“Suits, Doctor, other suits.” She knew all about his supply of clothes. Formal attire suited him like never-ending death, but he looked handsome. And he chose the black tie restaurant.
“Close your eyes.” She tapped the side of her nose. “Count aloud to thirteen.” He wouldn’t. “When you’re done with nonsense, we’ll be where I’m routing her (more like before they arrived on Darillium-already cheating), and you won’t have to spoil my attempt at surprising you with a destination.” Though, she could argue that half the time he had no idea where they were headed either. Tomato tomato.
“Wear something you like getting dirty.” She laughed fully and truly. “Not formal wear, my love. Go on,” She ushered, “I’ll still be here when you get back.”
“Other suits?” He questioned, his brow raised. “What’s WRONG with this one?” he asked. A lot of the time the Doctor had a general idea of what River was thinking, and other times, he really did not. This was one of those times.
The Doctor sighed as he wandered down one of the TARDIS’ many staircases, and went to find some clothes. When he came back, the Doctor looked like he was dressing his age, as he came out in a cardigan-dress shirt combo, with a scarf. It was evident that the Doctor dressed a little but more c o n s e r v a t i v e l y then River did sometimes.
“Is this good enough for this, ADVENTURE?”
