Yowzah Oneshot Collection (3)

70(G)

Thousands have lived without love, not one without water

   mygalfriday (BrinneyFriday)

“Just promise me you won’t use it unless absolutely necessary,” the Doctor frowns down at River, standing outside her cell and watching her smile gleefully down at the bottle of blood red nail polish in her hands.

It looks perfectly innocent but before the polish dries, it’s absolutely deadly. She’d nicked it from a market on Phaester Osiris and the Doctor has little expectation of getting it back from her – the best he can hope for is a compromise.

River runs her fingers reverently over the bottle and mutters, “Define necessary.”

“River,” he scolds, eyeing her a little nervously now.

The bottle is new and shiny, and the Doctor’s wife is nothing if not always eager to try out a new toy.

Laughing softly, River finally looks up at him, curling the bottle of polish in her small fist. “I’ll use it when I have to, sweetie. That’s all I can promise.”

The best he’s going to get, probably.

Sighing, he nods reluctantly and curls his hand around hers. “Very well, then, my bad girl. Now give us a kiss before the guard change.”

He makes that ridiculous kissy face she always rolls her eyes at, but River only laughs fondly now, wrapping an arm around his neck and bringing his mouth down to hers. He holds her close, still rather chuffed that he’d finally figured out where to put his hands, and revels in the taste and feel of his River.

Despite how much he loves the running and the adventure and the close calls that characterize all his adventures with her, the Doctor thinks this might be his very favorite part. The goodbye kiss. Well, not the goodbye, per se. Goodbyes are rubbish. He hates goodbyes. But the kissing is nice. More than nice. Kissing River in particular is brilliant.

River nips briefly at his lip before letting him go with a smile that the Doctor returns goofily. She traces her index finger down his nose and over his lips, her eyes soft. “I love you,” she whispers, and he feels his hearts swell and constrict all at once.

He opens his mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. Not a sound.

River smiles, a melancholy mix of sadness and understanding that makes his chest ache. “It’s alright, sweetie. I know.”

And he knows that she knows. He shows her often enough and he tells himself that it’s sufficient, that River hears all the things he isn’t saying. But he still can’t help the stab of guilt when she tells him she loves him and all he can do is kiss her in response.

It’s not that he doesn’t love River. He loves her more than anyone or anything in the universe – and considering how vast and full of fantastical things the universe is, the Doctor thinks that says quite a lot about how much he adores his wife. Not loving River Song isn’t the problem. The problem is that for the first time in a very long time, he’s afraid.