Right person, wrong time (River/11)
The Doctor opens the TARDIS door and peers around him expectantly before frowning. How strange. He appears to be inside a very ordinary block of flats. He steps outside and looks around more closely. He sniffs the air. Earth. No. Not Earth. Something that was trying to simulate Earth but not quite.
He can’t hear anything in particular. There’s a buzz of conversation that he can hear coming from further down the hall but no shouts of distress or screams for help. He wanders up to the nearest door, peering closely at the small intercom before pressing the button.
He’s not quite sure what or who he expects to answer the door. But what he certainly isn’t expecting to see is a slightly grumpy looking River Song.
“River?”
“You’re late,” she announces, one hand on her hip as she stands in front of him in the doorway.
“Late?” he repeats indignantly, staring at her in amazement, “What do you mean, late?”
She rolls her eyes and turns to head back inside, clearly expecting him to follow. “You said you’d be here half an hour ago.”
“Did I?” he mumbles to himself as he steps inside, closing the door behind him. He follows her curiously as she wanders back into a small living room with a cosy kitchenette at the far end. It’s certainly not Stormcage. It feels like an Earth colony from around the 50thcentury, the tech on display is evidence enough of that. However, there are also books and texts scattered around the living room. There’s also some piles of clean laundry and a stray pair of River’s heels in the corner. There’s some artwork on the walls and a few pictures on one of the shelves.
In fact, the whole place has an almost studenty feel to it which really doesn’t make much sense at all. His gaze returns to River and he finally takes in what she’s wearing. Not the particularly revealing pair of figure-hugging shorts, which his mind certainly clocks and plans to return to contemplating very soon. No, what draws his attention now is the baggy, sweatshirt that comes almost down to the hem of said rather-short shorts. The one that says ‘Luna University’ in big red letters across the front.
“You’re a student!” he blurts out as River frowns at him, “Here! On Luna!”
“Of course I am,” she looks as confused as he feels, “Where else would I be?”
“And you live here!” he gestures wildly around him.
“Yes, you helped me move in here from those awful undergrad digs, remember,” she frowns at him as he turns back to look at her, “Why are you acting so strangely all of a sudden?” she asks, looking more closely at him, “Did you eat one of those weird peach things again?”
“Peach, what? No!” he gapes at her as he desperately tries to process what’s happening.
A look of realisation dawns on her face before turning, rather terrifyingly, to one of glee. “Oh! You’re not late. You’re young!”
He splutters at that. “No! I’m not young. You’re young!” And she is young. Now that he knows, he can see that she looks a few years younger than when he’d last seen her. He can’t quite tell exactly how old she is, he’s not brilliant at telling human ages after all, but she certainly doesn’t look like a young student to him.
Her eyes rake up and down him before returning to his face. “Do you even know who I am yet?”
“Of course I do,” he lies as she lifts one eyebrow in surprise, “You’re River Song. Chief purveyor of trouble in half the universe.”
River lets out what could only be described as a squeal of delight. “Oh my god, you don’t know yet!”
“Well, how do you know who I am?” he retorts with a huff.
“It doesn’t work like that,” she scoffs with a toss of her head, “I’ve always known who you are,” he opens his mouth to protest but she simply fixes him with an absolutely wicked look and shakes her head, “Sorry, Doctor, spoilers!”
He glares at her but she simply leans forward and grins at him, her eyes wide with excitement. “I’ve never seen you this young before. And I have been waiting so long to say that to you!”
He can’t think of anything to say to that so he settles for shooting a final glare at her and then turning away to leaf idly through some of the books on the table.
“Why are you here anyway?” River asks curiously, watching as he drops a large archaeology textbook back down with a look of disgust.
The Doctor shrugs. “Dunno. Wasn’t aiming for here,” he picks up a scroll of parchment and brings it up to his face, sniffing it tentatively, “Amy and Rory are on their honeymoon. Thought I’d pop over to the waterfalls on Epsilon IV. Ended up here instead.”
She moves over and plucks the scroll of parchment out of his hands before he can subtly lick it. “Oh,” she turns around to put the scroll out of his reach, “So you didn’t mean to come here?”
He still doesn’t know River that well but he can tell that she’s trying to sound casual and unconcerned. It doesn’t fool him though and the tension in the set of her shoulders is a giveaway even though he can’t see her face. He hesitates for a moment. There’s a part of him that’s longing to run back to the safety of the TARDIS. Away from this terrifyingly young River Song and the way she looks at him.
However, there’s a note of uncertainty in her voice that he’s never heard from her before and it’s that that makes him pluck up his courage and ask her. “You said I was late? Late for what?”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she says dismissively, too quickly almost, “Just a drinks thing in the archaeology department.”
“What kind of drinks thing?” he presses, watching her as she fidgets with a glass on the counter and avoids his gaze.
She shakes her head. “It’s just this drinks reception for new doctoral students and their, umm, their partners,” she says, rushing over the last bit very quickly, her eyes darting up to his to gauge his reaction and then away again, “But, it’s fine,” she continues breezily, “We can do something else. Or you can go if you want. Or-“
River trails off, her feigned nonchalance undermined as she still fidgets with the glass in front of her. He takes a deep breath and straightens his jacket lapels.
“You’re trying to steer me away from a party, River Song!” he exclaims, “I never thought I’d see the day!”
“Are you sure?” she looks up at him and if he wasn’t convinced before then the grateful look she shoots at him now is certainly enough to reassure him.
He claps his hands enthusiastically. “Of course! Lead the way!” he falters suddenly, his eyes falling to the rather scandalously short hem of her shorts, “Are you- are you going to go like that?” he asks, his voice coming out an octave or so higher than he had anticipated.
“Why? What’s wrong with this?” she asks, her face a picture of innocence but for the smirk playing around her lips.
He gulps and gestures vaguely at her legs. “Maybe something a bit less- I mean, more. Definitely more fabric.”
“Ooh, so strict for one so young!” she outright smirks at him before turning around and wandering across the room into where he assumes is her bedroom. If the extra sway in her hips accentuates her arse in those shorts then he definitely definitely doesn’t pay particular attention to it as she leaves the room.
Several hours later they are in one of the quieter bars on Luna, away from the student crowds. River had indeed changed outfit and is now wearing a rather fetching dark red cocktail dress. They are sat side by side at the bar, perched on high stools. A future version of him has clearly been here before as the barman handed him a menu for the milkshakes instead of the cocktail menu as soon as they sat down. So, here he is, sat enjoying a triple chocolate milkshake while a very young River sips her gin martini and brushes her knee against his from time to time.
The archaeology drinks party had been- Well, he still hesitates to use the word fun where archaeology is involved although he’s rapidly coming to the realisation that anything involving River Song could probably be fun. He glances covertly at her over the top of his milkshake. She’s humming along absent-mindedly to song that’s playing in the background. He recognises it as an old 20th century jazz song.
This younger River Song is definitely different to the one he knows. He’s only met her a couple of times in this body; the adventure in the Byzantium and then all that business with the Pandorica and the universe collapsing and restarting. She’s still the same flirty, confident, charming woman he knows but there’s an openness, he hesitates to call it a vulnerability, about her this young that he hasn’t seen before.
He’s suddenly gripped by a feeling of regret and self-loathing that it wasn’t the version of him she knows that showed up today. That she had to make do with an early version that barely knows her instead.
“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, as River turns towards him questioningly, “I’m sorry I’m not your- that I’m not the right person, the right me, the one that-, that knows you.”
She stares at him for a moment, gazing at his face searchingly before a soft smile curls her lips. “You’re always the right person, Doctor,” she says and he feels a warmth blooming through his chest at her words, “Even if your timing’s a bit off occasionally,” she adds with a grin as she leans in to steal a sip of his milkshake.
He feigns a gasp of outrage and swipes the glass back from her but, as they sit and gently bicker about the best flavour milkshake, the thought crosses his mind that maybe his timing isn’t actually that bad after all.
