THE MAN WHO FORGETS, doctor who [book 02]

x. beware the images of angels

     "The Aplans," Violet replies, almost bored at this point. "Lovely species, have a few friends I'd like to go back and see some time."

     "Indigenous life form," River continues. "They died out four hundred years ago."

     "Two hundred years later, the planet was terraformed," Octavian informs. "Currently there are six billion human colonists."

     The Doctor claps his hands. "Whoo! You lot, you're everywhere. You're like rabbits. I'll never get done saving you."

     "Sir, if there is a clear and present danger to the local population—"

     "Oh, there is. Bad as it gets. Bishop, lock and load."

     "Verger, how are we doing with those explosives? Doctor Song, with me."

     "Two minutes," River replies. "Sweeties, I need you."

     "Sweetie?" the Doctor asks, giving Violet a disbelieving look, his wife only shrugging in response.

     "Get used to it, my love. That's all we're going to get called by her when it comes down to it. We'll get the occasional name or title, but, other than that, it's "sweetie"." 

     Violet walks over to River, hopping along the wooden plank walkways with a child-like glee neither the Doctor nor River have seen in the half-Gallifreyan for a long time. Their ancient eyes are soft as they watch their wife — and, while the look one gives the other is not as soft, there will be a day when their love will give birth to something so magical that nothing has the chance of getting between them without tearing the Universe apart time and time again.

     Upon reaching River and a table scattered with technology, Violet finds a bare enough space and sits on the flat metal surface, absently fiddling with her Vortex Manipulator, missing Jack and Ianto more than usual — and she blames that on having a run-in with John the other day. In the midst of her longing for her other lovers, Violet wonders what her daughters are doing right now out travelling the universe with their partners — and maybe even each other.

     River holds out a brown journal that has clearly seen better days, bringing Violet back to their current present. "I found this. Definitive work on the Angels. Well, the only one. Written by a madman. It's barely readable, but I've marked a few passages."

     The Doctor riffles through the pages of the book. "Not bad. Bit slow in the middle. Didn't you hate his girlfriend? No. No, hang on. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait." He sniffs the book.

     Violet takes the book from the man's hands and flips through it, the ramblings of a madman filling in a few gaps of her knowledge about the Weeping Angels. Oddly enough, there's no pictures of the Angels within the confines of the book, and that strikes a chord within her, making her wonder just why there's no images of the most deadly creatures in existence.

     "Doctor Song?" Amy calls out from the drop ship. "Did you have more than one clip of the Angel?"

     "No, just the four seconds," River calls back.

     The Doctor is clearly perplexed. "This book is wrong. What's wrong with this book? It's wrong."

     "It's so strange when you go all baby face. How early is this for you?"

     "Very early."

     "So you don't know who I am yet?"

     Violet's muscles spasm beneath her skin, not sure whether they should flinch away at the delightful surprise coming from River or not.