FIC: And So The Tarnished Silver Shines
and so the tarnished silver shines
doctor who; doctor/river, pg
‘Hello, sweetie.’ He’d said and laughed, and she’d smiled back. ‘Hello,’ she had said, ‘Have we met?’
notes: This is A Good Man Goes To War compliant, insofar that is does not reference the events of that episode
To say she lives for the days she sees him would be wrong. She’s only met him once, you see. He'd been a melancholy sort of man, the spring in his step dampened by the weight of a hundred worlds on his shoulders. ‘Hello, sweetie.’ He’d said and laughed, and she’d smiled back. ‘Hello,’ she had said, ‘Have we met?’
His brow had furrowed, and she’d wondered if he was a little slow, the effort he put into that one simple question. Of course, this is not the case at all, but she was not to understand that yet, and so we shall forgive her. His smile faded, too, though it lingered a little longer at the outskirts of his mouth. ‘You..’ he’d bitten the word back, tried again, ‘River..it’s..I’m the Doctor.’
Of course, she’s heard of the Doctor, everyone has here in the Gamma forest, but she’d always imagined him a wise old man, possibly bespectacled and definitely with a beard. He’s younger than she expected, though not better dressed. Her eyes had narrowed, ‘How do you know my name?’
(It is now he realises: this is how she must have felt. It’s harder too, so much harder than he imagined. He’ll never tell you this, but you should know, it’s in this moment that his heart finally, truly breaks.)
Her exams are over now, at last. Finally an archaeologist, and not an amateur either, River Song steps out into the bright sunshine. In the shade of a sycamore tree stands a blue police box - not familiar yet, but soon to be. She recognises it; it’s a hard thing to forget, after all. ‘Doctor?’ she says, tentative, into the air.
‘Ahh!’ The man raises an arm to shield himself from the light, ‘there you are. I was beginning to wonder where you’d got to’
Hitching her skirt, she joins him on the grass. It’s damp underfoot, and she wishes she hadn’t taken her shoes off. The exam room had been so hot, though, and they were pinching her toes. ‘How did you know I’d be here?’
A beat. His smile is easy. ‘You told me that I came here today,’ he grins, ‘So, voila.’ When he squints through the sun at her, he’ll see she’s grown, cut her hair shorter. She’s thinner too, the baby fat gone, her features more sharply defined, though a man like the Doctor would think that’s just the light.
‘Doctor,’ She crosses the lawn, hops slightly when a stone catches between her toes, ‘the last time you saw me,’ Her voice dips lower, she’s not quite sure if this is the best time, but she needs to know, ‘You seemed sad, as though something was ending. But you said something, just before you left. You said I’d watch us run, you and me, time and space.’
‘Did I? Good to know.’
She stands taller, frowns. If such a thing was possible, her hair’s gotten curlier of late. Maybe it’s the heat. ‘What do you mean, Doctor? What did you mean?’ He frustrates her, and he knows it. He sees it as some form of payback, though, obviously, she is not to know this. She’s not ready, he’s decided. He has no right to decide, she’d think, if she knew.
‘Spoilers.’
‘Why do you keep saying that? Who are you, Doctor? What are you?’
‘You’ll find out soon enough.’
Her eyes narrow into slits, he’s got her riled now, and if he’s not careful he’ll have to face the consequences. He ought to know better, really. ‘I want to find out now, Doctor. Tell me!’
‘I can’t.’ His resolve has weakened somewhat, she can tell. She’ll wait to pounce though. It’s too early, she thinks.
‘Says who?’
His smile is wide, and he flicks her on the nose. ‘Says you.’
They sit at the bottom of the steps, the high temple looming above them, as the Doctor explains their relationship. Her ice cream’s melting in the Trojan heat, sticky liquid trickling over her fingers. She brings her hand to her lips, slurping it off.
‘So,’ she says, lips ringed with vanilla ice cream, ‘the first time I met you, was the last time you saw me?’
‘Yes, and vice versa.’
‘I see.’ She says, except she doesn’t. She will, soon enough, but not yet.
‘Here,’ he says, ‘I want you to have this. Help us keep track of where we are.’ It’s a book, and one she will come to know well over the years. Her hand runs over the blue card, and she grins.
‘Is this bigger on the inside, too?’
His eyebrow cocks, slightly, and the corners of his mouth rise into a smirk. Leaning forward, he catches her lips with his. It’s chaste (as well it should be, she’s young and he’s old and these things get complicated very very quickly, you’ll find) but there’s a passion behind it all the same. When she pulls back, her grin’s wide. ‘Well, well’ she says, and laughs.
‘Do you miss me?’ He asks one day. ‘When I’m gone, I mean.’
She swallows. It’s beginning to drizzle, the rain on this planet is acid, and it stings her face. ‘No.’ She says, far too quickly. ‘I still have a life to live.’ It’s true: through all this, she does not miss him. Not yet. She has adventures and he has adventures and sometimes, on very special days, they have adventures together. ‘Do you miss me?’
‘Sometimes.’ He smiles into the middle distance. Then, ‘if you ever need me, just call. I’ll always come.’
It’s a reassurance she didn’t know she needed. ‘I know.’ Her voice is quiet, all of a sudden, as though someone’s knocked the wind right out of her. ‘The same goes for you, too.’
(The interesting thing is this: it’s a reassurance he didn’t know he needed, either.)
Of course, you already know the ending of this story, so there is little point repeating it here. But remember this: the end, really, is just the beginning and there will come a time where it would be wrong to say he lives for the days he sees her.
This is not that time.
end.
doctor who; doctor/river, pg
‘Hello, sweetie.’ He’d said and laughed, and she’d smiled back. ‘Hello,’ she had said, ‘Have we met?’
notes: This is A Good Man Goes To War compliant, insofar that is does not reference the events of that episode
To say she lives for the days she sees him would be wrong. She’s only met him once, you see. He'd been a melancholy sort of man, the spring in his step dampened by the weight of a hundred worlds on his shoulders. ‘Hello, sweetie.’ He’d said and laughed, and she’d smiled back. ‘Hello,’ she had said, ‘Have we met?’
His brow had furrowed, and she’d wondered if he was a little slow, the effort he put into that one simple question. Of course, this is not the case at all, but she was not to understand that yet, and so we shall forgive her. His smile faded, too, though it lingered a little longer at the outskirts of his mouth. ‘You..’ he’d bitten the word back, tried again, ‘River..it’s..I’m the Doctor.’
Of course, she’s heard of the Doctor, everyone has here in the Gamma forest, but she’d always imagined him a wise old man, possibly bespectacled and definitely with a beard. He’s younger than she expected, though not better dressed. Her eyes had narrowed, ‘How do you know my name?’
(It is now he realises: this is how she must have felt. It’s harder too, so much harder than he imagined. He’ll never tell you this, but you should know, it’s in this moment that his heart finally, truly breaks.)
Her exams are over now, at last. Finally an archaeologist, and not an amateur either, River Song steps out into the bright sunshine. In the shade of a sycamore tree stands a blue police box - not familiar yet, but soon to be. She recognises it; it’s a hard thing to forget, after all. ‘Doctor?’ she says, tentative, into the air.
‘Ahh!’ The man raises an arm to shield himself from the light, ‘there you are. I was beginning to wonder where you’d got to’
Hitching her skirt, she joins him on the grass. It’s damp underfoot, and she wishes she hadn’t taken her shoes off. The exam room had been so hot, though, and they were pinching her toes. ‘How did you know I’d be here?’
A beat. His smile is easy. ‘You told me that I came here today,’ he grins, ‘So, voila.’ When he squints through the sun at her, he’ll see she’s grown, cut her hair shorter. She’s thinner too, the baby fat gone, her features more sharply defined, though a man like the Doctor would think that’s just the light.
‘Doctor,’ She crosses the lawn, hops slightly when a stone catches between her toes, ‘the last time you saw me,’ Her voice dips lower, she’s not quite sure if this is the best time, but she needs to know, ‘You seemed sad, as though something was ending. But you said something, just before you left. You said I’d watch us run, you and me, time and space.’
‘Did I? Good to know.’
She stands taller, frowns. If such a thing was possible, her hair’s gotten curlier of late. Maybe it’s the heat. ‘What do you mean, Doctor? What did you mean?’ He frustrates her, and he knows it. He sees it as some form of payback, though, obviously, she is not to know this. She’s not ready, he’s decided. He has no right to decide, she’d think, if she knew.
‘Spoilers.’
‘Why do you keep saying that? Who are you, Doctor? What are you?’
‘You’ll find out soon enough.’
Her eyes narrow into slits, he’s got her riled now, and if he’s not careful he’ll have to face the consequences. He ought to know better, really. ‘I want to find out now, Doctor. Tell me!’
‘I can’t.’ His resolve has weakened somewhat, she can tell. She’ll wait to pounce though. It’s too early, she thinks.
‘Says who?’
His smile is wide, and he flicks her on the nose. ‘Says you.’
They sit at the bottom of the steps, the high temple looming above them, as the Doctor explains their relationship. Her ice cream’s melting in the Trojan heat, sticky liquid trickling over her fingers. She brings her hand to her lips, slurping it off.
‘So,’ she says, lips ringed with vanilla ice cream, ‘the first time I met you, was the last time you saw me?’
‘Yes, and vice versa.’
‘I see.’ She says, except she doesn’t. She will, soon enough, but not yet.
‘Here,’ he says, ‘I want you to have this. Help us keep track of where we are.’ It’s a book, and one she will come to know well over the years. Her hand runs over the blue card, and she grins.
‘Is this bigger on the inside, too?’
His eyebrow cocks, slightly, and the corners of his mouth rise into a smirk. Leaning forward, he catches her lips with his. It’s chaste (as well it should be, she’s young and he’s old and these things get complicated very very quickly, you’ll find) but there’s a passion behind it all the same. When she pulls back, her grin’s wide. ‘Well, well’ she says, and laughs.
‘Do you miss me?’ He asks one day. ‘When I’m gone, I mean.’
She swallows. It’s beginning to drizzle, the rain on this planet is acid, and it stings her face. ‘No.’ She says, far too quickly. ‘I still have a life to live.’ It’s true: through all this, she does not miss him. Not yet. She has adventures and he has adventures and sometimes, on very special days, they have adventures together. ‘Do you miss me?’
‘Sometimes.’ He smiles into the middle distance. Then, ‘if you ever need me, just call. I’ll always come.’
It’s a reassurance she didn’t know she needed. ‘I know.’ Her voice is quiet, all of a sudden, as though someone’s knocked the wind right out of her. ‘The same goes for you, too.’
(The interesting thing is this: it’s a reassurance he didn’t know he needed, either.)
Of course, you already know the ending of this story, so there is little point repeating it here. But remember this: the end, really, is just the beginning and there will come a time where it would be wrong to say he lives for the days he sees her.
This is not that time.
end.