Yowzah Oneshot Collection (3)

197(G)

you walked off the water in a porcupine of light

           areyoumarriedriver

He runs.

Delays and avoidance are skills he has had centuries to hone, and he is oh so very good at them. He saves Christmas five times, helps discover toppled empires (conveniently forgetting along the way that he may have had a hand in the toppling of them in the first place. River would call it cheating. River would-).  He orbits the Library no less than fifteen times, sitting in the open door of his TARDIS, his long legs dangling in the free space above a planet filled with books and carnivorous shadows and his wife, and he speaks out loud to the inky vastness of space, confessing his fears and whispering secrets to the stars around him.

He doesn’t visit the Ponds, because he can’t be sure if they know. He can’t visit anyone because he’s said goodbye to everyone. So he throws around aliases and visits planets that are off the beaten track. He doesn’t make friends, but he saves some people, ignores their thanks and enters his TARDIS alone, always alone, with a snap of his fingers and his wife on his mind.

He has all of time and space at his disposal.

He doesn’t need to be anywhere.

Time is not the boss of him.

But he cannot run forever, and he shouldn’t be shocked when she is the one to catch up with him, in the middle of a barren desert on some tiny remote planet, her hands covered in dust as she peers up at him, studying his expression intently. “Hello, sweetie.”

He swallows and stares down at her, and if he’s honest with himself, which he never, ever is (the Doctor lies. But every lie is told to himself first.)-  he could admit that he’s been purposely helping these types of discoveries along in the hopes that she would be there for one of them.  He colours and clears his throat awkwardly. “River. This is a surprise!” He shoves his hands into his pockets and rocks back on his heels.  She frowns, standing up and brushing the grey dirt from her pants (this entire planet is greys and blacks, ashes to ashes and dust to dust and of no interest to anyone who isn’t an archaeologist. Or someone who is accidentally on purpose looking for an archaeologist.) and climbs out of the shallow pit she was sifting through, stepping up beside him.

The sky is grey and the sun is a colourless orb, hung low in the sky, and it makes her eyes seem like granite as she looks up at him with curiosity. “It’s an abandoned planet fifteen centuries after a total extinction, sweetie. What exactly were you expecting to find here if not me?” Her brow lifts delicately and he finds himself drinking in the sight of her. Her skin looks pale, almost glowing in the odd, washed-out lighting of this planet, her hair is pulled back and there are smudges of dust on her cheek and jaw. She looks exhausted. She looks filthy. She looks-

“You look amazing.” He breathes the words out and she actually looks down, fidgeting and biting her lip as she blushes.

“Right. Well then, shall we do diaries? Mine’s in my tent, come on.” She starts walking past him to a row of drab canvas tents located several yards away from the dig site. “I’m finished for today, Walt – alright?” She calls over to a man who is hunched over a table, sorting finds and scanning several artefacts.

“Alright, Professor.” He waves dismissively. “See you in the morning.” Walt – whoever Walt is, doesn’t even look up and the Doctor stumbles as he hurries after River.

“Wait – Professor?!” The breath in his lungs seizes and he feels adrenaline pouring through his body as his hearts pound and his body prepares for flight. No. No. This is not the her he wanted to find. This is not the River – this is far too late and he is crossing time streams. His throat feels suddenly dry and she pushes open the flap of the very last tent, waiting for him to pass her before she enters after him, letting the doors shut behind him.