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The TARDIS landed in The Pond's backyard, doubtlessly on top of some plant thing he'd get yelled at for crushing in the near future. Well, there was nothing for it now. He left his time machine parked where it was and opened the glass slide door on the side of the house.
He smiled when he entered the Pond’s sitting room.
River sat on her parent's couch reading something, a pen tapping against her knee.
"What're you doing?" he asked.
She didn't even look up at him. "Grading papers," she answered.
He sat down next to her on the couch and she leaned into his side. "Any good?" he inquired, reaching an arm around her to steal her pen.
Her eyes flickered to him in annoyance. "They're passable. Give that back."
"What's the subject? And no."
"The Algerianos. You know, I know 50 ways to kill you with that pen."
"Now those were some people who knew how to throw a party. Not seeing why I should give it back then." He put his hand behind his back and when he returned it to her line of vision, the pen was gone.
She made an agitated noise. “Doctor.”
“River.”
She leaned forward and put her papers down on the table in front of her before lunging at him, pushing him down onto the couch. “Give it back.”
“Nope.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the nose.
Her eyes narrowed, and she poked him in the sides. “Now.”
He sighed. “So demanding. I already gave it back.”
She blinked down at him and he nodded to the side of her head. She reached up and found the pen stuck behind her ear. “How do you do that?” she asked.
“Magic,” he replied. She snorted and, despite having her pen back now, she didn’t seem very interested in going back to her work. Instead, she laid her head against his chest and curled her arms around his middle. He hummed, rubbing her back softly and kissing the top of her head a few times.
"You know, you're a bad influence on me," he mumbled into her hair.
She chuckled a bit. "What did you do?"
"You," he replied. "On the washing machine."
She puffed out an amused breath. “Did you just come from there?”
“I’ve never seen Pond quite so horrified.” She hummed in agreement and he felt her draw a few shapes on his arm. After a few minutes, she suddenly stopped and shifted around to look at him with narrowed eyes.
“You knew,” she accused. He tried to put on an innocent face, but it was no use. She knew him too well. He got hit in the face with one of the Pond’s couch pillows. “Dirty old man.”
“In my defense,” he said. “You instigated it.” She rolled her eyes.
“You knew my mother would walk in on us.”
“Well I didn’t know it would be your mother,” he said.
She held the pillow over his face this time. “That’s worse.” He batted it away.
“I had to keep the timelines in order.”
“You could’ve just made out with me.”
“What’s the fun in that.”
“Dirty old man,” she repeated.
“Well you’d already taken off your clothes...” Done with him, apparently, she reapplied the pillow to his face and leaned her own head on it this time, closing her eyes. He mumbled something through the pillow.
“Shhh... I’m sleeping now.” He mumbled louder, and she sighed, removing the pillow. “What do you want?”
He spat a bit of fuzz out of his mouth. “I could make it up to you,” he suggested with an eyebrow wiggle.
She raised one of her eyebrows in return. “And how exactly are you planning on doing that?” She asked.
He wiggled one of his arms out from under her and softly ran his fingers down her check and neck to her shoulder. “Doctor I’m not 70 anymore.” But she didn’t make any move to remove his hand as it slid down a bit more. “Weren’t you the one who said, ‘we have not nor will we ever have sex on your parents couch.’”
“I didn’t say that. Who said that? Sounds like a very uncool person.”
She laughed. “And you’re a cool person?”
“Don’t say that like it’s a question Song,” he said.
“Or what?” He sat up suddenly, pushing her into a sitting position, and she gave a pleased laugh.
“How long are your parents going to be gone,” he asked kissing down her neck.
She hummed glancing over at a clock. “We should have a good 45 minutes.” He was already working her shirt off her shoulders.
“I can work with 45 minutes.”
If 53 minutes later their clothes were a bit rumpled and their breath was still a bit short, Amy and Rory didn’t notice. Or, at least, they were far enough down their timeline to pretend they didn’t notice.