Civil - (11th Doctor, River Song)
Title: Civil
Author: betawho
Rating: PG
Characters: 11th Doctor, River Song, Abraham Lincoln
Words: 401
The Doctor sat hunched on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. River sat beside him, holding his hand.
"You couldn't have prevented it, Sweetie," she said.
"I know." He looked up, his deep eyes sad. "He was a nice man." He ignored the 19 foot tall statue of a long limbed, bony faced man sitting behind them. A man with a long face, but deep kind eyes.
"Yes, he was." River brought his hand to her mouth and kissed it. He looked at her and gave a weak sad-eyed smile.
"At least Jeremy and his brother won't be accused of it now," he said, leaning back in the spring sunshine and draping his arm around River's hips.
"Yes," she said, pulling one of the ribbons from the neck of her period dress and trailing it teasingly across his nose, like he was a cat. He grinned and batted at her.
She grinned back. "Having two escaped slaves being accused of killing the President of the United States, at that point in time, could have caused incalculable damage."
"Well, you're the historian," he batted at the ribbon again.
"Archeologist."
He crinkled his nose at her. He swiped the ribbon and sat up and deftly tied it in a neat bow in her hair before she could stop him. He gave it an approving pat.
She rolled her eyes.
"Well," he looked around. The cherry trees were in bloom, the tourists were out in force, and they were garnering some unusual looks.
He supposed a top hat and tails and a hoop skirt were likely to draw attention in this T-shirts and jeans age. More than one person stopped to click a picture of them with a cell phone. He expected they did make a dashing couple.
He hopped up. He held a hand down to River. She plopped her hand in it and hoisted herself up. She dusted off her skirts.
He scooped up his top hat and shoved it on his head, making his ears poke out. River grinned but didn't mention it.
He turned and offered her a jaunty elbow. "Since going to the theater turned out to be a bust, how about I offer you a hot dog and a gawk around the Smithsonian?"
River tucked her gloved hand into his arm. "Why, la sir," she said in her best Southern Belle drawl, fluttering her eyelashes at him. "I'd be delighted."
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Author: betawho
Rating: PG
Characters: 11th Doctor, River Song, Abraham Lincoln
Words: 401
The Doctor sat hunched on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. River sat beside him, holding his hand.
"You couldn't have prevented it, Sweetie," she said.
"I know." He looked up, his deep eyes sad. "He was a nice man." He ignored the 19 foot tall statue of a long limbed, bony faced man sitting behind them. A man with a long face, but deep kind eyes.
"Yes, he was." River brought his hand to her mouth and kissed it. He looked at her and gave a weak sad-eyed smile.
"At least Jeremy and his brother won't be accused of it now," he said, leaning back in the spring sunshine and draping his arm around River's hips.
"Yes," she said, pulling one of the ribbons from the neck of her period dress and trailing it teasingly across his nose, like he was a cat. He grinned and batted at her.
She grinned back. "Having two escaped slaves being accused of killing the President of the United States, at that point in time, could have caused incalculable damage."
"Well, you're the historian," he batted at the ribbon again.
"Archeologist."
He crinkled his nose at her. He swiped the ribbon and sat up and deftly tied it in a neat bow in her hair before she could stop him. He gave it an approving pat.
She rolled her eyes.
"Well," he looked around. The cherry trees were in bloom, the tourists were out in force, and they were garnering some unusual looks.
He supposed a top hat and tails and a hoop skirt were likely to draw attention in this T-shirts and jeans age. More than one person stopped to click a picture of them with a cell phone. He expected they did make a dashing couple.
He hopped up. He held a hand down to River. She plopped her hand in it and hoisted herself up. She dusted off her skirts.
He scooped up his top hat and shoved it on his head, making his ears poke out. River grinned but didn't mention it.
He turned and offered her a jaunty elbow. "Since going to the theater turned out to be a bust, how about I offer you a hot dog and a gawk around the Smithsonian?"
River tucked her gloved hand into his arm. "Why, la sir," she said in her best Southern Belle drawl, fluttering her eyelashes at him. "I'd be delighted."
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