Title: 100 Moments: Doctor/River. Prompt: "059. Food."
Rating: T
warnings/spoilers: I don't think so.
Pairing: Eleven/River
Summery: The minutes didn't matter, nor did the molten sky, or the silly food; all he wanted was the moment
Word Count: 956

Idiot girl.That's what she was, an idiot - and brilliant - idiotically brilliant. How could anyone NOT be interested in his fantastic idea, the wondrous world he was offering and the dangerous dangers to go with it?

When they landed she started eating that frozen-y fruit-y popsicle-ish thing when he told her it would only be a minute. She didn't listen. She never listened, not once in all his years.

"My dessert will melt in a minute. It can wait." She said while crossing her leggy legs and leaning back on the chair.

It couldn't wait. The running didn't wait for anyone. Never has, never will. He told himself as he dashed to the doors of the Tardis and threw them wide apart. The orange and green hues of the molten sky poured into the control room. The Doctor basked in revelry. He had been right, of course. The stone trees brimming with lava so bright and red were far better then any old dessert. Hot, red, smoldering lava the same color as her lipstick smeared so heavily across full, soft lips currently wrapping around frozen-y fruit-y… errr, not at all where I wanted to go with that.

"Fantastic, isn't it?" He said brightly as he turned with a hop. He was so sure she was right behind him, but no. She didn't even have the decency to turn around and look.

"Just a minute, Doctor. It can wait." She said calmly. He ran his fingers through his hair to keep from screaming about how wrong she was. It can wait? She really meant he could wait, he knew it.

Of course it would only take a minute. That wasn't the point. Every minute was precious, every minute they were farther apart and closer together all at once. Every minute was one step closer to tomorrow and he was a today-kind-of-guy. No, that's a rubbish title! The Doctor fumed. What did she know about minutes or desserts or lava or waiting anyhow? Rotten, beautiful, funny, young River Song. Only twenty-two years old, River Song. Brilliant, idiotic, could care less about space and time, could care less about him, River Song. The only thing she seemed to care for was wrapping her tongue loosely around the red frozenness, letting the sweet liquid pool at the cusp of her lower lip. Every taste eliciting engaging sounds of euphoria. Every taste taking longer then the last, and robbing him of the moments he was determined to claim.

With wide, angered steps the Doctor crossed to where River sat in front of the control panels. Putting his hands behind his back, he bent over to look into her face so close to that sticky sugary treat.

"I'm sorry," He began making sure her attention drifted to him for at least a moment. "Am I distracting you from your little delight with my extraordinary time traveling space ship and one-of-a-kind brilliance?"

"Not at all." She said flatly before she rolled the fruit across her lips. She would have been the absolute picture of bad manners had it not been for her eyes. River's eyes were smiling right at him and not through him at all. They were fixed and purposeful and so very blue, those eyes; nearly glowing against the molten sky behind her. The Doctor forgot why he was upset to begin with.

"Forgive me, Doctor, I'm being so rude." She said quietly as she took another taste of her melting snack.

"I'd say so." He said, nodding and feeling rather correct with himself as he stood straight. "Now, where was I?"

"Would you like a taste?" River asked, holding up her item of current affection.

The Doctor turned sharply and stared at her. There was ever so slightly the smallest, tiniest, bittiest bit of a smirk at the corner of her lips. Then he saw her, his River. Thrilling, sensual, perfect River looking back at him at the edge of a smile. There she was deep within the blue, and saturated in the red.

Suddenly, all he could see was red. The boundaries of her mouth that had kissed him a thousand times, but had yet to touch him. Those strawberry curls he had lost himself inside of, but had yet to touch. That jacket like rubies, she wore when she first told him… The Doctor almost sighed, but instead his eyes wavered and dropped as they looked away from her. He had fooled himself. The minutes didn't matter, nor did the molten sky, or the silly food; all he wanted was the moment with her, and she had no idea.

"Doctor?" She said as he turned to face the controls of the Tardis.

"Yes? What? Sorry. Lost what we were talking about." Mindlessly he turned a few buttons.

"I asked if you wanted a taste."

The Doctor, defeated, smiled as he shook his head. "Really, River Song, you are the most single-minded..." He laughed lightly as he turned.

"Doctor," River whispered up into his bowtie. She stood up and closed the distance between them while he was preoccupied, her voice carrying warm tendrils around his lower jaw and neck. The Doctor took in a sharp breath. At this distance his River was at the surface, hanging on the edge of half closed eyelids and a brash half-grin. "I asked, would you like a taste?"

He did not answer her as he stood entranced by her powerful presence. He wanted to answer, but there were no words even in ancient Gallifreyan that could begin to conjure his want, his desire, his River. So instead he fell into the red. He fell into the minutes, the moments, the lips so soft, the eternity so fleeting. The Doctor fell and hoped he would never escape.