[oom] New Moon

[hell_in_highheels]

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?

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[hell_in_highheels]

The wet heat is doing a lot to soothe the bruised muscle around the bite. That and the weight of his hand, and the care in his touch.

He really doesn't know.

How does she answer that question? For standing your ground? For trusting me? For bringing me into your life and for sharing this with me? No, none of that contains the full measure of her gratitude.

"For being you," she answers quietly. She trusts his nose will smell the rest.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"I'm always me," he points out a bit cockily. His smile doesn't really match it, though.

"I just hoped this worked."

'All for nothing' is not something he's fond of hearing.

[hell_in_highheels]

She smirks at his confidence, rolling her eyes a bit.

This could never be 'all for nothing'. She knows he wants this, too. He knows she trusts him, and to what extent. The gesture alone binds them together.

Her hand cups his cheek and she leans in to kiss him.

"I hope it worked too. But if it didn't, we'll try again."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He returns the kiss as gently as he applied the wash cloth.

"What are your ideas?"

[hell_in_highheels]

She rests her forehead against his, and her scent changes to something more sheepish.

"Hadn't got that far," she confesses.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He smiles a bit.

"Fair enough. I'd only the two myself."

[hell_in_highheels]

"Well, we know at least two people with TARDIS's. So we could find a wolf from the original pack. Or, there are other kinds of 'wolf in the bar. More than one kind of lycanthropy."

He can tell neither of these options is much to her liking.

"Or I could bite the bullet and talk to Harry again. He seemed like a nice enough fellow."

Again, not her preference.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

The smile fades.

"Harry."

When did she get on a first name basis with Wells?

[hell_in_highheels]

She's not military, she doesn't know the difference. Still resting her brow against his, she can feel the smile fade.

"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."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Psychic vampire whut?

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.

[hell_in_highheels]

She watches him out of the corner of her eye, smirking fondly at him.

"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.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"Thank you," he says wryly, preferring to let the matter drop. Over and done with now, let it lie.

"I don't think this'll need stitches, just a bandage should do." He carefully pulls back the cloth to peer at it.

[hell_in_highheels]

"It'll heal just fine. And next time, either way, well...you needn't worry about it." She leans into him with a gentle bump.

"Because I love the way you bite me," she teases, grinning broadly.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"As do I," he grins back, smirking.

"Just...not quite this much." He reapplies the cloth.

[hell_in_highheels]

She nods, leaning against him, content.

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!"

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Richard arches an eyebrow.

"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."

[hell_in_highheels]

"It's an infuriatingly biological process that proceeds at its own pace. I understand that scans can tell you where you are along the spectrum, but the body ultimately decides whether or not it's a success or not."

"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."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He's still frowning, though it's turned thoughtful.

"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.

[hell_in_highheels]

"True. Much as I hate to admit it."

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.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"Here's hoping it's the former," he says, leaning down to kiss her.

[hell_in_highheels]

There are no sweeter words he could have spoken in that moment.

She meets that kiss, tender and gentle, content to know that he is content.




And now? They wait.