A little thing I wrote for Sam. Happy birthday, love, and thank you again for everything you always do for me. *hugs*
Alex wakes up slowly, feeling perfectly well under the warmth of her covers. She can hear the rain outside, hitting the blinds at a regular, soft and soothing rhythm. She wants nothing but to stay in bed all day, and she might; fortunately she doesn’t have anything planned today. It’s a rare free day she’ll try to make the most of.
She moans, a smile on her lips as she stretches in delight. Except something feels wrong as she does, and she opens her eyes briefly, blinking a few times as she looks around her.
She’s alone in her bed. Where another warm body should have been, still sleepy and ready for cuddling (and more, she hoped) there’s nothing but an empty space. She feels an incredible sadness settles into her at the thought, and suddenly the day doesn’t seem so perfect. It’s been a great night, everything has been fine and she thought that it would be more than just a night, maybe not a lifetime engagement either but the beginning of something…
And then her eyes catch something, and all her doubts disappear. She raises on her elbow to have a better view, and there’s no mistake. On the floor is laying a sock, bright pink and green that is definitely not hers. The other sock is nowhere to be seen, but there are clothes scattered all around her bedroom, and there’s no way he would have left totally naked from her place.
The smile is back on her face, and she doesn’t want to know if he’s in the bathroom for a shower or watching yesterday’s football match on her telly, he’s spent the night and is still here this morning and this is all that matters. Maybe they’ll spend the day together and she doesn’t care about anything else.
She’s closing her eyes, falling back on her pillow when it strikes her; the smell of something burning. As she frowns, she can distinctly hear a curse and she sighs, rolling her eyes at him even if he’s not seeing her. She hopes it’s not too serious. Knowing him, she’s sure he could blow up the entire building just by tripping on his own feet, but it’s absolutely not a thing she’s willing to witness. It takes her all her courage to get up and out of bed, throwing a robe around herself before leaving the room.
The smell is stronger in the corridor, and there’s no mistake that something is really burning in here. She rolls her eyes again as she walks faster, hoping it’s not too late and that he hasn’t burnt the whole flat yet. But there’s only a bit of smoke coming from the kitchen, and he’s still alive if she believe the flood of cursing coming to her ears. It’s good news, isn’t it? If it was more important he would be screaming and would have come to save her – or she hopes at least.
When she finally enters the kitchen, it takes her a few seconds to take in the whole scene. Her first glance tells her the fire has stopped, at least, and it’s enough for her to stop worrying. There are black ashes and smoke still hanging in the air, and they are now escaping by the open window. She can spot a pan in the sink (or what remains of it anyway) and if she believes the bowl of remaining dough not far away it must have been used to cook a pastry of some kind; it’s impossible to tell what it was now.
And in the middle of the kitchen is Matt, still cursing profusely, coughing and waving in a futile attempt to chase the smoke away, totally naked but for the ashes in his hair.
Alex can’t help it and she starts to laugh, the vision of him almost burning her flat without a single piece of clothes on him too much. She should be cross for the disaster, or worried that he burnt himself, but the only thing she seems to be able to do is laughing.
Matt turns at the sound, his cheeks immediately turning a bright red. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to…” he starts to apologise, “I was going to make pancakes and then, I don’t know, it just caught fire.”
“It’s okay,” she manages to say after wiping the tears caused both her laughter and the smoke. She coughs too, reaching out to take Matt’s hand and dragging him away before they both die choking.
“I’m really sorry,” he keeps apologise as she closes the door of the kitchen, “I’ll pay all the reparations, of course.”
“Don’t be silly, it was just a bit of smoke.”
“But I —”
She rolls her eyes at him, before grabbing his hips and pressing herself close to him, shushing him with a kiss. He responds almost instantly, sighing happily against her mouth and she can feel all his thoughts vanishing. Both his hands reach for her, cupping her cheeks as he deepens the kiss. She moans encouragingly, and nothing matters for the next seconds but their embrace.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers when they finally part, out of breath, “I wanted this morning to be perfect.”
“It is perfect.”
“I burnt our breakfast.”
“I’m not hungry,” she replies, running her tongue upon her lips. “Well, not for that kind of breakfast anyway.”
It takes him a second to understand, but then she pecks him before sinking on her knees, and she thinks the realisation showing on his face totally makes up for the fire he set in her kitchen.
“Oh, I think I’m gonna love you making breakfast.”
Her only reply is a wink but he doesn’t seem to mind.
#dude#when jaime ran to joffrey’s side#for the first time in the course of the show i felt like i was actually aware of the fact that#jaime is a father#jaime has children#jaime has three children#jaime is joffrey’s father and he’s watching him die and he’s trying to save him and cersei won’t let him#this moment when jaime runs to joffrey’s side before anyone else can reach him#just reminded me of when cersei talked about how nobody could keep jaime out of her chambers when she was in albor#how he was at her bedside for every minute while she gave birth to their children#and i mean wow joffrey was a terrible evil sadistic little shit#and cersei and jaime are certainly fucked up and twisted#but my heart broke for them right there#they’re parents#and they’re watching their child die and they can’t do anything to help him (via)
A thousand years time? You won’t remember me.
Yes I will. I promise. I will.
think about what your dog would say to you if he knew how much you hated yourself
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing: River/Doctor (Twelve)
Characters: River, Twelve, Clara, OC
Chapter word count: ~2300
Warnings: graphic depictions of violence (see part one)
Previous chapters: I / II / III / IV / V / VI / VII / VIII / IX / X / XI / XII / XIII / XIV
The tension drains from his shoulders when he finds her, sitting on the floor, legs dangling out the open TARDIS doors. He stays silent, watching her from the shadows of the hallway for a moment before turning around, fixing them both a cup of tea.
She hasn’t moved when he returns, settling next to her, proffering a cuppa.
River Song looking at the Doctor.
(A companion piece of the Doctor looking at River can be found here.)