Lord. You didn’t need to be taking an introductory maths course.”
“Bless.” Because if he hadn’t done it, River would have forged the credentials herself. She took her seat and pulled her book and tablet into her lap. “Well, Doctor, it’s been quite awhile since I’ve seen you. Let’s catch up.”
-----
Catching up led to hours of talking, another pot of tea and two plates of scones consumed. Then it had led to an experimental kiss, which was really the Doctor’s fault. River had suspected he was much further down their timeline, and it was confirmed when he leaned in instinctively to brush an affectionate kiss against her cheek.
“Forward, aren’t we?” she teased, barely missing her beat as her traitorous hearts sped up again. The innocent gesture caused awareness to spike through her.
“I forgot,” he babbled, but he was so endearing that she grabbed his coat lapels and tugged him to her for a proper kiss.
Proper kisses led to proper touches. Then clothes became a nuisance. Then patience became an endangered concept as River quickly discovered the benefits of having a lover who had decades – if not centuries – to get to know your body. She’d done quite a bit of self-exploring. She was no prude and delighted in spending plenty of time getting acquainted with her new body. But the Doctor knew of sensitive spots that she didn’t think to discover on her own. Or she had, but it was different when it was the touch of his calloused fingers against the curve of her hip, the underside of a breast, or two inches above her left knee.
She’d wanted to kill him not-so-long ago, but now all she wanted to do was have an extremely good fuck. That’s what it was, she sternly told herself as she pushed him back in the chair and straddled his hips. Just a sexual release for both of them. Nothing more. Nothing less. She still didn’t exactly know what she felt for him, what she should feel for him. He gazed at her as if he worshipped her, and something about that made her feel cherished and scared as hell at the same time. No, no, no, River, she instructed herself. You’re just having sex. You’ve had it plenty of times as Mels, and it’s been awhile. It’ll feel good, and you’ll go home. That’s it.
She reached between them for his cock, and he surprised her by rolling her over and pressing his forehead to hers a second before entering her with a swift, quick stroke. To say the pain took her by surprise was an understatement. It ripped through her in a single, harsh wave, and she cried out involuntarily.
The Doctor froze, staring down at her in shock. “You’ve never done this before?” he squeaked.
“Of course I’ve done it before!” she shot back, mortified.
“No, you haven’t!” To prove it, he gently pulled out of her and they stared at the blood on him like it was a fungus. She pressed her fingers against herself and saw the blood smeared on them when she examined them.
“I don’t understand,” she said, and he rolled to his feet. Any chance of their encounter proceeding was gone as he rushed around like a chicken with his head cut off, not quite knowing how to manage the situation. With a sigh, she leaned forward and snagged a couple of napkins from next to the scone plate to clean herself off. He disappeared from the library and returned a couple minutes later with trousers on and a damp rag in hand.
“No, no, let me,” he insisted, batting her hand away. He gently wiped the blood off, his face a picture perfect study in sorrow and regret. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry. I don’t understand.”
“I think I do,” River said sympathically. She ran her hands through his hair, and he finally risked a look at her. She caressed his cheek and tried to ignore the swell of emotion in her chest for this man. “Sweetie, I’m part-human. You’ve had sex with humans, I know you have. You and Rose Tyler left some very impressive stories in your wake.”
He had the good grace to blush. “But Rose wasn’t …”
“No? Any others?”
“Not for their first time. I don’t go around deflowering virgins, River!”
“Well, I'm most certainly not one. I can assure you that in my previous incarnation that I went around the block several times. I lost … well, Mels, I should say, lost her virginity when she was 14. Considering that the hymen is largely a piece of human biology, and given I was born to human parents, then when I regenerated … so did that apparently. But it’s over and done with, and we’ll not have to deal with that again.” She hooked her fingers in the waist of his trousers and pulled him to her.
He tried to move away. “River, I don’t think we should.”
“Sweetie, you leave me like this, and I’ll be tempted to steal that sonic screwdriver I’ve heard about and take care of things myself.” His nostrils flared slightly, and his eyes darkened with arousal. Intrigued, she arched an eyebrow. “Oh, so I’ve done that in my future, have I? Maybe there’s no time like the present to get started.”
“Not this time,” he insisted and pushed her back before kneeling between her legs and lowering his head. Then she didn’t think about using the sonic as a vibrator for a long time.
-----
A couple centuries later …
Well, that was an excellent re-enactment of our first time together from my perspective,” River managed when she could find her voice again. She took a long, satisfied breath and closed her eyes to bask in the afterglow of the orgasms her husband had brought her to. Making up for lost time, he’d said both then and now. “We could do round 2 of your first time, but we’d have to break several public indecency laws to do so.”
Next to her, the Doctor rolled his eyes. He held up one of the cherries. They had knocked the bowl over during one of their more physical moments. “I wonder if I could do that knot thing you did?”
She cracked open one eye. “I’d like to see you try.”
He started to bite into the cherry when River leaned forward and swiped it. She winked, he grumbled, she offered the stem, and he tried using his tongue to tie it into a knot. After accidentally swallowing 23 stems, he gave up.