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Just another day in the life of the Ponds, stranded on an alien planet... It's not always a disaster.

They’d landed on the planet Caledonia, a surprisingly sunny place, considering it had been named after Scotland, but one with a nice heathery landscape, cliffs, rocky beaches, and brisk spring winds.

Amy and Rory had taken a walk, the Doctor assured them there were no aggressive natives or dangerous fauna. Going from his track record on that, Rory had looked at River and gotten a nod that this time he was right.

The Doctor and River had stayed behind to argue over how to repair the Tardis, which had landed them here by mistake, but fortuitously.

Amy and Rory strolled back a few hours later, considering that the obligatory sparks and fires and yelling would be over by now.

They climbed up the grassy knoll where the Tardis was parked to find River sitting in the grass. She didn’t see them at first. She was crooning a soft lullaby, and her hand was tracing the Doctor’s face.

The normally hyperactive Time Lord was asleep, his head on her lap. She sifted her fingers through his hair, brushing it away from his sweet, angular face. He looked impossibly young in slumber.

Rory shifted and accidentally stepped on a twig. He grimaced. Amy glared at him. He hadn’t meant to interrupt their idyll. River had such a tender look on her face. The Doctor looked so cherubically innocent.

It was sort of weird.

River looked up at the sound and laid a finger across her lips. “Shhh.” She smiled at them, never shifting, never stopping her caress of the Doctor’s cheek.

She nodded toward the Tardis. Amy grabbed his hand and pulled Rory inside. The door was open to allow the smoke to air out.

The Doctor mumbled something behind them. “It’s nothing, Sweetie,” River said softly. “Go back to sleep.”
Doctor Who, 11th Doctor, River Song, Amy Pond, Rory Williams, Romance, Humor, Fluff, PG

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River and the Doctor's relationship is very timey-wimey. Sometimes she's the older in their relationship, sometimes he is. But one thing is for sure, it's always a surprise, and unexpectedly, full of hidden rewards...

The Doctor was alone in the Tardis, happily working on the console. He felt a hand grip his thigh.

He jumped up, hitting his head on the underside of the console and scrambled out, crabwalking sideways frantically away from that grasping hand.

He stared. “River!”

His curly haired wife grinned at him, her hand still on his thigh. “Hello, Sweetie.”

He hyperventilated and lay back down on the glass floor, puffing. “Don’t do that to me!”

Her hot hand petted his thigh. “Sorry, Sweetie, I couldn’t resist.”

“What are you doing here?” He was trying to ignore the feel of her hot little hand on his thigh. He swiveled his eyes down to her, looking her up and down, trying to gauge how old she was this time.

“Do I need a reason?” she asked archly. She’d switched to tracing scratchy little spirals on his leg with her fingernail. It was making his brain fizzle.

“Of course not, I just didn't expect you, that’s all.” Very deliberately, he sat up, captured her distracting hand, and placed a kiss on the back of it.

“Ooh, la! So genteel!” she gave him a coy sideways look and a flirt, wiggling those beautiful shoulders at him in her gray tank top.

Anything to move her hand, he wasn’t entirely sure the adrenaline pumping through his system was still from the surprise.

He stood up, pulling her up by the hand. He looked her over quickly and reset the Tardis safety systems. Obviously if she’d got in they weren’t working properly. He threw a gimlet look at his traitorous time machine then looked back down at his wife.

Sweatpants, clunky boots, sports bra and tank top, looking like she’d been digging ditches all morning, yet no less gorgeous for that. Very earthily attractive he admitted to himself.

“When are we for you?” he asked. Early he’d bet, she still had that challenging raw edge, that sense of testing him, and her place in his life.

She shrugged. “I decided to give the new security system at Stormcage a run for its money. This seemed like the obvious place to go to in case of problems.”

He smiled down at her. Early indeed. He bonked her affectionately on the nose. “Too right.” He kicked his toolbox under the console and turned back to her. “Have you had breakfast?” He liked it when he got to be the older one in their relationship. He liked taking care of her for a change. It made him feel all protective. Not that River had ever needed protecting. But it was nice. It made him feel every one of his mature years, but in a good way.

She grinned at him. “Do you have any cantaloupe?”

His heart pattered a bit. They’d gorged on cantaloupe during their memorable weeklong first honeymoon. “I’m sure I can find some.”

He reached out and grabbed her hot hand and pulled her along. She gripped back, and followed.

He’d held a lot of Companions hands over the years. He’d always needed a hand to hold onto. But no one else’s hand had ever fit his quite as well as hers did. When she was older, she tended to stand more by his side, as equals, fighting alongside him. When he was younger, she had been the one to grab his hand and drag him away from danger.

But he liked this time the best, when she was still young, still a bit unsure, holding tight, needing that reassurance, letting him, for just a little bit, lead.

Trusting him, when she was not one to trust anyone.

Her hot little hand, holding tight, his more-than-a-Companion.

He looked back at her, smiling.

She was staring at his bum.

He rolled his eyes. Some things never changed.
Hot Hands
Doctor Who, 11th Doctor, River Song, Romance, Humor, Fluff, PG

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With River Song, there's never a dull moment...

She keeps him on his toes.

River Song, in black leather and silver studs, looking like a biker, one leg drawn up casually and sporting high heels, eyes daring him to adventure.

River Song, in a Victorian ball gown, hair swept up in elaborate curls, dripping with chunky jewelry, out-aristocrating everyone in sight.

River Song, in halter top and short shorts, tanned and bouncy, grinning in challenge as she served a volleyball.

River Song, dense, fierce, and angry, covered in soot and burns, a rifle in one hand, a pistol in the other, emerging through the smoke like an avenging angel.

River Song, hair askew, smiling softly, a pillow crease in one cheek, wearing nothing but satisfaction.

River Song, his wife, his friend, his tormenter, his puzzle, his challenge. His song.
The Many Faces of River Song
Doctor Who, 11th Doctor, River Song, Romance, Humor, Fluff, PG

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What would the Doctor and River name their child?

“Oh my god, River. We made a person!”

The Doctor stared up from the medical scanner screen in the Tardis sickbay, his eyes wide with awe. He stared back down at the small cluster of pink cells showing on the screen.

River, sitting on the diagnostic bed, grinned at him flirtily. “Not quite, Sweetie. She’s only four cells so far.”

“She? You know it’s a she?” he asked excitedly, his eyes so huge and gleaming he looked ready to burst with excitement.

“No, but I’ve got to use some pronoun.” She cocked her head at him. “Are you pleased?”

“Pleased? Pleased!” He whooped and scooped her up in a whirling dance, arms and legs going everywhere, bouncing her around until her hair bobbed and she started laughing.

“A baby, River! We’re going to have a baby! What will we name her?” He stopped dancing suddenly, his face serious as he considered that important question.

He pointed a finger at her as she started to say something. “And no 'water' names,” he said sternly. "We have enough rivers and ponds."

“We can’t name her Brooke?” River said, mock disappointed, adorably pouting.

“No.” He said repressively, remembering another Brooke he hadn’t been able to save.

“Rivelette?” she asked, eyes twinkling.

He glared at her.


He glared harder.

“Rain?” she was almost laughing now, eyes bright.

He opened his mouth to refuse, then stopped, an arrested look in his eye.

“With an ‘e’?” he asked, hopefully.

She nodded, agreeing.

“And with a ‘y’ if it’s a boy,” he declared.

“Rainy?” she asked.

“R A Y N E” he spelled out.

She smiled. “It’s a good strong name.”

He grinned at her, totally delighted.  “Our child, River,” he said in wonder. He stared down at her flat abdomen.

“Raine Song.”
Baby Names
What would the Doctor and River name their child?

(Author's Note: I don't normally write babyfic, because I don't think the Doctor and River would risk having a child. But if they could, without worrying it would fall into the hands of their enemies, I think they'd be delighted. This scene came to me, and I thought others might enjoy it.)

Doctor Who, 11th Doctor, River Song, Romance, Humor, Fluff, Babyfic, PG

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The Doctor and River's lives are filled with little moments, those small, unremarkable things that make their screwed up life worth living.

River woke to the feel of a long form slipping into the prison bed behind her.

If it was one of the guards trying something she was going to be up in front of the review board again, for murder. It had been a long time since anyone had tried this. She didn’t tense up, she was too well trained an assassin for that.

She felt long arms slip around her waist, and suddenly recognized the fresh, piney clean, male scent of him.

“Living dangerously, aren’t you Sweetie?” she asked, without moving.

“Go back to sleep, River. It’s okay, I just needed to hold you for a bit.” His voice was older and more serious than she’d heard it in a while. She easily placed him as later in his timestream, and happily repositioned her head on his arm as she felt his body slip up behind her, supporting her, his long legs nudging up companionably behind her knees.

She didn’t open her eyes, she did like snuggling with him, even if it was in her prison cot. “You’re still wearing your boots, Sweetie,” she pointed out.

“Oops! Sorry,” he jackknifed up, totally disarranging her, yanking his arm from under her head and contorting over to reach his boots. The blanket slipped off her, exposing her shoulders to the prison chill as he jerked at his shoelaces behind her.

She rolled over and stared up at him, disgruntled, and adoring. He was concentrating fiercely on his shoes, still completely clothed in tweed and bow tie. His face was older, more defined. She did love his face, even when he was scowling like that. He was definitely a cheese and wine man, becoming better and more refined with age, but never losing his ineffable flavor. He fumbled one boot over the side of the bed, it cartwheeled out of his grip and landed with a thud. The other followed in an annoyed toe shove, his socks half pulled off with the effort.

She stifled a grin.

He went to lay back down beside her. She stopped him with a firm hand on his chest, and quickly divested him of his scratchy tweed. She dropped the jacket over the edge of the bed, then deftly slid loose his bow tie. “You’ll strangle wearing this to bed,” she pointed out, not for the first time.

He just looked down at her patiently, his eyes roaming over her face, one hand coming up to smooth her tumbled hair.

She unbuttoned his top button, and placed a small kiss on his Adam’s apple, she did love his beautiful long neck. She slid her arms around him, and tangled her legs with his. He pulled the blanket up over both of them, careful to tuck it around her cold shoulders.

He laid his cheek on her hair, wrapped his arms around her and snugged her into his warmth.

She peered over his shoulder, the Tardis light pulsed quietly beyond her cell bars, extending a pico-timefield that would hide them from guards and sensors. No matter how long they spent, virtually no time would expend for anyone beyond the field.

She smiled sleepily and slipped a hand up between his hearts. He held her a little bit closer.

Sometimes it was nice to be time travelers.
The Little Things
The Doctor and River's lives are filled with little moments, those small, unremarkable things that make their screwed up life worth living.

Doctor Who, 11th Doctor, River Song, Romance, Humor, Fluff, PG

If you enjoyed the story, add me to your watch list to be notified of future stories. More stories available in My Gallery

Please leave a comment.
I'm a prolific Doctor Who fan fiction writer. I write Doctor Who stories from as short as a couple of hundred words to full novels and everything in between.

All the stories are canon compliant, meaning they're the type and rating of thing you'd find in the TV show itself. Adventure, mystery, humor, romance, and fluff. Alien worlds, historical times, contemporary adventures, and including all the different Doctors and Companions from Doctor Who, Classic and New.

I hope you enjoy the stories.

(I'm new here on DeviantART, so I'll be adding the stories gradually over time.)

All stories are works of fan fiction. Doctor Who belongs to the BBC. No infringement is intended.


Betawhofic's Profile Picture
United States
Longtime Doctor Who fan and writer.

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LeafyLeafeon11 Featured By Owner 3 hours ago  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Do you take requests?
Betawhofic Featured By Owner 3 hours ago
Sometimes, although I only do canon pairings and I don't write other people's OCs.

It depends on whether the idea sparks an idea for a story.
LeafyLeafeon11 Featured By Owner 3 hours ago  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Well, in silence in the library where the doctor meets river, she tells him about when she met him before they were there. She said they went to see the swaying hills/towers and she said that he cried, and wouldn't tell her why.
Maybe you could do a short story of that :3
MclatchyT Featured By Owner Nov 9, 2014
Thank You For The Fav! :D
Anouk-Jill Featured By Owner Sep 26, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
thank you so much for the fav!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Hug :happybounce: 
ChibiAyane Featured By Owner Sep 4, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for joining :icontorchwho:
TheFemaleDoctor1073 Featured By Owner Aug 31, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Hello, how are you? :)
Radiolaire Featured By Owner Aug 28, 2014
Thank you for the favourite!
Tomsworld642 Featured By Owner Aug 9, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you for the fav!Mini Tardis 11th Doctor Dance 
Rapsag Featured By Owner Jul 26, 2014
Thanks for the fave!
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