Jun. 26th, 2009

hell_in_highheels: (oh you)
[cont'd from here]

He runs through his mental check-list one more time while wondering if he's missed something or if he could add something else. Fireplace. He turns the flames on, setting them to low and casting faint shadows across the furniture.

Perfect. He heads for the door and puts one hand on the knob before he smirks and leans against the wall instead.

"Who is it?"


She remembers the first time she stood here, her heart in her throat, wondering just what it was she was going to say to convince him to let her stay.  A smile spreads across her face.  She lays one hand flat on the door, and rests her forehead against the frame*. 

"Three guesses, first two don't count."



*The other hand has been claimed by a certain obstinate doberman.   His dog, indeed.

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River Song

November 2009

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