Original picture source
It had taken very careful coordination. Really, in twisty-loopy, twirly-whirly relationship like the one he had with River, even the best plotting could go up in a poof of smoke because the woman was just so damn brilliant.
He’d had the book for months, and every chance he had to slip it to her somehow got buggered it. It was by sheer luck that he managed to do the switch just as she was leaving the TARDIS.
River Song wasn’t the only one who knew how to pickpocket.
Six days later for him, the psychic paper burned so hotly that he leaped off the captain’s chair and nearly ran smack into strut, causing Amy to giggle. “Hush now, Pond,” he ordered, pointing at her as he jerked the psychic paper out of his back pocket and saw the note literally burned into paper.
“Stormcage. 5076/2/3 10.24. NOW.”
Amy peered over his shoulder. “How’d you piss her off?”
“I did not piss her off!” At least he didn’t think … oh. Oh. The Doctor bounded to the console, neatly dancing around Rory, and keyed in the coordinates. He grabbed an object off the back of the console, gave the Ponds a two-fingered salute, and stepped out of the TARDIS to face his furious wife.
“What?” River seethed, unconscious guards sprawled at her feet, “is this?” She held up her diary.
“Do you like it? It’s a flipbook! See?” The Doctor took the book from her and flipped through the pages, giggling at the handdrawn images of him dancing through the pages, blowing kisses and trying on a variety of hats.
River closed her eyes, and her mouth moved as she silently counted. “Sweetie,” she said after 10 seconds, “as charming as it is, I would like my diary back now. Please.”
He handed over the real diary. “You don’t like it?”
She visibly relaxed as she took the book, holding her chest as if it was an ancient artifact. “My love, I find it charming. Except for that 10-minute period where I thought my diary was completely gone. For good.”
Oh. He shuffled from foot to foot. He had thought … no, he didn’t think of how it would affect her. To have their entire past ripped away from her, not knowing if she would ever get those memories back. He knew how important the diary was to her, and though he’d only been intending to have a spot of fun … “I’m sorry,” he murmured.
“Sweetie.” She kissed the corner of his mouth, her fingers lightly wrapping around his wrist, her thumb gently squeezing the pulse there, and he knew she had forgiven him.
He pressed his forehead to hers. ”I guess you don’t want to keep the flipbook then?”
“Oh, I’m keeping that.” River held both the flipbook and diary close to her chest and gave the Doctor a mischievous smile. “I’ve got plans for that.”
Three weeks later, the patrol outside River’s cell found a book laying outside her cell. The lead guard picked it up, absently flipping it over. “Dr. Song, is this … hey, it’s a flipbook! Look.” He flipped through the page, showing a stick-figure River dancing, spinning, then waving and shouting “Bye!” When he reached that last page, a spray of knock-out gas hit them all in the face.
“That,” River cooed as she opened her cell and stepped over them, “was too easy. So long, boys. I’ve got a hair appointment.”
savvyliterate:
Original image: gytrash
“Never Too Early for Christmas”
The Doctor landed on the Ponds’ doorstep, wearing a hideous jumper covered with reindeers, a huge grin and with an idea.
“Ponds!” he said as soon as a bleary-eyed Amy in her nightgown opened the door. “Let’s make Christmas cards!”
“Christmas cards?” Amy rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Doctor, it’s the middle of August. It’s not time to make Christmas cards.”
“It’s the perfect time to make Christmas cards!” He bounced into the foyer. “Rory! Get your best hat and that vest we picked up in 1995. You know the one!”
——-
“River! River, River, River!”
It was one of the few times River was actually sleeping. A real, deep, honest-to-god sleep. And she was enjoying it. Which was why she did not appreciate being shaken awake.
“Sweetie,” she murmured, “I just spent the past two weeks with you, or another version of you, trying to prevent flamingos from smashing and eating the egg of a royal family member from the rival clan because you insisted they’d save the galaxy one day. Instead, you just liked them because they’re tye-dyed. If it’s not universe-threatening or really amazing sex — which you owe me for that escapade — go away.”
The Doctor flushed. “Don’t talk like that, your parents are standing right behind me.”
River groaned and pulled the blankets over her head.
“Come along! We’re going to go make Christmas cards!”
“When I’m awake.”
“Now, you’re just being a grumpy face.”
River used the last of her energy to lob her pillow into the Doctor’s face.
“If she’s anything like her mother, and she is, I’d just wait it out. Amy can be really mean if she doesn’t get enough sleep. Ow!” Rory rubbed his arm from where Amy pinched him.
“River has a point. I’m going for coffee or a nap. Whichever I can reach first.” Amy stumbled back into the TARDIS.
The Doctor sat at the foot of River’s bed for five minutes before growing bored. Then he accidentally set off the alarms. Or so he claimed as he ushered a still mostly incoherent River into the TARDIS. Rory just sighed.
——-
They went to Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, where Amy took one look and proclaimed it Las Vegas without the gambling or drinking, but with all the tacky. The Doctor was fascinated with one of the Christmas shops there, which spread out over an acre of land. And in the back was a studio for making Christmas cards.
“Why do you want a Christmas card?” Amy asked, cradling her coffee like it was the Holy Grail.
“Because it’s fun!” The Doctor picked up an ornament to admire it, his elbow accidentally knocking over a display of fragile objects. He never noticed.
“It’s not like we can actually send them to anyone,” Rory pointed out. “Last year was our first Christmas, this year we suddenly have an adult daughter? You can explain that one to our parents.”
“It’s still fun!”
River didn’t say anything and sipped from her own coffee.
“Come on, Ponds!” The Doctor grabbed their hands and tugged them to where they could pick out backgrounds, accessories, seating and fonts for the card. “You can’t have a Christmas without cards! It’ll be fun! We’re a family now!”
Amy and Rory exchanged a look.
“Well, we are a family,” Rory acknowledged. “You. Me. Our adult daughter who’s in Stormcage for killing our son-in-law, who’s also your best friend. Who was actually your friend first, then took you away before our wedding and kissed you …”
“She started it!”
“… then we …”
“Spoilers!” Amy, River and the Doctor quickly hissed.
“Right. Anyhow, loads of other stuff I can’t say because it involves another version of my now-adult daughter who apparently was also our best friend in her second incarnation, who regenerated into River, and she and the Doctor got married in an aborted timeline. So he went from snogging you …”
“Again, Amy started it!”
” … to shagging our daughter. Clearly, we’ve got more issues than Coronation Street.”
“Would you have it any other way?” River asked him softly.
Rory looked at the woman he’d held for a few precious minutes as an infant. He cautiously wrapped an arm around her waist, then squeezed hard when she leaned into him. “Somehow, I don’t think we were ever meant for normal.”
“Great! Family bonding! Excellent! We should cap it off later with matching tattoos!” The Doctor tugged a Santa hat on.
“No,” all three Ponds yelled.
Then, they sat for their first Christmas card.
——-
“Why did you change it from Comic Sans?”
“Because, it was outlawed by the Shadow Proclamation, sweetie.” River held the pack of finished cards while the Doctor, Amy and Rory gathered around. “Not to mention it’s a crime against typography.”
“It really is a nice card,” Amy said.
“But, what do we do with them? It’s not like we can send them to our family and friends,” Rory pointed out.
“Oh, there’s a couple of people who’d appreciate them,” the Doctor said.
——-
In a stately home in Victorian London, a young woman named Jenny opened the door to find a cheerful red card propped against the top step. She retreived it, then took it to her partner.
“This came for us,” she said, passing it to Vastra.
With elegance and a warm smile for Jenny, Vastra used a letter opener that doubled as a security device. After inspecting the envelope for any secret microexplosives, she slid the card out. “I believe,” she said, showing the card to Jenny, “they’re doing quite well, aren’t they?”
“Oh, I’m so glad.”
“The Doctor really should get his timing better. It’s May.”
“Yes. But, it’s never too early for Christmas.”
And, for the rest of the year, the Pond family’s first Christmas card sat in a place of honor in Vastra and Jenny’s private quarters.
Reblogging because it’s Christmas.
And for other Eleven/River (and Amy/Rory) Christmas fic …
Christmas Eve with the Ponds: Amy and Rory told their families they preferred to spend Christmas Eve on their own. They decided to omit the part where they were spending the holiday with their adult daughter and her husband.
Christmas Day with the Ponds: Christmas is a time for strengthening familial bonds, exchanging gifts and spiking the eggnog. Sequel to “Christmas Eve with the Ponds.”
A Christmas of Our Own: Their first Christmas together, the Doctor and River spent it with Amy and Rory. But for the second, they wind up to spending it on their own … mostly. Sequel to “Christmas Eve with the Ponds” and “Christmas Day with the Ponds” (M-rated)
Original image: gytrash
“Never Too Early for Christmas”
The Doctor landed on the Ponds’ doorstep, wearing a hideous jumper covered with reindeers, a huge grin and with an idea.
“Ponds!” he said as soon as a bleary-eyed Amy in her nightgown opened the door. “Let’s make Christmas cards!”
“Christmas cards?” Amy rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Doctor, it’s the middle of August. It’s not time to make Christmas cards.”
“It’s the perfect time to make Christmas cards!” He bounced into the foyer. “Rory! Get your best hat and that vest we picked up in 1995. You know the one!”
——-
“River! River, River, River!”
It was one of the few times River was actually sleeping. A real, deep, honest-to-god sleep. And she was enjoying it. Which was why she did not appreciate being shaken awake.
“Sweetie,” she murmured, “I just spent the past two weeks with you, or another version of you, trying to prevent flamingos from smashing and eating the egg of a royal family member from the rival clan because you insisted they’d save the galaxy one day. Instead, you just liked them because they’re tye-dyed. If it’s not universe-threatening or really amazing sex — which you owe me for that escapade — go away.”
The Doctor flushed. “Don’t talk like that, your parents are standing right behind me.”
River groaned and pulled the blankets over her head.
“Come along! We’re going to go make Christmas cards!”
“When I’m awake.”
“Now, you’re just being a grumpy face.”
River used the last of her energy to lob her pillow into the Doctor’s face.
“If she’s anything like her mother, and she is, I’d just wait it out. Amy can be really mean if she doesn’t get enough sleep. Ow!” He rubbed his arm from where Amy pinched him.
“River has a point. I’m going for coffee or a nap. Whichever I can reach first.” Amy stumbled back into the TARDIS.
The Doctor sat at the foot of River’s bed for five minutes before growing bored. Then he accidentally set off the alarms. Or so he claimed as he ushered a still mostly incoherent River into the TARDIS. Rory just sighed.
——-
They went to Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, where Amy took one look and proclaimed it Las Vegas without the gambling or drinking, but with all the tacky. The Doctor was fascinated with one of the Christmas shops there, which spread out over an acre of land. And in the back was a studio for making Christmas cards.
“Why do you want a Christmas card?” Amy asked, cradling her coffee like it was the Holy Grail.
“Because it’s fun!” The Doctor picked up an ornament to admire it, his elbow accidentally knocking over a display of fragile objects. He never noticed.
“It’s not like we can actually send them to anyone,” Rory pointed out. “Last year was our first Christmas, this year we suddenly have an adult daughter? You can explain that one to our parents.”
“It’s still fun!”
River didn’t say anything and sipped from her own coffee.
“Come on, Ponds!” The Doctor grabbed their hands and tugged them to where they could pick out backgrounds, accessories, seating and fonts for the card. “You can’t have a Christmas without cards! It’ll be fun! We’re a family now!”
Amy and Rory exchanged a look.
“Well, we are a family,” Rory acknowledged. “You. Me. Our adult daughter who’s in Stormcage for killing our son-in-law, who’s also your best friend. Who was actually your friend first, then took you away before our wedding and kissed you …”
“She started it!”
“… then we …”
“Spoilers!” Amy, River and the Doctor quickly hissed.
“Right. Anyhow, loads of other stuff I can’t say because it involves another version of my now-adult daughter who apparently was also our best friend in her second incarnation, who regenerated into River, and she and the Doctor got married in an aborted timeline. So he went from snogging you …”
“Again, Amy started it!”
” … to shagging our daughter. Clearly, we’ve got more issues than Coronation Street.”
“Would you have it any other way?” River asked him softly.
Rory looked at the woman he’d held for a few precious minutes as an infant. He cautiously wrapped an arm around her waist, then squeezed hard when she leaned into him. “Somehow, I don’t think we were ever meant for normal.”
“Great! Family bonding! Excellent! We should cap it off later with matching tattoos!” The Doctor tugged a Santa hat on.
“No,” all three Ponds yelled.
Then, they sat for their first Christmas card.
——-
“Why did you change it from Comic Sans?”
“Because, it was outlawed by the Shadow Proclamation, sweetie.” River held the pack of finished cards while the Doctor, Amy and Rory gathered around. “Not to mention it’s a crime against typography.”
“It really is a nice card,” Amy said.
“But, what do we do with them? It’s not like we can send them to our family and friends,” Rory pointed out.
“Oh, there’s a couple of people who’d appreciate them,” the Doctor said.
——-
In a stately home in Victorian London, a young woman named Jenny opened the door to find a cheerful red card propped against the top step. She retreived it, then took it to her partner.
“This came for us,” she said, passing it to Vastra.
With elegance and a warm smile for Jenny, Vastra used a letter opener that doubled as a security device. After inspecting the envelope for any secret microexplosives, she slid the card out. “I believe,” she said, showing the card to Jenny, “they’re doing quite well, aren’t they?”
“Oh, I’m so glad.”
“The Doctor really should get his timing better. It’s May.”
“Yes. But, it’s never too early for Christmas.”
And, for the rest of the year, the Pond family’s first Christmas card sat in a place of honor in Vastra and Jenny’s private quarters.
