Chapter Text
River Song pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration, willing herself to concentrate on the page in front of her. Marking essays has never been her favourite part of being a professor, but she’s never had trouble carrying out that task - until now. Pushing her glasses up again, she closes her eyes and tries to rid her head of thoughts, but the steady pounding in her head makes it even harder to concentrate.
Holding her red pen tighter and determined to finish marking at least one essay before going to bed, she pushes her blonde curls out of her eyes and sighs again, starting over.
She almost gets to the end of the first paragraph before she loses focus - not her fault, this time.
The smoke alarm from one of the apartments below her starts sounding, and she growls her frustration. God, she can’t catch a break. Praying that the idiot whose smoke alarm is beeping disables it quickly, she flops back in her chair, the dull ringing still shrill in her ears.
Her head already pounding, she lets out a louder, more sinister growl and glares out the open window, hoping the mere intensity of her stare will let her neighbour know how close she is to snapping.
But it doesn’t, of course, and River slams the window shut, scaring the birds that had been perched on top. The shrill ringing continues on, though the sound is significantly muffled. River collapses on her chair, staring balefully at the stack of essays she has no will or desire to mark. But if she doesn’t get it done now, she won’t have her precious day off tomorrow - and that would just turn her already foul mood worse.
Straightening her back and taking a sip of her favourite tea, she picks up her red pen again and starts to read. But her concentration lasts all of five seconds, because the moment her eyes settle on the page, she swears the blasted alarm grows louder somehow.
Standing up so harshly that she feels the chair slide back and collide with the wall behind her, she ties her hair back and decides that she’ll do her neighbour a small favour and disable the bloody thing for them. And if her fingers slip and somehow dismantles the entire thing - well, one can only assume it was an accident.
Slipping an extra bobby pin into her pocket, she exits her flat and trudges downstairs towards the shrill ringing. Glancing around and wondering how the people in the idiot’s immediate vicinity can stand the maddening sound for so long, she creeps towards the door that seems to be hiding the source of the noise.
She pulls the bobby pin out of her pocket and inserts it carefully into the keyhole, fiddling with it expertly until she hears a satisfying click and the door unlocks. Making sure to be as silent as possible, she swings the door open and carefully steps into the apartment. She’d been expecting a dark, deserted house but to her surprise, the flat is bright, twinkling lights lining the room.
Raising her eyebrows in mild amusement and assuming that the owner had simply forgotten to turn the lights off, River continues her way through the living room and into the hallway, where the smoke alarm is still beeping incessantly.
Finding a stool already sitting in the corner directly below where the alarm is placed, River grins at her luck and steps on it, determined to smash the darn thing into dust with her bare hands.
She huffs a stray curl out of her face and gets to work, examining the device thoroughly. In any other circumstance, she probably would have realised that she was being watched. But in her concentration and glee at the entire situation, she doesn’t notice the pair of brown eyes following her around curiously.
“What are you doing?” an unfamiliar voice asks from behind her.
River doesn’t jump in surprise but she does tense up, and she turns slowly, still on the stool, to face the person. She’s greeted by an oddly-dressed woman, her brown eyes not afraid but still cautious. She wears a blue shirt with a rainbow on her chest, tucked into trousers that are held up by rainbow braces. River finds it strikingly odd that anyone would dress such a way while in their own house, but she doesn’t say anything about it.
Instead, she raises an eyebrow at the woman. “I’m disabling your smoke alarm,” she says curtly, turning and pointedly pressing a button on the side. The silence that fills her ears afterwards is a blessing. “Since you are clearly incapable of doing so yourself.”
“I could’ve done that myself!” the woman says defensively.
“And yet, here I am.”
“How did you get in?” the woman asks instead, and River takes note of her accent - Northern, she thinks.
“I picked the lock,” River answers simply.
The woman frowns. “That’s incredibly rude.”
“So is the infuriating beeping coming from your smoke alarm,” River says, stepping down from the stool and approaching the woman. “Some people have work to do and your little device is keeping them from doing it.”
A little red creeps up the woman’s neck and ears as River watches in satisfaction, crossing her arms.
“Sorry,” the woman mutters sheepishly. “I was testing a prototype on it.”
“Prototype?” River repeats, frowning in thought. “Hang on, are you the inventor? Amy told me you’d be moving in next week.”
“Well, I’m here early!” she says, spreading her arms and presenting herself. “You know what they say - the early riser gets the most biscuits.”
“That is definitely not the saying,” River says, her lips twitching slightly. “And I’m not entirely sure that’s how leases work.”
“Neither am I. That’s why I’m here early,” she says, before adding as an afterthought, “Well, that and my last landlord kicked me out after my eighth explosion nearly killed her cat. Tetchy woman.”
Something dings in another room and her eyes light up excitedly. “Biscuits! Would you like some? I’m not a baker, but I make pretty decent ones.”
River, thoroughly intrigued by the eccentric owner of the apartment, follows her into the kitchen. She watches as the woman places the biscuits carefully onto a plate and offers it out to her.
“I broke into your apartment and now you’re offering me biscuits,” River states, staring down at the treat, not sure whether or not to accept. “I’m not entirely sure this is how most trespassing cases go.”
The woman shrugs. “Always happy to meet new people. Even if they are intent on destroying my smoke alarm.”
River doesn’t even blink at the - albeit true - accusation. She takes a biscuit off the plate and gingerly takes a bite, deciding that the woman might be an inventor but she does not have the skills required of a baker. Either that or she has an incredibly sweet tooth.
“But you’re - ” River coughs and swallows the biscuit forcefully down her throat, making a mental note to throw the remainder of it out her window when she gets back home. “You’re the Doctor, aren’t you? The famous inventor.”
The woman’s eyes light up even brighter this time and she sounds extremely surprised and flattered when she says, “You’ve heard of me?”
River snorts. “It’s hard not to when your students are using those damn inventions of yours to cause a ruckus in class.”
“Oh,” the Doctor says, blushing again. “Yes, well, I’m working on something that’s actually useful this time. Wanna see?”
And before River can even open her mouth to answer, the Doctor takes her hand and pulls her out of the kitchen, leading her past the smoke alarm and into one of the rooms. She tries to protest, but the Doctor pushes the door open and the words die on her lips.
It almost feels like she’s entered an entirely different universe. The room looks like a lab, a lair and a bedroom all at once - there is a wall full of every tool imaginable. Past inventions, both half-finished and perfected line the shelves; the windows have been boarded up by a chalkboard filled with untidy scribbles of complex equations; there is a tiny makeshift bed right under it, where she suspects the Doctor spends most of her nights.
“Welcome to my TARDIS,” the Doctor says proudly.
“TARDIS?” River repeats.
“Treacherous And Rambunctious Development In Side.”
River blinks. “But ‘inside’ is one word.”
The Doctor frowns as though she hadn’t realised. “So it is. But it sounds better. Anyway, here’s what I’m working on.”
She swipes something off the centre of the shelves and hands it to River carefully, who examines the weirdly-shaped instrument in hand. She turns it over and the corners of her mouth start twitching upwards as she compares it with another device she has at home - shaped just like this one, and the tip even has a little blue light on.
“So your latest invention is… a vibrator.” River states unflinchingly.
The Doctor blanches and squeaks in surprise, her face turning red. “I - a vib - that’s not what it is!”
River, who has been watching the Doctor stammer and blush in amusement, blinks innocently. “It’s not? But the shape and the tip -”
“It’s a screwdriver !” The Doctor says, taking the prototype back from River, apparently offended by her remark. She frowns down at it, as though she hadn’t noticed the similarity before. “A sonic screwdriver. That’s what I’m calling it.”
“Well, it certainly looks like it’s meant to screw something, sweetie, I’m just not sure it’s what you intended.” River smirks as the Doctor’s blush deepens but she tries to hide it. Bless.
“It’s not,” the Doctor says, attempting not to fidget awkwardly.
“Well, what is it supposed to do, then?” River asks expectantly after a moment, when the Doctor doesn’t continue.
“Oh, yes! Right.” The Doctor snaps into action, twirling the device in her hands and smiling at River. “Wait till you see this.”
The Doctor gives a happy laugh and takes River’s hand, leading her to a corner of the room in an almost giddy fashion. River lets a small smile escape past her lips at the other woman’s display of almost childlike excitement. There’s just something so very endearing about it all.
The Doctor makes a dramatic motion with her sonic screwdriver, waving it above her head in a rainbow gesture and pointing it in an outstretched hand at the door. She seems to be concentrating hard, her forehead beading in sweat as she frowns, and after a few seconds - right when River is about to make a witty retort - the lock clicks and the door moves just slightly, leaving it ajar.
River raises her eyebrows in surprise as the Doctor turns to look at her, obviously tremendously pleased with herself. River frowns and tilts her head at the door, as if trying to piece together a difficult riddle.
“So… your sonic dildo-” River smirks as the Doctor turns bright red and starts sputtering incoherently, “-unlocks doors?”
“It’s a screwdriver, ” the Doctor emphasises to her, but it just makes River’s smirk widen. “And it responds to all my thoughts. Well, almost all my thoughts.” The Doctor adds afterwards, and River gives her a questioning look. “Umm - how do I explain this? So, because the lock is just a mechanism and only requires a force to turn it, it’s able to do that. And for example, with the light -” she indicates the light bulbs dangling from the ceiling, illuminating the room, “-because it’s just one source of energy, which is -”
“Light energy, yes.” River interrupts, watching and listening in apparent fascination.
The Doctor’s cheeks turn slightly pink. “Right. Well, the sonic is able to do that fairly easily, as well.” She makes the dramatic motion again and points the instrument at one of the light bulbs above them as River watches, a smile tugging at her lips. The light distinguishes after a few moments, and River looks mildly impressed as the Doctor turns to face her.
“But the smoke alarm -?” River asks.
“Emits both light and sound energy. Two different energies to displace - I reckon the sonic isn’t ready for it yet.” She frowns down at the sonic screwdriver, her nose scrunching up adorably in thought. “I’ll have to make a few adjustments here and there.”
River appreciates intelligence. Especially in strangely-dressed, quirky blonde women who are inventors. Well, the Doctor might be a special case.
She’s always assumed that the Doctor was a man. Everyone had talked about him - her - like she was some kind of god, a prodigy in her field. Now, it seems so very ridiculous that the Doctor would be anything but a woman. It seems fitting, somehow, to picture this brilliant, intelligent inventor hard at work.
And to experience her genius firsthand - that was entirely something else. River feels so drawn to all of her inventions - the products of that wonderful mind sitting in the Doctor’s pretty head. And not just her work - the place itself, her prototypes, the chalkboard full of equations - just her in general.
Oh, yes. River certainly appreciates intelligence in all women - but one woman in particular stands out among the rest.
“So the screwdriver,” River begins, and she has to fight back a smile when the Doctor lights up at her use of the proper name for the tool, “it responds to anyone that’s holding it?”
“No, not exactly,” the Doctor says sheepishly. She sets the sonic down on her workshop table. “Right now I’ve only been able to get it to link telepathically with me. So it’ll respond to my thoughts, but not anyone else’s.”
“Ah,” River says, slightly disappointed. Perhaps the Doctor realises, because she quickly tries to reassure.
“I-I’ve been trying to get people to test it on, actually. I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to get it to work soon, but unfortunately I’m low on test subjects at the moment,” she says, her cheeks turning pink as she scratches her head awkwardly. “Zero, actually. Had to let them all go when I left Sheffield and moved here. They were all very nice about it.”
“So… without them, you won’t be able to know for sure if the sonic screwdriver works with anyone else?” River clarifies, and the Doctor nods.
“Know anyone willing to risk their lives at the hands of a mad inventor?” she asks, only half joking.
River blinks. “I’ll do it,” she says.
The Doctor laughs. “You’re a funny one.”
When River merely raises her eyebrows at her, the Doctor’s laugh starts to fade.
“Wait, you’re being serious?”
River shrugs. “Why not?” she says. She turned to inspect more prototypes lining the shelves before facing the Doctor again, barely concealing her smirk. “I’ve got room on my shelf for one more vibrator.”
The Doctor coughs again, her cheeks reddening for the third time in just a few minutes. Her eyes shift down for just a fraction of a second, but River catches the disappointment written plainly in her eyes before she looks up again and all trace of it disappears. River feels just a hint of something tugging at her heart at the loss of that bright smile.
“Well, what’s your price?” the Doctor asks.
“Price?” River repeats.
“Yeah. For being my test subject. I can afford it now that most of my inventions have been marketed, so you can quote any price -”
“Oh sweetie, you could never afford me,” River says lowly, her voice laced with suggestion that makes the Doctor bite back a fond smile. “But I’m doing fine for myself. Consider it a compromise.”
“Compromise? What kind of compromise?” the Doctor asks, eyebrows raised in mild apprehension.
“Stop testing your prototype on your smoke alarm while I’m marking my papers,” River proposes, settling herself down on the swivel chair without invitation, “and I’ll become one of your test subjects.”
“Friends. I prefer to call them friends.” the Doctor corrects hurriedly, tucking her blonde hair behind her ear.
River nods, biting back a smile. “Friends, then.”
The Doctor gives her a bright smile and she returns it rather easily, surprised at how quickly she’s bonded with her. River isn’t usually very easy to befriend - she’s only had two friends her entire life. Amy, who owns the building and who River had grown up with - and by extension, Rory, Amy’s husband. She hadn’t ever felt the need to be friendly, but the Doctor seems to bring that quality out in her.
How very interesting.
“Would you like to stay for a cup of tea?” the Doctor asks politely, a hint of hope in her eyes as she rocks back and forth on the balls of her feet. “I’ve got English breakfast and chamomile.”
River tilts her head at the Doctor as if considering her options, but when she replies she doesn’t actually answer the question.
“You know, I don’t actually know your name,” River says, leaning back in her chair and looking up at the Doctor.
“Uhh - it’s Jane,” the Doctor supplies immediately, a soft smile on her face. “Jane Smith.”
River scrunches her nose in distaste. “I prefer the Doctor.”
“Why?” she asks, mildly offended.
River smiles at her. “‘Jane Smith’ is entirely too common a name for someone like you.”
The Doctor beams at that. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Good. That’s what I meant it as.” River smiles.
“I didn’t catch your name, either,” the Doctor asks subtly, her eyes enquiring.
“River Song.”
The Doctor smiles at that, turning away. River frowns in confusion.
“What?” River asks.
“River Song,” the Doctor repeats, as if testing the words on her tongue. “It suits you very well - unique and - and, well, beautiful,” the Doctor blushes slightly again, and River’s amused smile turns soft at the sight of her sincerity. “Your name is brilliant.”
“Thank you,” River says softly, not quite sure how to react to that.
“We should get dinner,” the Doctor says, her words rushed and forced as if willing herself to say them before she loses the nerve. “Er - together,” she adds.
“Dinner?” River repeats.
“Yes. Um - well, only if you want to. I mean, it’s the least I can do since I distracted you from your marking and you very graciously volunteered to be my friend,” the Doctor says. Her words start unsure and hopeful, but she grows more confident as she goes on, when River doesn’t seem disgusted by the idea.
“All right,” River agrees easily. “Tomorrow?”
“Oh, um - I was thinking more - now?” the Doctor asks, still hopeful.
“Sweetie, I have papers to mark. But tomorrow’s my day off,” River adds, at the look of disappointment on the Doctor’s face. “And I owe you a meal too, for breaking into your apartment. Lunch, then?”
The Doctor’s face lightens up instantly at River’s implication of spending the entire day together. She nods eagerly in agreement, and River smiles warmly up at her before getting up from the chair.
As she turns to leave the room, the Doctor calls out, “River!”
She turns, finding the Doctor smiling shyly at her. The sight is quite endearing, actually. “So - tomorrow. It’s a date, yeah?”
River nods, smiling. “It’s a date.”
The Doctor gives her another delighted grin and River is just about to turn and leave the room when she springs into action.
“I’ll walk you to the door!” the Doctor says, and before River can protest, she’s taking her hand gently and leading them towards the front of the flat.
“It was lovely meeting you,” River says, stepping out of the apartment.
“It was very nice meeting you, too.” The Doctor smiles, before hanging back awkwardly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
“Yes. Tomorrow,” River confirms again. “Well, goodnight then.”
River leans forward and presses her lips tenderly to the Doctor’s cheek. She smells like an odd combination of metal, butter and sugar - something River never thought she’d smell. It isn’t quite as bad as it sounds. Very pleasant, really.
She pushes away and gives the Doctor a bright smile before turning and disappearing down the corridor. The Doctor is still standing there, stunned, with a hand still lightly touching her cheek. She gulps nervously and lets out a small breath.
A beautiful woman had just broken into her flat and kissed her cheek. And she’d just asked that same beautiful woman out on a date and - and she’d agreed. She’d even insisted on having lunch before that - two dates. In one day.
Her heart still fluttering in her chest at the feel of River’s soft lips on her skin, she shuts the door and turns towards her empty apartment.
A huge smile forms on her face.
“Brilliant.”