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She’d done it before; she’d had to slap him during filming of ‘The Impossible Astronaut’, but although she knew she liked him then, they hadn’t been together at the time. Now they have been with each other; secretly shagging and helplessly falling in love, for a little over a year and she has read, yet again, the directions informing her that she’ll need to slap him, again.
“Just do it,” Matt tells her as they discuss the scene involving the slap, lying in bed; full to the brim with Chinese take away and completely satiated from each other’s loving touches and caresses and muttered wishes and promises.
“But I don’t want to hurt you,” she counters, bringing a soft hand to cup his check tenderly as she gazes into his deep hazel eyes.
“It’s fine,” he assures her, placing his hand over hers, “I know you don’t mean it, it’s only acting...”
“I don’t just mean your emotions, darling,” she pecks him on the lips, “I mean you. I remember the red mark my hand left behind, and how much you flinched as I struck you last time. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“It’s just once...”
“It wasn’t last time; we had five takes of that scene,” she reminds him, “What if we have to do more? I can’t hit you once let alone five times.”
“Well, how about I spank you afterwards when we get home?” he suggests cheekily, “Will that help?”
She giggles and nuzzles her nose into his neck. “It might do...”
“There we are then, problem solved...”
“No! No it’s not. I still have to slap you.”
“It’ll be fine, Alex, don’t worry about it,” he drops a kiss to the end of her nose, “Let’s get some sleep before our long day tomorrow.”
They arrive on set early. Alex didn’t sleep well knowing what she had to do today. And she also knows that she can’t make too much of a fuss about not wanting to hurt him as people may suspect things. She’d had no qualms about it before; until the red hand print started blooming across his cheek, so it would be strange if she acted differently this time.
The morning’s filming goes well. The make-up department do a fantastic job with making her wrist appear broken and aging her a little more. And she thoroughly enjoys the reactions she gets from all the men (especially Matt) when she finally emerges from wardrobe in her sleek black dress and corset; emphasising her cleavage so that it really could fell an ox.
But then the scene comes when they are sitting on the stairs together; talking, as River and the Doctor, about the pain, but at totally different ends of the stick. Matt, as the Doctor, takes her hand in his as he says his lines.
“It must hurt.”
She winces in pretend pain. “Yes,” she nods, “The wrist is pretty bad too.”
He looks at her but she keeps her face turned away, unwilling for him to see the pain in her eyes.
She thinks in that moment, as he pretends to heal her with regeneration energy, about how she is going to hurt him in the next shot. She doesn’t want to. Why does she have to actually slap him? It does make it realistic, but then how much more realistic could you get?
She forgets her lines, too busy involved in her own thoughts to concentrate and they have to run the scene again. On the third time, she gets it right and her heart clenches when the director calls ‘cut’. The next scene they are shooting follows straight after the one they have just done. It’s the scene she has been dreading since she read it.
Make-up fix her hand and wrist to look ‘good as new’ as the Doctor would have now fixed it; against her will, subsequently making her angry. She thinks of all the times she and Matt have argued, he may frustrate her sometimes but she’s never had the urge to slap him.
She sits back on the step next to Matt, ready for the next shot and takes deep breaths. “You can do it,” Matt murmurs encouragingly from beside her, and beams.
The director calls action and the first take begins.
Matt takes her hand again, “there you go,” and kisses it, “how’s that?”
She glares at him and takes a long breath in. “Well...” she bends her wrist and moves her fingers, as if testing how well it had been fixed. “Let’s see shall we?” She moves her hand up fast and notices Matt isn’t looking directly at her; she supposes he thinks it might help if he’s not looking at her; but it doesn’t. Just as fast as her hand had been moving in preparation, it suddenly stops as her heart leaps and a lump comes to her throat. She really can’t hit him.
“And cut!”
“Alex,” Matt hisses at her.
“I’m sorry...”
He grabs her wrist, asking the director for five minutes and drags her out into the corridor.
“Don’t be sorry, Alex, just slap me,” he growls, shoving her up against the wall.
“I can’t,” she pleads.
“Yes, you can. You’ve done it before; you can do it again,” he argues, “And if you just do it, first time, properly... then you won’t have to do it again.”
“Oh yeah, like they ever use just one take,” she fires back.
“I think they will on this scene Alex, they’ll want to do it as few times as possible...”
“Then can’t we just not do it at all?” She whines.
“It’ll look great with the scene, Alex, you know that. And with the Doctor and River’s relationship; it...it shows so much that has happened between them,” he enthuses waving his hands as he speaks and Alex sighs.
“I really don’t want to slap you.”
“You are not supposed to; River is,” he reasons.
“I know,” she cries, “I tried, I was River, but then just before our skin came into contact I became me again and I just...I couldn’t...”
“Do I have to make you want to hit me then?”
“No!” She shakes her head in defiance, “I will never want to hit you, darling.”
He just stares at her.
“What?”
He stands completely still and just stares. He could almost be contemplating her, but his eyes have a cheeky glint in them that she notices just before...
“Matt,” she squeals as his hand snakes out and pokes her in the side.
“Hit me, Alex,” he urges, and pokes her again, with both hands.
“No, Matt, what are you...”
“Slap me, Alex. Slap me.”
“No.” She tries to fight him off gently as his attack continues.
“You know you want to.”
“I don’t.”
“You will.”
“I won’t.”
He pokes and tickles her, punctuated by the odd word, trying to provoke her into hitting him.
“Just hit me...”
“No.”
“Kick me...”
“What? No.”
“Bite me?”
She huffs but doesn’t retaliate.
“Now you’re just being silly,” she frowns.
“Alright fine,” he doesn’t stop his attack, “I’ll withhold sex.”
She snorts. “There is no way you would do that, just to get me to slap you.”
“I would too,” he pouts, bopping her on the nose before sticking a finger in her ear.
“Matt,” she squirms away from him, “stop it.”
“Nope,” he shakes his head as his hand finds her other ear. “Not until you slap me.”
“What? Now?”
“Yes,” he pokes her in the ribs, “good to practice.”
She tries to catch her breath as she tells him again to ‘please stop’.
“I told you,” he sighs, exasperated, “fight back and I’ll stop.”
“I’m not fighting you, Matt,” she attempts to push his hands away but her hiccups are making it more difficult to breathe.
“Just think of all the nasty things I have ever said or done and hit me.”
“I wouldn’t hit you for anything you’ve said or done,” she shakes her head.
“Oh Alex, just slap me, will you?” He launches an all out attack of tickling and she crumples to the floor in a fit of giggles.
“Alright, alright,” she gasps, “I’ll slap you, just...let me go.”
He continues.
“Matt.”
“Slap me.”
She tries to push him away; she pulls at his sleeves and pushes at his hands and his shoulders; she smacks his hands lightly and he still won’t relent. Gasping for air she whacks him on the arm and he flinches away from her, looking wounded.
“Ow!”
She raises her eyebrows and gives him a look to say ‘you told me to’ as her breathing evens out.
“Brilliant,” a wide grin suddenly spreads across his face as he holds a hand out to help her up. “Now, just do that to my face, on camera, and you’ll be perfect.”
She rolls her eyes at him and follows him back on set.
“Are we ready for another take?” The director asks and they both nod, taking their places on the steps as before.
As Alex moves her wrist and wriggles her fingers again she considers that little part inside her that actually did want to slap Matt for his stupid behaviour out in the corridor, and for all the times he has said something hurtful; even if in cheek. She also realises that if she does get it right on the first go, that they would definitely only be doing one take. So she aims and she fires.
Her hand moves fast. “Let’s see shall we,” and she slaps him, sharp across the cheek. She knows she winces slightly as her hand makes contact but hopefully it won’t be noticeable; especially not with the way Matt is reacting.
She struggles to get through the rest of the scene without laughing at him as he straightens his jaw melodramatically, or wanting to cup his face in her hands and kiss him better. But she manages; every line is said correctly, with just enough hurt and poison in them to convince the director that another take is not necessary.
It’s the last scene for the day and they soon wrap and send the cast home.
“See,” Matt leans in close as they sneak into Alex’s trailer, “I’m fine. That wasn’t so bad was it?”
“Speak for yourself, darling,” she closes the door behind them and spins to inspect the damage she has done to his poor, beautiful face. “You reddened almost immediately,” she cups his cheek and strokes her thumb along his tender cheekbone.
“Alex, love,” he mimics her actions, pulling her towards him for a delicate kiss. “I am fine.”
“But...”
“Hey, stop it. It was written in the script,” he drops his hand to her shoulder and pulls her into a hug. “And you did it so well that once was all they needed; imagine if you had needed to slap me again...”
She pulls back to look him in the eye. “I would have refused.”
“Of course you would,” he sighs pulling her back into his warm embrace. “How about we have some tea and then get home to bed.”
“That sounds wonderful, darling,” she smiles up at him. “But I should find some ice for that...”
“No, you shouldn’t, Alex,” he takes her hands in his; focusing her attention, “Stop fussing. I am fine. And as you did slap me, I will not be withholding sex and I think, if I remember rightly,” he taps her on the nose which she crinkles adorably in response, “that also means I owe you a good spanking.” He winks.
Her eyes widen in delight as she grabs his hand and pulls him back toward the trailer door. “Let’s skip the tea.”