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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.

“Oceana?”

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

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River is doing maintenance on the Tardis; the Doctor disapproves.


“River! Get your hands out of my Tardis!”

River looked down from where she was rewiring the navigational sensors underneath the console deck. The Doctor stomped up and pulled her oily hands down. He glowered at her and lightly bit her knuckle with an exasperated twinkle in his eye.

Her eyes twinkled back. He was so cute when he was huffy.

“I was just realigning the navigational buffers, Sweetie. They’re too lax.”

“I like them lax, it’s more fun that way!” he protested, waving one hand expressively up at the console.

“That’s because you don’t care where you end up. I like knowing I’m going to get where I’m going,” River pointed out.

“Boring,” he sing-songed.

“Yes, I know you think so, Sweetie. But there is a time for promptness.” She gently withdrew her hands from his, although she did love the warm grip of his long fingers. She wiped her hands on the rag she had tucked in her waistband.

He plopped his hands on his hips and leaned forward. He tapped her on the nose. “Time machine.” He pointed out. “We can always be prompt, it just sometimes takes a few tries.”

“It wouldn’t have to take a few tries if you maintained proper maintenance,” River said, arching a finely drawn eyebrow.

Ah!” he gasped in shock at that unfair accusation. “I am always working on the Tardis!”    

“Yes, yes,” she patted him on the cheek, leaving a smudge of oil. The Tardis hummed around them. “But how much of that is actual maintenance and how much is just fiddling about?” she gave him a wide eyed, pursed lipped look.

His eyes fell wide in indignation. “I do not fiddle about!”

She grinned at him, a thoroughly naughty, dark eyed grin. “Yes you do, Sweetie,” she said in a husky voice. She gave him a slow, soft kiss.

He blushed crimson. He flapped his hands. “We aren’t talking about that!”

Truly, if he went any redder his ears would explode.

She grinned, she liked him flustered.

“I will have you know I am constantly doing maintenance on the Tardis, there is not a circuit or system I haven’t repaired over the centuries!”  

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really!

She crouched down and picked up the micron shunt out of the toolbox. She looked up at him slyly. “Chameleon circuit?”

He stared at her, appalled. He quickly jumped sideways in front of the dimensional controls, arms outstretched protectively. He stared at her in horror.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

 
Repairs and Maintenance
"There isn't another way." "I didn't say there was, Sweetie."

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

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"There isn't another way." "I didn't say there was, Sweetie."  --  How could he understand what he asked of her. Asking her to kill him, to allow herself to kill him.


Alone. River had always been alone. Yes, for some of it she had Amy and Rory. But for most of her life, for most of what she was, she had always been alone.

The Doctor didn't understand that. For all that he considered himself a loner, the man was rarely alone. He had friends up and down the timestream, his Tardis was always full of Companions and noise and excitement. Comraderie.

Not so for her. She really was alone. Alone in Stormcage. Alone in the orphanage. Alone, despite Amy and Rory, in Leadworth. Even in college, where she'd had friends, she'd still been alone.

Until him.

How could he understand what he asked of her. Asking her to kill him, to allow herself to kill him.

How could she kill the only person who'd ever made her not alone? The only person she knew who really cared. Oh, not for the facade of Mels, lying in wait in Leadworth all those years. Not for "Melody Pond" the infant that Amy and Rory still idealistically loved, never having had to put up with childish tantrums or teenage screams.

He was the only one who loved her, River, the name she'd taken for herself, with all her history, all her tinkered biology, all her training and brainwashing and psychopathic tendencies.

But beyond that, he loved her. The her that had no name, the her that had no history. The her that was smart and funny and frighteningly brave, who drove him crazy, and engaged his mind and played with him and flirted with him and understood him.

The her that could go anywhere in time, but still loved archeology. Who loved the intrigue of it, the mental puzzles of it, who loved the dreams and possibilities of it, and even the dirt and sweat of it.

He was the only person in the universe who was unreservedly delighted to see her. Who wasn't intimidated by her, the one who thought she was cute enough to boink on the nose.

How could she kill him? How could she do that and remain sane? It wasn't that he was perfect, or something to worship or admire. It wasn't because he was a "legend" or a "prince in shining Tardis."

It was because he was the open arms, and the teasing glint, and the irritation over admiring chagrin. It was because he was the other piece to her puzzle. It was that she fit right in that spot between his hearts, just as he fit right in that spot between hers.

It wasn't anything as hokey as "being 'part' of each other," they were both too wildly individualistic for that. It was that they were at their best wildly individual selves together.

For the girl who'd fled monsters and lived and died on the streets as a child, there was no surety in life. No belonging. No welcome.

None but that annoyed sigh and eye roll when she caroled, "Hello, Sweetie." And that secret pleased smile to see her he thought she never saw. The knowledge that here was her hand to hold onto; when she was afraid, when she needed to run, or just when she needed not to be alone.

"But I have to die."

"I'll suffer if I have to kill you."

"More than every living thing in the universe?"

"Yes."
Loners, Together
"There isn't another way." "I didn't say there was, Sweetie."

Doctor Who, 11th Doctor, River Song, Romance, Humor, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, PG

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Doctor to Rose - "Remember hopping for your life?" -


“I don’t think I can keep doing this!” Rose yelled back as she barreled forward, struggling to keep her balance.

“Just keep going!” the Doctor’s gruff voice yelled behind her. She twisted to see, not easy when hopping on one foot, and found him right behind her, his long, athletic leg taking long bounds in his blue jeans, his buzz cut hair much less bouncy than her own, which kept whipping into her eyes and stinging.

She turned back around and hopped. Her left leg was chained to her waist, bent up behind her. Their alien captors had seemed to think that would hobble them enough to keep them from going anywhere.

She grinned fiercely and hopped harder. Her left butt cheek hurt. She was sure she was going to sprain her ankle and she could hear the howls of their pursuers gaining louder behind them.

“Quick, over the creek!” the Doctor’s husky voice said, right behind her.

The Tardis was standing on the opposite bank, a series of large stepping stones were all that separated them from freedom. Stones that had been slippery enough with two legs.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding!” Rose stared in disgust, wondering if the creek was shallow enough to just hop through.

A spear sliced through the air and embedded in the loamy ground just beside her. She jumped sideways instinctively, and rammed into the Doctor. He was all muscle and barely shifted. He grabbed her with big hands and set her back on her foot.

“No time for flirting,” he said. “Follow me!”

He, maddeningly, hopped right over the stepping stones, without putting his foot wrong.

A spear streaked across the creek and thudded into the Tardis door, bouncing off. The door opened and Jack peered out, looking both ways. He looked beyond them at the approaching horde then glared at the Doctor as he hopped across the stones.

“Where have you two been?!” he demanded testily.

“Open the door and get out of the way!” the Doctor bellowed, driving forward, his one leg working like a piston.

Rose stared at the stones, hopping lightly to stay upright, she glanced at the swiftly moving creek, then back, hair whipping, at the approaching aliens.

They did not look happy. That’s what they get for bringing down the local god figure.

She grimaced, gritted her teeth, and shouted, “Wait for me!”

She windmilled her arms and hopped to the first stone, skidded, jumped immediately to the second, off balance, slipped again, then just progressively fell forward, one stone at a time, furiously working to keep her foot under her, slipping on each rocky surface, screaming in her head to get some new shoes with more traction.

Then stumbled, floundered, and splashed her way to the opposite bank.

She grabbed the streamside grasses in both hands, wet to the calf, and hauled herself up onto the bank. She rolled, (barely missing getting skewered by a spear that thumped down right where she’d been lying) then scrambled to her foot and hopped like mad for the Tardis.

The Doctor reached it and grabbed the door frame for balance. He waved her forward. “Come on! Hop to it!” he yelled.

She bounced past him into the Tardis in a furious rush, banging up the grated ramp, she could hear him clanging up right behind her.

They both collapsed sideways on the floor next to the console, careful of their bound legs. They lay there panting, eyes checking each other over carefully, catching their breath. The chains around their waists and one ankle clinked on the Tardis grating. Rose’s foot was asleep.

The Tardis dematerialization noise sounded, and they both looked up. Jack stood leaning against the console, arms crossed, twirling the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver in one hand where the Doctor had loaned it to him earlier.

He stared down at them, a naughty smile on his mouth and a twinkle in his eye.

“If I’d known you two were into bondage I’d ...”

“Shut up!” they both yelled simultaneously.
Hopping For Your Life
"Hopping. Remember hopping for your life? No?"

(Based on the 2005 Doctor Who Children in Need Special.)

Doctor Who, 9th Doctor, Rose Tyler, Captain Jack Harkness, Adventure, Humor, Fluff, Missing Scene, PG


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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.

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Betawhofic
Betawho
United States
Longtime Doctor Who fan and writer.
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:iconmclatchyt:
MclatchyT Featured By Owner Nov 9, 2014
Thank You For The Fav! :D
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:iconanouk-jill:
Anouk-Jill Featured By Owner Sep 26, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
thank you so much for the fav!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Hug :happybounce: 
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:iconchibiayane:
ChibiAyane Featured By Owner Sep 4, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for joining :icontorchwho:
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:iconthefemaledoctor1073:
TheFemaleDoctor1073 Featured By Owner Aug 31, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Hello, how are you? :)
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:iconradiolaire:
Radiolaire Featured By Owner Aug 28, 2014
Thank you for the favourite!
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:icontomsworld642:
Tomsworld642 Featured By Owner Aug 9, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you for the fav!Mini Tardis 11th Doctor Dance 
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Rapsag Featured By Owner Jul 26, 2014
Thanks for the fave!
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:iconfirestar541:
firestar541 Featured By Owner Jul 20, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Will you put the TARDIS in more stuff? Maybe as human? (If possible again, or maybe another TARDIS that they find somewhere on their travels)
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:iconchibihugs:
ChibiHugs Featured By Owner Jul 9, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
You know I was thinking as much a Amy loves to tease the Doctor, she probably likes to tease River too. Do you think she ever asked them about granbabies just to watch the ensuing madness? Not sure what Rory would say. Of course the thought of actually becoming a granny at her age might really give her grey hair.
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:iconbetawhofic:
Betawhofic Featured By Owner Jul 9, 2014
That's a good idea. Unfortunately, if I wrote it right now, it would probably be all sad and angsty, I can see River, as Rory's daughter, secretly really wanting children, but knowing it's not possible because it's too dangerous.

But, I'll let the idea percolate in the back of my head for a while, maybe something better will occur to me.
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