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“So, you’re planning on running for reelection, then?” River asked.
“Becoming the first non-binary mayor in Kasterborous City history was…ugly,” Ashildr allowed. “But now I’m the incumbent, shown I can handle the job. Shouldn’t be too much trouble.”
“I admire your confidence, and your work with the refugee community.” Among other things, River thought to herself. “But surely you didn’t have to invite me to a four-star restaurant just to help shore up the university’s support for you.” She laid her hand on the table, conspicuously unoccupied.
“No, I didn’t,” Ashildr agreed, placing their hand on top of River’s. “I pride myself on running an ethical campaign, so let’s not mix business and pleasure.”
“I agree entirely,” River smiled. It was nice to know where one stood, and really, it would have been a bit insulting to suggest her professional integrity could be bought with a nice dinner out. Or her personal affections, for that matter, but at least this was a nice down payment. “Speaking of mixing business and pleasure,” she muttered as a squad of mercenaries stomped into the restaurant, blocking the exits and windows. She didn’t have her usual equipment with her, but she at least had her emergency pager, and she quickly pressed the button, signaling the TARDIS as to her location and distress.
“Everyone on the ground, face down,” the apparent leader of the jackbooted thugs announced. River took them in at a glance - masks, body armor, automatic weapons, grenades of some kind. Smoke? Flashbang? Or something more deadly? Now wasn’t the time to risk her life for a second glance, she decided, and got down on the parquet. Help would arrive soon, she reminded herself.
“Valuables in the bags,” the leader continued. “Don’t bother dialing 9-1-1, I already am. We’re holding you all for ransom. Just stay calm, and you get to live, and we all get paid.”
“Stay close to me,” River whispered to Ashildr. “I’ll do my best to protect you.”
“Awfully noble for a first date,” Ashildr whispered back. “There something more I should know about you, Dr. Song?”
“You’d be surprised what a dean of faculty gets up to,” River murmured as two of the toughs approached them, one covering them with his rifle, the other manning the bag.
“What the hell is this?” the bagman asked, seeing her emergency pager. Damn, River thought as he jerked her up to her feet. “Come on.”
She had just made it to the center of the restaurant, where the leader stood, when all of the lights went out. “Finally,” she breathed, and brought her elbow up into the mercenary’s nose in the split second before his eyes adjusted. That left him off-balance long enough to flip forward over her shoulder, knocking the wind out of him. She scrambled for his dropped pistol and cold-cocked him before scurrying under a table.
“Hi,” said Clara, joining her under the tablecloth. Or a Clara, River supposed, hearing a faint susurrus of similar sounds all around the restaurant. “Can’t talk, let’s get you to safety.” River knew something of the extent of Clara’s powers, knew it was hard for her to project as many of herself as she was doing now. Wondered if every would-be hostage had a pair of dark eyes flit down appreciatively as River tugged off her heels so she could run in her bare feet. “Now,” Clara whispered again, and River filed that last thought away for later as if on cue, something exploded in the kitchen. She caught half a glimpse of Ashildr, running with another Clara and two more hostages, low to the ground. Then - there - the Doctor, green glint from his sonic screwdriver standing out in the darkness. The mercenaries turned to fire on him - clearly they knew he would be trouble - but one after the other, the firing pins on their grenades dropped out and the room immediately began to fill with choking black smoke.
“Night vision goggles are on the fritz!” One thug yelled. “Can’t see a damn thing!”
“Keep your head on straight,” another voice cautioned him - recognizably the leader. “We’re not beat yet. Let’s just grab the loot and get out of here.”
“Good luck with that,” Clara muttered as her dozen echoes merged back into her main body. “Police have this place surrounded, and more of us are on the way even now. Okay, everyone, keep your heads down and follow me.” The Doctor brought up the rear of their little caravan as they beat a tactical retreat out of the restaurant. “That’s everyone,” she reported.
“Everyone alright?” the Doctor asked.
A generic chorus of ‘yes’ greeted him but didn’t drown out Ashildr’s bitter “ruined a perfectly good date.”
“We’ll make it up to you,” the Doctor replied, mostly sarcastically.
“You will?” Ashildr and River echoed, surprised and intrigued.
“We will?” Clara asked. “I mean, I’m not opposed if you’re not. I just figured we’d finish saving the day before we started flirting.”
“Just when I thought my reelection campaign wasn’t going to be as controversial this time around,” Ashildr muttered, then took a look at the three people who were all proposing to date them. “Worth it,” they decided as Clara and the Doctor headed back inside the restaurant. They sighed, and turned to River. “I am sorry dinner got interrupted,” they apologized.
“That’s alright,” River said, smiling. “Seems we’ve already got a raincheck lined up.” Then, quietly. “I hope you don’t mind dating three superheroes.”
“Three?” Ashildr’s eyes widened. “Knew it,” they concluded proudly.