Different Methods - (11th Doctor, River Song)
Title: Different Methods
Author: betawho
Rating: PG
Characters: 11th Doctor, River Song
Words: 320
Summary: River and the Doctor have different ways of doing things. But somehow they always work best together.
River ran into the corridor, slammed the blast door, and grabbed his hand.
“Run!”
They sprinted down the hallway, the sound of labored spacecraft engines rising around them.
“River, what did you do?” the Doctor demanded as they ducked around a corner and pelted for the escape pod where the Tardis was stored.
“It was just a little bomb,” River said, grinning evilly back over her shoulder at him.
Suddenly there were cries of distress and dismay from all parts of the ship.
She looked back over her shoulder at him again, one eyebrow raised. “What did you do?” she asked.
He shrugged and grinned back at her, his floppy hair dangling in his eyes. “I cut the navigation controls, and put bubble soap in the internal atmosphere recyclers.”
Bubbles started to float out of the air vents around them.
They pelted through the fairyland of multicolored bubbles. Soapsuds burst and slicked every available surface. They staggered as a huge jolt almost knocked them off their feet. The engines fell silent.
Curses, sounds of dismay, running feet, slipping, thuds, and a wailing siren followed them as they nipped through the escape pod hatch and squirmed their way around the edges into the Tardis door.
They fell inside and slammed the doors after them, panting and grinning.
The Doctor lurched up and went to the console, quickly setting coordinates and pulling the dematerialization lever.
River turned on her side and propped her head up on her hand, watching him with a smug look.
He tapped a message out on the typewriter and hit send with the flair of a concert pianist. “Authorities notified! One spaceship full of cannibal space pirates, clean and stranded,” he said. He leaned his hip on the console and crossed his arms, grinning.
She grinned back at him, eyes intent, lazily scratching a figure eight into the Tardis floor with one slow fingernail. She waggled her hips. “Just the way we like them,” she said throatily.
The Doctor stood up very straight.
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Author: betawho
Rating: PG
Characters: 11th Doctor, River Song
Words: 320
Summary: River and the Doctor have different ways of doing things. But somehow they always work best together.
River ran into the corridor, slammed the blast door, and grabbed his hand.
“Run!”
They sprinted down the hallway, the sound of labored spacecraft engines rising around them.
“River, what did you do?” the Doctor demanded as they ducked around a corner and pelted for the escape pod where the Tardis was stored.
“It was just a little bomb,” River said, grinning evilly back over her shoulder at him.
Suddenly there were cries of distress and dismay from all parts of the ship.
She looked back over her shoulder at him again, one eyebrow raised. “What did you do?” she asked.
He shrugged and grinned back at her, his floppy hair dangling in his eyes. “I cut the navigation controls, and put bubble soap in the internal atmosphere recyclers.”
Bubbles started to float out of the air vents around them.
They pelted through the fairyland of multicolored bubbles. Soapsuds burst and slicked every available surface. They staggered as a huge jolt almost knocked them off their feet. The engines fell silent.
Curses, sounds of dismay, running feet, slipping, thuds, and a wailing siren followed them as they nipped through the escape pod hatch and squirmed their way around the edges into the Tardis door.
They fell inside and slammed the doors after them, panting and grinning.
The Doctor lurched up and went to the console, quickly setting coordinates and pulling the dematerialization lever.
River turned on her side and propped her head up on her hand, watching him with a smug look.
He tapped a message out on the typewriter and hit send with the flair of a concert pianist. “Authorities notified! One spaceship full of cannibal space pirates, clean and stranded,” he said. He leaned his hip on the console and crossed his arms, grinning.
She grinned back at him, eyes intent, lazily scratching a figure eight into the Tardis floor with one slow fingernail. She waggled her hips. “Just the way we like them,” she said throatily.
The Doctor stood up very straight.
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