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it's so dreamy, oh fantasy free me

                     hihoplastic

River throws her head back and laughs, her hand coming up to stifle the sound.

“Sweetie, what on Earth—?”

The Doctor grins and bows elaborately, tipping his top hat in her direction. “Care for a dance?”

He twirls for emphasis, and throws out a hand for her to take.

“I’m not sure I’d call that dancing,” she says, but she’s giggling, and her hand fits softly in his, fingertips brushing as he tugs her in close, cradling her against him as he sways softly.

“Oi! I’ll have you know I had lessons from the very best.”

“Ginger Rogers?”

The Doctor huffs. “I was going to say Astair, but. Yes.” He blows his fringe away from his face in a huff, and River tucks her face into his neck, breathing him in, time and salt winds from every planet. He kisses her temple, turning them slowly, effortlessly around the ballroom, mindless of the other couples. There’s only her, and the music, and the tickle of her hair against his jaw, and he feels weightless. “What’d you say, wife?" He murmurs into her hair, “Should we show them how it’s really done?"

River giggles again, a sound so bright his cheeks stretch in response. She pulls back slightly, smoothing both hands over his chest to rest beneath his bow-tie, her fingers brushing the edges.

"I don’t know how," she admits, her voice low and soft and the timber of it rolls through him, his personal thunderstorm of heat and electricity.

He blinks at that, head rearing back and mouth open comically as he gapes. “River Song can’t dance?" He sounds bewildered, and River shakes her head, chuckling.

"I can do this," she says, curling into his arms as they continue to move gently. “But no. I never learned."

His expression falters at that, a mix of guilt and sadness that she brushed away with a hand against his cheek, and he kisses the tip of her nose in apology. “We’ll just have to fix that, then."

"Here?"

"Right here," he declares firmly, tugging her closer, hips moving against hers in a way that makes her breath catch.

He smirks, and River rolls her eyes. “If that’s the kind of dancing you’re talking about…"

"Hush," he chastises, flushing as she slides a hand over his back and down over his arse, drawing him closer briefly.

He untangles himself far too quickly for her liking, but keeps hold of her hand and waist as he runs her through a series of steps. She catches on quickly, letting him lead, settling in to the back and forward.

"Now," he says, maneuvering himself behind her to hold her waist. “Jump to the left."

"Jump?"

"Jump." He demonstrates. River follows. “Step to the right." He takes her hands in his and places them in her hips. “Bring your knees, like this."

"Darling, I don’t think—"

"Trust me." She huffs, but does as he says. They’ve garnered a small, mostly disinterested audience by now, but River doesn’t care. He’s warm against her back and his breath tickles her neck as he pushed against her hips. She laughs as the words “pelvic thrust" leave his lips, and the Doctor giggles into her hair. “Raise your arms up like this." He draws her arms up over her head, fingers trailing down and back up her bare skin. “Now wave."

"Sweetie, I’m not sure this dance is appropriate for—"

"Jump to the left!" River laughs, feeling ridiculous, and the Doctor starts singing behind her, too soft for anyone to hear as he moves with her. “Step to the right, with your hands on your hips, bring your knees in tight."

"Doctor—"

"But it’s the pelvic thrust, that really drives you insane." He moved his hips behind her, much to the dismay of many onlookers, and River laughs again, her face flushed and eyes wide and as he brings her hands over her head, cheers. “See, you’ve got it! Not so hard, eh?"

River smirks, “The dance, no. Other things…"

The Doctor blushes and steps back, tugging his coat closed and glaring. Then his face lights up, and he holds up a finger. “Hang on a mo'!"

"Where are you—" But he disappears into the crowd. A few moments later she hears the distinct whir of his screwdriver, and then the music changes to something obviously out of this time, and she rolls her eyes as he skids back to her through the confused crowd. The Doctor jumps into position next to her, grinning proudly.

"Sweetie, this song doesn’t come out for another fifty years."

"You know it then?"

"I’ve heard it before, but I—"

"Jump to the left!"

River laughs and shakes her head. "People are staring!"

The Doctor continues dancing, his body wiggling in ways she isn’t sure are human let alone Time Lord. “And when has that ever bothered you?"

He grabs her hand and waves it above his head, singing loudly, and River can’t help it. She’s the most feared woman in the universe, married to the most feared man; there’s a gun tucked up under her skirts and she’s seen more in the last two years of her very long life than most will see in the entirety of theirs. But The Doctor is grinning and the music is loud and he’s looking at her with such pride and joy, an expression that only doubles when she grabs her skirts and joins in.

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