Dressing Up

The Doctor watched as River smoothed the hose up her shapely calf, pulling it up her silky thigh and clipping it to her garter belt.

"Getting an eyeful, Sweetie?" she asked, not taking her attention from her task, a small smirk on her lips.

He jumped. He straightened up in the doorway and adjusted his black dress bow tie. "Sorry, I..."

"Oh, honey, I don't mind," she turned and gave him one of those sultry eyed looks, that "come hither" smile that seemed to bypass his brain and go straight to his legs.

He found himself walking into the bedroom, watching as she slipped on a pair of bright red stiletto heels.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and looked up at her, shimmering in a golden gown, hair piled high on her head, pearl drops dangling enticingly from her ears.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" he asked.

She gave him a coy look as she strapped a small, lethal laser pistol to her thigh. He tried to ignore the gun and concentrate on her thigh. Not a difficult prospect. He'd given up telling her to stop carrying guns. As she'd so succinctly put it during one such argument, "Those are my lives running through your veins, I have every right to protect them."

He hadn't been able to argue with that.

She leaned forward, lips a mere hair's breath from his, he could feel the soft puff of her breath on his lips, he tingled. "Is it working?"

His eyes widened, he blinked. He looked up into her dark, sparkling eyes. "But, we just..." he waved at the bed.

She grinned.

He cleared his throat. "I thought we were going out? That's why we got all dressed up." He waved down at his dress tux, all starchy white and evening black.

Her eyes flowed down over him. She hadn't leaned back. He was having the devil of a time to not bridge that small gap and kiss her.

Her eyes lifted back up to his, even darker now. "Well, you know, Sweetie," she reached up and leisurely pulled loose his bow tie.

"Sometimes the best part about dressing up, is taking it all off again..."