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                         Just Sleep

                     Cryswimmer

Just Sleep

Some nights, he just watched her sleep. This was one of those nights.

He had developed a habit of picking River up from Stormcage each evening, after Amy had settled in to sleep. He was tired of River having the upper hand, and knowing him so much better than he knew her. He decided that he would get to know her, or at least try to. He hadn't counted on how much he would enjoy it. Nearly every night, he would promise himself he wasn’t going to do it, then he would spend some time fiddling with the TARDIS and finally he would give in and go pick her up.

She was rarely surprised to see him. She came with him willingly, but that didn’t surprise him. He might not be her Doctor yet, but he was a break from the monotony of prison at the very least. They went on their travels – stopping off for dinner in Paris, or a walk along the canals of Rome, or jaunting off into the far reaches of space – and then he had to take her back. Some nights he did so directly, but on others she was tired enough to ask for a nap.

The first time it had happened, he had been a little uncomfortable. He had known what she would be to him, and keeping her around for extended periods seemed to be tempting fate. Still, on the nights when she was particularly tired he found that she was a little listless without some rest. She had told him once that she had a hard time sleeping in the prison. He could certainly understand that.

So he had decided months ago to have the TARDIS set up a room. No sooner had he made the choice than a room appeared. It hadn’t been what he had planned. The room had a huge bathroom – both a shower and a tub – and a bed that was enormous. There had been a small wardrobe, a couple of comfortable chairs, and a desk. Her bedding was in browns and beiges, trimmed in a soft peach color, as fluffy as a cloud, and mounded with pillows. Frankly, it wasn’t what he had pictured for her. He would have thought boudoir maroon or cabaret black would have been more her style – lace and useless frill, with a sexy edge – but that wasn’t what the TARDIS had created. Instead, when he had input River Song, the TARDIS had created a lovely space that was both utilitarian and comfortable. The Old Girl never ceased to amaze him.

The first time he had taken River into the room, she had been stunned speechless. Honestly, it had been one of the few times he had seen her so dazed. This didn’t make sense to him, because she had seen their future, so she must have known about the room. Or maybe she hadn't. Maybe they were finally moving through time in the same direction, at least for a while. She had looked around, wandered to the bed, and picked up a soft pillow. “This is for me?” she had asked very quietly.

“The TARDIS designed it,” he was quick to tell her. “You need a place to sleep, and sometimes to clean up, and I guess she thought you’d need space after being in a cell all day.”

River had silently nodded, walked slowly into the bathroom, and closed the door. He had just stood there, waiting and wondering what he should do, as he heard the water come on. Thinking she might have just decided to take a shower or something, he had backed from the room and headed for his control console. He felt more comfortable there than standing in a woman’s bedroom.

She had returned a few moments later. No shower, he decided when he looked her over, but a freshly scrubbed face with red-rimmed eyes and a tenuous smile. “The clothes are amazing,” she told him. “I don’t know how she got the size right.”

“Oh, she can certainly be amazing,” he muttered, thinking how different the room had been from what he had pictured.

“It’s all so perfect. Thank you.” River was uncharacteristically serious and genuine.

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