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The Doctor is alone. He has been alone for at least a year by his time. After dropping the Pond’s back off home, he’d flown away in his ship, all alone. He’d been on many adventures since then.
And he’d done so alone.
Or so he thought.
The day has begun as ordinarily as a day for the Doctor could get with lots of running and being chased, and solving wars with jammy dodgers, and bouncy balls, and, well.
By the time he returned to his TARDIS, he was entirely exhausted (even by his standards), but he didn’t stop until he’d piloted his ship away from the latest planet to safety, and only then did he finally collapse into the nearest seat with a dramatic sigh.
For a few beats he simply slouched there, eyes closed, arms limp by his sides, and contemplating catching twenty winks. The universe would probably be fine without him for a mo.
When all of a sudden, out of the blue…
“Cuppa?”
The Doctor startled right up out of his seat, hearts racing a mile a minute, and whirled round with his screwdriver outstretched to fhe sudden intruder in his TARDIS.
There was some speech or another waiting on the tip of his tongue about making a very big mistake coming into his TARDIS, and it took embarrassingly long for him to realise who he was staring at. And when he did, the intruder’s voice registered within him.
“River?” He questioned, slowly lowering his screwdriver.
His curly-haired friend/lover/wife (it’s complicated) hummed and slinked (because apparently that was a thing that could actually happen) her way down the stairs to the console where the leaned her hip on it.
“Wha- how did you- when did you get here?” The Doctor demanded. He hurried over to the console too and crossed his arms.
“Oh, I’d say about a month ago. Give or take,” River flippantly answered. “So, about that cuppa-“
“A month!” The Doctor cut in with disbelief. “You can’t have been here a month without me noticing! It’s impossible. AndI’m very good at noticing things, I’d have known if you were here a month.”
He absolutely would’ve known.
River only chuckled.
“Sweetie, you’ve had a rubber duck in your pocket for a century and you still haven’t noticed,” she said then stalked off, calling back, “sugar?”
Frowning at her retreating form, the Doctor quickly began checking his pockets, grumbling about rubber ducks and River bloody Song stowing away on his TARDIS like she owned the place (the TARDIS being her mother, she probably owned it more than he did these days).
To his dismay, River was right. He did have a rubber duck in his pocket. He stared dolefully at the yellow toy, wondering when she’d managed to plant it there, before tossing it over his shoulder and chasing after her in demand of some answers.
And also make sure she put the right amount of sugar in his tea. He was only Time Lord, after all.