River Song (
hell_in_highheels) wrote2009-04-26 09:02 pm
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[oom] New Moon
She's standing at the window, looking out over the Scottish landscape, watching the night sky. The moon is new, and without the competing light, the stars are spectacular. River kneels up on the window seat and touches the controls that bring the opacity down to zero. Starlight isn't as bright as moonlight, but it's still enough that she can make out the horizon. The landscape is stunning.
She settles back, sitting on her heels, arms crossed over her chest, hands rubbing her upper arms, smiling up at the night sky.
He said yes.
He said yes.
She can't help but wonder... What comes next?
She settles back, sitting on her heels, arms crossed over her chest, hands rubbing her upper arms, smiling up at the night sky.
He said yes.
He said yes.
She can't help but wonder... What comes next?
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"Harry."
When did she get on a first name basis with Wells?
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"Sergeant Wells, I mean. I've only met him the once. And that was in passing. I told him I was your mate and he accused me of being a psychic vampire." She cocks an eyebrow at him in question. "He was called away before I could get the rest of that story."
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Oh.
Oh. Whatever he'd been about to say got swept away by that.
"I suppose that's as good a name for it as any," he says, focusing on her throat again. An wash cloth. How fascinating.
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"He didn't mention any details, so your secret is safe, love."
Though she's dying to know more, he's not one to be pestered about such things. If he wants to share the story, he will, in his own time.
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"I don't think this'll need stitches, just a bandage should do." He carefully pulls back the cloth to peer at it.
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"Because I love the way you bite me," she teases, grinning broadly.
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"Just...not quite this much." He reapplies the cloth.
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A little laugh bubbles up in her throat, and she blushes, pressing a hand over her eyes. "It's like waiting to find out if I'm pregnant or not!"
"Gods forbid!"
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"You're telling me there isn't some 52nd Century gadget that tells you that immediately?"
He frowns.
"Pity there isn't one for lycanthropy."
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"Much like this."
"I mean, I bet CAL could detect it." She looks at him, curious. "But I think I'd almost rather wait and find out with you."
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"It can't take more than a few days." He looks at her. "Unless it's magic based."
He knows how much she dislikes that theory. He's not exactly fond of it himself, but he's been a werewolf too long to discount it.
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She reaches up to remove the cloth, and touch the wound, gently exploring it. Suddenly, she's very glad he's human. There would be no bite from the 'wolf's teeth that would have been so -- delicate.
"This is good," she states, simply. "Either this infected me, or you're not transmissible."
Deitmar will probably be all smug when he finds out.
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She meets that kiss, tender and gentle, content to know that he is content.
And now? They wait.