Yowzah Oneshot Collection (3)

156(G)

dancing on moonlight and memory

                     JaneScarlett

He loved it when he got to dress up, perhaps because his last regeneration had hated it so; had scoffed and grumbled a little too much about how the trouble he found himself in was often threefold when he was in formal dress.

But, the Doctor thought as he preened in the mirror, admiring himself from all angles, he was more mature this go round and willing to admit that perhaps Martha had been right about it not being the fault of his clothes. (After all, it did seem that no matter if he wore bowties or celery, scarves or even a frock coat...trouble did tend to attract itself to him like flies to a particularly hungry frog.)

So he was through worrying that tails would get him into even more trouble than tweed. He was older and wiser now… and a thousand years old is certainly old enough to appreciate the cut of a well-tailored jacket and waist coat, the shininess of new, pristine shoes... not to mention the elegance of a top hat...

Which was twitched off his head a moment later. He frowned, turning to face his wife; frowning harder when he realized that River had it perched on her own head, resting precariously on her curls.

“No hats, Doctor.”

“But-“

“No. Not this time. And besides, you’ve taken quite long enough without needing additional time to primp over the angle of your hat brim. Honestly,” she sighed, “you’ve taken longer to get ready tonight than I did with all your fussing in the mirror.” Her eyes lit with a wicked gleam.

“I really thought the traits from your female regeneration wouldn’t start for a while. Must be that they predate the actual event.”

“River!” He blushed, the tips of his ears heating to a red rarely seen in nature. “I am not, and have not been and will never be-“

She coughed once. Elegantly. Pointedly. He immediately stopped talking.

“Spoilers?” He squeaked.

She winked.

The problem with them being all back-to-front and mixed around was that sometimes, he couldn’t tell when she was teasing. He pouted; and she leaned over to press a kiss on his cheek.

“You know,” River said conversationally, carefully hanging the hat on a hook, “sometimes, you worry too much Doctor; and about the strangest things. You look fine tonight. If I were pressed, I might even use the word…hot.”

“I just wanted everything to be perfect...”

She smiled, obscurely pleased by his way of trying to make their dates special. The care he gave to his appearance; even though she never told him that she didn’t really care. It was enough, them being together.

“It often is, and worrying won’t make the outcome any different. And…” she paused, lips twisting into a sly smirk, “don't sulk. It'll give you lines.”

He smoothed his fingers over his forehead, hastily. It was a pity that River knew how to play off his vanity.

And he wasn't sulking… Well, alright. Maybe a little; but sometimes, like tonight, he felt it was warranted. It could be miserable when he had the best of intentions and River laughed...

“This is an extremely special night,” he continued doggedly, adjusting his bowtie. “A once-a-year night, River!”

“I know,” she answered, her smirk softening into a real smile. “You tell me so. Every year.” She batted his hands away, tweaked his bowtie into place herself. “And every year, nothing goes wrong and you manage to look handsome enough to have me on your arm.”