Yowzah Oneshot Collection (1)

94(G)

“Off for some more digging today?” the Doctor asks as they’re making breakfast, remarkably without pulling a face - though admittedly, she can’t always tell when this face is pulling a face.

River hums. They haven’t been here very long - longer than she ever thought he’d be able to stay in one place without scaling the walls out of boredom, but not long at all in the grand scheme of twenty-four years - and she’s already acquired quite the handsome fossil collection. Darillium is dreamy from an archaeological perspective, as well as many others. “Thought I’d have another nosey around the foot of the Towers,” she tells her husband, who’s spooning sugars into his coffee. She drops a kiss between his shoulder blades as she passes him on the way to the fridge. “See what else I can find.”

The Doctor lifts his head, eyes following her. “Thought maybe I could come along.”

She stops so abruptly that milk sloshes onto the bench. “On a dig?”

“Yeah.”

“On a dig.”

He shrugs, taking a swig of his coffee. “Why not?”

“Your lifelong disdain for archaeology springs to mind.”

He smiles at her over the rim of his mug. “I happen to know a very convincing archaeologist.”

After checking him over for a raised temperature or signs of poisoning, she swings by the living room to pick him up once she’s dressed for the occasion, hands propped on hips to show off her khaki overalls and muddied boots. “What do you think?”

He smiles in that way that makes his nose scrunch up. “Amazing.”

He’s said it so much to her these past few weeks that it’s become somewhat of a running joke between them, but it still surprises her a little. She bundles her tools into her bag, trying to hide her smile. “Yes, well. You called those slugs at the Dakkan swamps amazing.”

“Oh, come on - iridescent slugs?! That’s just objectively sexy!”

Her own nose scrunches fondly. “You’re weird.”

They spend most of their walk to the dig site at the foot of the Towers debating the most impressive sub-species of slug. River sets down her rucksack near the mark in the ground she’d left for herself when she was last here, while the Doctor whistles at the holes peppering the ground. “You’ve been busy.”

She takes a moment to survey her work as she ties her hair back. “Suppose I have. The ground here is gorgeous for digging. And there are some very nice rocks.”

“Oh, I do love a nice rock.”

His voice sounds far away, and is followed by the sound of metal repeatedly hitting something solid. She turns to find him taking chunks out of the soil with one of her trowels, and watches him in faint horror. “What are you doing?”

He looks up, innocent. “I’m helping.”

“You’re hindering. You can’t just go hacking at the ground, you have to - look. Let me show you.” She drops to her knees next to him, prying the trowel out of his hand. He listens attentively as she guides him through the basic skills that she usually teaches her undergraduate students, until she feels safe to tentatively return the confiscated trowel.

They work in companionable silence under the moonlight - this face seems less desperate to fill silences, she observes as she steals glances at him while she digs. He calls out to her when he finds his first treasure.

“River! Come and look at this shell fossil!”

As she turns at his excited yelp, her hand slips from the edge of the hole she’s digging. Her palm smacks against the hard rock at the bottom, forcing her hand back and sending a hot jolt of pain shooting up to her elbow. She regains her balance in a second, but her wrist is throbbing. “Ah! Damn it!”