Follows this.

Where she needed to be. Whatever that meant, it couldn't have been good, the Doctor supposed. Still, he didn't have any intention to move her out of the TARDIS, even when his instincts were telling him---

Well, they weren't telling him she was evil really. Just that she had a lot of secrets, and a lot of them involved him. He wasn't sure if---

Suddenly, the TARDIS shook violently as she made a rather unpleasant sounding landing. He gripped the console as she settled.

"What was that about, eh?" he asked, looking up at her. "Where've you taken us? Some sort of temporal disturbance, brought us down. That's odd."
Title: Allejundra Maximos
OR Five Digs The Doctor Ruined For River Song, What She Did About It, And How Sonic Screwdrivers Were Involved
Part: Three
Fandom: Doctor Who / Harry Potter Series
Characters / Pairing: Tenth Doctor, River Song, cast of Harry Potter
Rating/Warnings: PG
Wordcount: 1,702
Summary: Adventures at Hogwarts!
Author's Notes: Written for the lovely [ profile] kingcreevey for the winning bid at [ profile] help_haiti. More parts will be forthcoming! Sorry for the long delay!
Part One. Part Two.


I'm sorry my love.

The Doctor was struggling to understand what, exactly, made Colin Creevey so important. )
"You're following me."

"What? What? No, no, I wouldn't---"

"Really, sweetie, all you have to do is say hello."

There's an implication in the way she says hello, and the Doctor has a feeling it is very similar to the implications that hang in the way Jack Harkness says hello. Which the Doctor wouldn't do in this situation, really. Or…any situation, actually!

"No, no," he says. "No, I was just shopping."

"Shopping," she says, unconvinced.

He holds up the small basket he's filled with various items he's picked up around the market.

"Didn't know you liked Venusian caviar," she says, smirking.

He looks into the basket. Venusian caviar, marmite, a strange loaf of bread, and stockings. He really should've paid more attention to what he was picking up. Because, well, yes, he was following her.

River Song. Although she promised him the last time they spoke that she would be part of his future, he hasn't seen her since she sacrificed herself in the Library. He's considered looking up on her, but her credentials at the archeological institute appear to have been forged, and she simply doesn't exist, except to the Doctor on one strange day months prior.

Then, as fate would have it, he saw her here. Shopping for groceries, like some ordinary person instead of a strange enigma plaguing his memory. Curiosity, being what it is, compelled him to follow.

He snatches up a milk carton, which is something he might actually buy. He gives her a Look, as if to say See, I am buying things. I'm not just here for you.

"You're just here for me, Doctor," she says, crossing her arms.

"What? Don't be so---" He stops. "Doctor," he repeats. Right, she knows him. Is there a point on the timeline where she doesn't know him. He'd like to feel on the same level as her at some point. "That's time travel for you. At least I never have to worry about proper introductions where you're concerned."

"So, stop following me around and just say you're sorry," she says.

"Sorry?" he asks, with a confused blink. "For what?"

"Oh, I'm not falling for that again," she snaps, sticking a finger in his face. "You know very well what I'm talking about."

"Honestly, I don't," he says, taking half a step back. This was a bad idea. He shouldn't have started following her, but he was so curious. This place seems so ordinary in comparison to her, and he's only seen her in the middle of disaster. Who is she when she's just shopping?

She sighs. "You're dripping."


"The milk."

He looks down to the carton in his hand. While every other perishable in this small market in 6577 is wrapped in a climate-controlled force field to keep the food fresher and the landfills smaller, milk has always been packed in a paper carton. A paper carton which the Doctor is gripping hard enough to tear. Milk is dripping down the side of his arm, thick and white and sweet-smelling in the eternally stale market.

"Nervous about something?" she asks, amused.

He looks at first embarrassed, and then irritated. He's normally quite good at meeting people. As someone who never stays in one place, it's sort of par for the course. So why is it this one woman manages to terrify him?

"Nervous? I'm not---" He awkwardly shoves the milk back on the shelf. The dripping carton smacks sloppily into the force field-covered eggs and the liquid shorts out the mechanisms holding them together. The eggs, suddenly freed from their confines, begin tumbling to the floor. Hundreds of large, brown Frostro Bird eggs from New New Ohio crash in big, yellow blobs to the ground.

The Doctor leaps back, just avoiding slipping by jumping towards her. She takes a surprised step back and knocks into a display of hair products. The force fields snap off without warning, and a waterfall of shampoo and hair gel pours out from the shelves. The liquid flows down the asile, shutting off shelf after shelf of food and drink. Other, unsuspecting shoppers step into the asile and slip, landing in undignified heaps in disgusting slicks of food and hair product.

The shelf of crisps and frozen chips suddenly fall apart, and a hail of tiny salty potato-pieces tumble down, landing in shoppers' hair and on other mechanisms, quickly adding them to the shorted-out list.

There's a scream on the other end of the market, and the Doctor winces as he watches a display of bottled tea suddenly dissolve into its contents and fall onto a Draconian woman with a loud splash.

The Doctor turns to River, who has caught onto his sleeve in order to keep from losing her balance and falling into a puddle of hairspray. They're the only two still on their feet, he realizes, in a small, clean circle situated in the center of the destruction.

Without warning, she laughs. "Can't take you anywhere, can I?" She reaches up and picks a piece of egg yolk from his hair. "Nowhere normal, anyway."

He shakes his head. "But why would you?"

River opens her mouth to say something, probably something particularly sassy (as, he's discovered, is her way), when she slips a little on some of the milk and sways, about to fall backwards. He reaches out an arm and wraps it around her waist, keeping her balanced. She steadies herself with her hands against his chest and---goodness, when did they end up so close?

He finds himself, not for the first time in her presence, speechless.

She takes in a breath that sounds shaky and (dare he think it?) uncertain. "Doctor, I---"

There's a crash, and the front door of the market slides open to reveal two Zygon pirates, armed to the teeth. Well, armed to the extratubular vents, at least.

"Thissssss is a robbery---" hisses the first as he steps inside. His bony foot steps on a stray Alzarian banana and he slips, falling ungracefully onto the slick market floor. The second Zygon tries to step back and lands face first into a display of pistachio pudding.

River looks over to the fallen robbers, then back to the Doctor with a wide grin.

"Well, you certainly make things interesting."

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 1,050
Title: Allejundra Maximos
OR Five Digs The Doctor Ruined For River Song, What She Did About It, And How Sonic Screwdrivers Were Involved
Part: Two
Fandom: Doctor Who / Harry Potter Series
Characters / Pairing: Tenth Doctor, River Song, cast of Harry Potter
Rating/Warnings: PG
Wordcount: 2,317
Summary: Adventures at Hogwarts!
Author's Notes: Written for the lovely [ profile] kingcreevey for the winning bid at [ profile] help_haiti. More parts will be forthcoming!
Part One.


It's never over.

Although his boasting and ego may have stated otherwise, there were, in fact, many places in the universe the Doctor had never traveled to… )
Title: Allejundra Maximos
OR Five Digs The Doctor Ruined For River Song, What She Did About It, And How Sonic Screwdrivers Were Involved
Part: 1/? (Prologue)
Fandom: Doctor Who / Harry Potter Series
Characters / Pairing: Tenth Doctor, River Song, cast of Harry Potter
Rating/Warnings: PG
Wordcount: 2,158
Summary: Adventures at Hogwarts!
Author's Notes: Written for the lovely [ profile] kingcreevey for the winning bid at [ profile] help_haiti. More parts will be forthcoming!


Don't forget me.

It started, as most things often do, with an idea. )

Red, yellow, green, red, blue blue blue
Red, purple, green, yellow, orange, red red
Red, yellow, green, red, blue blue blue
Red, purple, green, yellow, orange, red red

Blend them up and what do you get?
Ceries, chartous, and aqua
Mauve, beige, and ultra marine, and every colour in between
Hazo ka li ka no cha lum bum

Companion to this amazing story.

Oh, little prince! Bit by bit I came to understand the secrets of your sad little life . . . For a long time you had found your only entertainment in the quiet pleasure of looking at the sunset. I learned that new detail on the morning of the fourth day, when you said to me:
"I am very fond of sunsets. Come, let us go look at a sunset now."
"One day," you said to me, "I saw the sunset forty-four times!"
And a little later you added:
"You know--one loves the sunset, when one is so sad . . ."
"Were you so sad, then?" I asked, "on the day of the forty-four sunsets?"
But the little prince made no reply. ~ The Little Prince

River is 23.

The Doctor is not.

He’s reached the very old point in his life, the point where he no longer truly remembers how old he is and he really doesn’t care to remember. After all, what good comes from remembering one’s age?

To River, in all of her youth, she sees him as some sort of impossible statue of time. He could tell her he was 78 and she’d gape in awe. She’s of the opinion at this point in her life, however, that she is terribly wise and confounding. She is always confounding, but she’s not wise, not yet.

She will be, one day.

He stands at the door to the TARDIS, watching her reaction with eager eyes. He’s always taken her places after she met the TARDIS, never knowing when the first time was. She would never tell him, she would say it was ‘too personal’, or some other excuse that went along with her confounding nature.

The first time in the TARDIS is always special. Even now, to River, whom he has known for years (although she has not known him nearly so long). He thinks about the first time Ian and Barbara walked through those doors, believing it all to be an illusion. Or the first time Leela proclaimed it magic, or when Martha announced it was all bigger on the inside.

They’re all gone, now.

It has been lifetimes since he’s had a companion on board, but it has also only been days. Everything is happening and has happened at once and, in a way, he can see all of them on River’s face, now. The way she sees everything for the first time, as they did, once.

It takes him a moment before he realizes that she’s spoken. "It’s beautiful," she says.



"She’s beautiful," he says. He presses his hand to the coral of one of her columns. "Bit of a small word for her anyway, really. But close enough."

River grins, and he’s certain for a moment that she’ll begin some sort of a verbal spar with him. In his loneliest, saddest days, she always makes sure the sparring is vicious, mean-tempered, and hard. She knows it will bring him up.

But River is too young, now. She doesn’t know it, yet. She drops the subject, believing the TARDIS something not to be argued over. She does tease, which feels good. It feels normal, the way it does when they’re both on the same timeline. It’s far less frequent, lately. She’s constantly behind him and he’s struggling to make sure he doesn’t spoil her.

She grins at the TARDIS, and the whole room seems to light up with her smile. It never ages, even when she does; that smile. It’s like a thousand lights bursting at once or a billion stars swirling around a galaxy or a thousand sunsets. It’s radiant. So radiant, it makes him think terribly romantic thoughts, which is never a good thing, for him.

"All right," he proclaims, now full of romantic desire. "Off we go!"

She demands where, something she doesn’t realize will be a frequent demand of hers in the future. He doesn’t reply, something she doesn’t realize will be a frequent response to her demand in the future.

He is engaged. Preparing for departure, departing, already gone, there, next place, all of them, hasn’t even arrived to pick up River yet. Everything is happening right now, and she doesn’t realize it yet.

She will.


Forty-four sunsets. He read it somewhere, he's certain, but he can't remember where. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 2,126
"We'll be late," the Doctor called through the bedroom door. He gave it a rap and got a disgruntled grunt of affirmation in reply.

River Song was not one who often spent time dressing up. More often than not, the Doctor would arrive on her world for a visit and find her still in the dusty clothes she'd been at the architectural dig in, leaning over some artifact and incorrectly guessing what it was. He often said it was "endearing", if a little dirty.

But tonight, no, tonight was a special night. Tonight, River emerged from the bedroom in a floor-length dark red opera dress with her hair piled on the top of her head.

"Are you sure this counts as an anniversary?" she asked. She stepped forward and straightened the tie on his new suit.

On the best of days, the Doctor was not a romantic. On the worst of days he would wax on about how very much he hated the idea of domesticity and with romance came the domestics. But sometimes, on very special occasions, he would do something like this.

"Well, we're hardly on the same timeline, are we?" he replied.

"That's never made you want to celebrate an anniversary before," she said, crossing her arms.

"And when was the last time I took you to dinner? Besides, you'll love it. Berrillum food is unlike any other world. Slices of light cut into pasta and sprinkled with Vercasian sugars." He smiled widely and, as it often did whenever he visited while he was older, it didn't quite reach his eyes.

River nodded, and then passed him to put a note on the plate of hot tea and lemon biscuits she'd left for her usual Saturday visitor. Jenny, the Doctor's daughter, had visited often, occasionally making River's home her port of call. The Doctor hadn't mustered up the courage to speak to her. Not yet. But he would. River would convince him, someday, and they'd be a proper family, him and Jenny.

Out with your Dad for dinner. It's our anniversary, apparently. I'll bring you something back from Berillium. -R She placed the note delicately next to the ceramic teapot and picked up her handbag and journal before heading towards the TARDIS.

"If our anniversary only comes when I finish a journal," she said, "Then it's not quite our anniversary. I've got a page left."

"You can put tonight into it," he said. For a moment, the Doctor looked unbelievably sad. Sadder than she'd ever seen him. "Dinner and the Singing Towers. It'll be perfect."

"Perfect?" she asked, curious but not wanting to pry. "Willing to bet your life on that?"

He smiled then, small and tight. "Always."

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 451
River Song is 23.

The Doctor is 1,984.

They are a study in imbalance.

Like two teetering towers, standing up only by the pressure of leaning against each other, they function but they do not meet completely. And, if they were to meet perfectly, then they would fall over. Because that is what imbalanced towers do.

He thinks about the singing towers at Berillium and their unique leaned pattern. He's seen them in tourist handbooks and on viewscreens and in the distance during a few of his adventures, though he never sets a course there. He knows he doesn't have to, he will one day (has long ago since) go there and the beauty the towers promise doesn't change the fact that he will (already does) dread that day.

Today, he is on Agathorn, in the common sector. He is six hours, twenty-eight minutes, and thirty-five seconds late for River Song's graduation from the Valential Academy of Archeology and Time Travel Sciences. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 1,707
Special thanks to [ profile] everybody_lives for the voice beta and inspiration!


Dropped by your flat, you weren't in. Can't stay too long today, so I've left you this postcard. It's actually not really a postcard, but a postcard-sized inking made specifically for me from this bloke named George. Now, George was very nearly eaten by FreeroFreeros, which are very unpleasant piranha-like aliens who dwell in sand instead of water. Seeing as I saved him, he was more than happy to spend a few hours inking this. It's quite nice, I think.

I've been spending a lot of time in the Dark Ages, lately. As you know, I like traveling places that aren't very well documented. Everything seems new and exciting and yeah, well, I know how it all turns out, but it's still fun in its own right. And lucky I was here, too. FreeroFreeros. Of all the things!

Still, couldn't let them ruin the festival of lights. Once a year, all of the streets in this town are lined with candles, creating daytime in the middle of the night. It's beautiful, River. Put a note down in your diary that we'll need to go there. A photograph---even a very detailed holograph---can't quite capture it.

You can find light from the shadows anywhere, even in the Dark Ages.

I'll be back soon,

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 200
The Doctor couldn't sleep. It wasn't that he didn't want to, but it was far too early to sleep. A few days too soon to sleep, in fact. But River's cottage had a wonderful view and he could lose a good deal of time simply looking out the window.

It was, perhaps, a sign of his old age. He now could look out the window and sit in one place in quiet contemplation.

He could stop moving. Stop thinking. Just remember. Remember what it was like when he was younger. Like the Master. Previous companions. The end of the universe. Ah, the fun things to remember.

He never let himself think about these things when he was younger. Or maybe it was just being around River. Her home made him feel calm.
At least he's in good company hating this situation.

He loves it best when he and River are running away from some sort of danger or other, and River's smile is second-widest when she's running with him, as well (widest, of course, when she's proving him wrong about something). He doesn't like the sedentary stuff, the stuff where they have to do the paperwork, read up on the history, or, as in River's case, prepare the presentations.

This is a presentation before a wide variety of historians, archeological supervisors, and scientists. She's doing it on something and something or other in the 24th century, he pretends he really cares, but she's got her history wrong and correcting her would just irritate her. Basically, it's a way of showing what she's done so that someone out there will help her pay for doing more of it.

It's not necessary, he tells her. He can do a little time manipulation and fund every project she'd ever want for the rest of her life, if she desired it. But, no, of course not.

"This is my career," she says.

"I know," he replies, though he's more than a little confused and he's not pretending that he's not.

'Am I not allowed to have a career?' she snaps. 'A career that's mine? I don't want your influence, not on this.' )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 2,826
Special thanks to [ profile] youwillobey for the muse-inspiring suggestion!
Also, this would not have been possible without the immense assistance of [ profile] savagestime! Thank you!
There are so many possibilities.

So many choices.

So many regrets.

He wonders what would've happened if he'd stayed back on Messaline for a few more hours. Or if he'd agreed with River when she asked him to come with her the first time they went on a date. If he'd had a proper romance in a proper world with a timeline that was all linear and straight.

Well, he reminds himself that a straight line may be the shortest distance between two points but it is by no means the most interesting. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 1,967

Special thanks to [ profile] everybody_lives and [ profile] morethananecho for reading and especially for their brilliant ideas. This follows Jenny's storyline archived here. Jenny at the circus is an upcoming storyline of hers!
Based on the ongoing tales of [ profile] morethananecho, following this story.

Her neighbors must think she runs a lot for stolen spaceships at the rate she's going. Not ten minutes after the stolen RMN-42 shuttle blasts off her back patio, a stolen Type 40 materializes in its place.

"Could at least give me time to clear away the dishes first," she mutters, piling the china teacups onto a tray.

But it's not as if she's really irritated to see him. Irritated at him? Well, that's pretty much a constant.

He steps from the blue box and he smiles. It's a tired-looking smile, but it's all him just the same. She remembers the first time she met him, him with the white in his sideburns and dark bags under his eyes. He's not quite there yet, she can tell. Certainly far from early days for him, but not quite that old. His sideburns only have wisps of gray and the darkness in his eyes hasn't taken over, not just yet.

She wonders what happens to him in between those times, what takes him from the lonely old man he is now and makes him into the sad and tired man he is when she first meets him.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small diary covered in Egyptian hieroglyphs. She picked it out for him, like he picked out the blue one she has nestled in her handbag.

"Summer of the Seven Hills," he says.

"Oooh, you're a bit behind me, then," she says, smiling. "Just like you, showing up late."

He sticks his thumb in the direction of his ship behind him. "I could always leave and come back, if you want."

"No, seems like too much work. And besides, you'll just track more mud in."

He looks down at his feet and makes a face that's somewhere between 'oh, you noticed that' and 'sorry'. She sighs and moves the cold teapot to the tray.

'You just missed her,' she says. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 1,880
[ profile] everybody_lives, [ profile] morethananecho, and [ profile] notsomerrywidow used/referenced with permission.

At the beach.

Really, the Doctor should've been less irritated with the entire situation. After all, he was in his favorite pair of swim shorts (the one with the bananas on them), wearing a new pair of sunglasses and his favorite tie. After all, he wasn't fully dressed without his suit jacket.

Aaaaaand he had his family around him. Cut for general crack and spoilers to 4.09 'Forest of the Dead'. You know. Ish. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 689
Based on various cracky!RP in [ profile] sixwordstories with (here we go)
[ profile] times_student
[ profile] galeforcehero
[ profile] perfect_shoes
[ profile] runs_with_him
[ profile] everybody_lives
And bunches of awesome Jennys!
rude_not_ginger: (=[)
( Jun. 9th, 2008 11:41 pm)

My wives.

I vaguely remember being a bachelor a month ago. Now I have two wives and ten a daughters. IT WAS A LOOMING ERROR! And Mickey, so it's very like having a puppy, too.

OOC: LOL, [ profile] runs_with_him's mun made the image and I died.
"Everything passes. Nobody gets anything for keeps. And that's how we've got to live." Haruki Murakami.

They begin things at the end. Cut for spoilers to 4.09 'The Forest of the Dead'. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 4,390


rude_not_ginger: (Default)
The Doctor


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