A/N: I've been on such a DW kick since the new series started. Anyway, this is just a little semi-fluffy thing that's meant to be a sort of unseen moment from Day of the Moon, taking place after they've broken out of Area 51, but before any of the action starts. It occured to me that there would have to have been a brief break for everyone where the Doctor cut his hair and everyone took their first shower in three months. This is what came from that.
DoctorxRiver-ish. (Oh, and I'm American. Excuse any ignorance of Britishisms. Actually, consider them revenge for Andrew Garfield's sorry excuse for a Tennesse accent in "Daleks in Manhatten". As a born-and-raised Tennessean, I can't watch those episodes without cringing.)
It's been a very long time since he's had this sort of experience.
It's so very ordinary, so mundane, so, so…domestic. He's just not used to it.
Five bathrooms and somehow they both end up in this one. River stands to his right, fluffing her freshly-dried curls with one hand while the other takes different make-up items that he hasn't a hope of identifying out of a small bag on the counter.
"Are you alright, sweetie?" River asks, giving him a slightly patronizing smile.
The Doctor shoots a brief glare her way as he brings a washcloth up to the small nick on his cheek. "Don't give me that look," he says, rinsing his razor in the sink, "I've never had to shave three months' worth of beard off of this face." River just rolls her eyes at him and starts putting on make-up. It's all very…couple-ish, the Doctor thinks. Apart from the visible age difference and the metal workings winding around the bathroom, they might look like an ordinary married couple preparing for an ordinary day. "Ow! Ruddy twenty-first century razor. No wonder Rory's always got such stubble."
River pauses her application of eyeliner and regards him again, amused. "What are you using that thing for? What happened to your Frischiaro razor? Or have you not got that yet?"
"I broke it awhile back, and then all of this mess started before I got around to fixing it. OW!" The offending razor is flung into the ornate copper sink as the Doctor glares at his newest injury. After a moment he pulls the sonic screwdriver out of his pocket and directs it at the strip of his cheek yet to be shaved.
River pauses again and looks at him, one eyebrow quirked. "What are you doing?"
"Trying to resonate the hair follicles."
River just rolls her eyes again and goes back to her eye shadow. Eventually the Doctor gives up on the sonic and resorts to using the razor again, and he looks very relieved when his face is again beard-free.
"There we go!" He proclaims, rubbing his smooth chin proudly, "Back to normal. Well, normal apart from looking like a fifteen-year-old who's just finished shaving for the first time."
"Maybe you should have kept the beard," River adds, smiling, "It made you look older."
"Nah," The Doctor replies as he begins trimming his hair, "I'm tired of looking old. I haven't looked this young since…" he pauses, and his lips turn into a thoughtful frown, "Well, you know I don't think I've looked this young since I actually was this young."
"Need some help?" River asks, as the Doctor twists his neck and back awkwardly in an attempt to trim the hair at the back of his head.
"No, I've got it."
"You're still bleeding." The Doctor pauses to dab at one of the cuts on his cheek, and it causes him to wince. "Still stings?"
"Want me to kiss it and make it all better?" River asks, smirking.
The Doctor's face turns red and he focuses on trimming his bangs. "That won't be necessary."
"You sure?" River says, her voice low. She pulls a tube of lipstick out of her bag and applies it slowly, in a manner the Doctor might label as flirtatious were he any good at identifying such things. "It'd be no problem."
"No, really, that's fine," the Doctor says, only half listening now, as he's looking out the corner of his eye at the mirror as he tries again to cut the hair at the back of his head.
"Sweetie, put those down, you're going to cut your ear off." He hasn't noticed how close River's come to him until she pulls the scissors from his hands and lays them on the counter. She really is quite a striking woman, he thinks as he looks down at her. He wonders again how old she is—not that it really matters, but she's quite stunning for her age, whatever it is, and he can't help but wonder. He opens his mouth to ask her, but then remembers how rude that would be, so he starts to ask her something else, but the breath is sucked from his lungs before the question fully forms. River has lifted her head and pressed a kiss onto one of the cuts on his cheek, and then to the other one. She kisses his chin, his cheekbone, his jaw; every little place he'd nicked himself, and he swears he's not imagining his skin tingling under the gentle touch. Both hearts are pounding furiously when she pulls away, that strange, secret smile on her face.
The Doctor's mouth is still hanging open when he turns back to the mirror. He wasn't imagining the tingling on his skin. He freezes, blinks, and looks back at River. "How did you do that?"
"Nanogene chapstick," she says, her smile wider and more casual now, "Derived from Chula medical technology. Mostly just heals chapped lips and cold sores, but it works well with small cuts and burns, too."
"Where do you shop, River Song? I didn't know Sephora had an 'Intergalactic Super-Criminal' line. Hallucinogenic lipstick and Nanogene chapstick; what's next? X-ray mascara?"
River laughs. "No X-ray mascara, I'm afraid. Though I think I've got some pheromone perfume in here somewhere." She winks, and the Doctor looks away and decides that the conversation has gone as far as he's willing to take it. "I'm actually more surprised that you know what Sephora is."
He shrugs. "Well, you travel with enough women, eventually you pick up on some of these things. Sephora sells make-up. Victoria's Secret sells unmentionables and great yoga pants, but Juicy Couture has the market on velour track suits for people who don't actually run track. If you want sunglasses you go with Dolce and Gabbana, but it's Louboutin for platform pumps. Dooney and Burke make the purses that look like colorful Louis Vuitons, and for the record I warned Beatrice about that hat, but she just wouldn't listen."
He reaches for his hair scissors again but River beats him to them. "Let me."
"You know I have cut my own hair before," The Doctor says, frowning.
"Not in this body, you haven't. Amy does it for you; I saw the look on her face when you said you were going to cut it yourself." He can't argue with that and he knows it, so he keeps his mouth shut and lets her finish. It's still so odd, this whole experience. He doesn't trust River, not completely, anyway; but he feels so inexplicably comfortable in her presence. He likes having her around, even if it does always mean trouble. But in these moments, these rare, quiet, ordinary moments, he quite likes her. It's moments like this that make it seem possible that she could one day mean more to his future self than his present self cares to admit.
"There we go, there's my spiffy boy." River winks again and begins packing up her make-up. She smells rather nice, the Doctor thinks. He wonders if she was kidding about the pheromone perfume.
They exit the bathroom and the moment has ended. The ordinary is over and it's back to saving the world. However, the Doctor's gaze lingers on River just a second longer than usual as he exits the Tardis.
He's never really been one for domestics, but he has to admit: he could get used to having her around.
A/N: Tell me whatcha think, and point out typos if you see any. I like to correct my mistakes.
PS: I love Andrew Garfield. In Never Let Me Go he made me cry like a baby, and he's sexy as heck, but the guy can't do a convincing Southern accent.