A/N: Written in the same 'three tenses' style as The You Stole Me. And I Stole You.
Intimately And Intricately.
It is, was, will be something only they can share; herself and 'the only water in the forest' bound together intimately and intricately as one.
The Doctor; River suspects and the Tardis knows, that he, their Doctor is, was, will be inexperienced in this wonder they create.
River flops, toppled, sagging against the dark and empty console as the Tardis presses, pressed home into River's open and willing mind.
They knock, knocked the ridiculous looking zigzag plotter setting it spinning in a lazy circle as their legs fold neatly like origami beneath them and the Doctor always ready for a falling River, he does, did, what he will always do; just as he promised, catch her.
Their eyes open, hazy with a translucent glow and a smile that is, was, will be all Idris.
It is, was, will be the sparkling tendrils of golden light seeping from between their parted lips and the grinding song of the Tardis escaping like a hiccup that truly give them away, and the way his own face lights up as it all pieces together like a jigsaw in his mind is, was, will be one of the most startling beautiful things they have, had, will ever see.
Their lips are, were, will be on his in an instant. River is, was, will be in as much a hot pursuit of his mouth as Idris is, was, will be in their mutually - even if past and continuous squabbling over the steering suggests otherwise - shared body.
Their Doctor he can be so endearingly slow, but he catches on soon enough, his mouth soft and gentle as his body natural sways against them, his hands never quite finding purchase on River's body as though the moment would break.
They chase, chased his wandering hands as they hovered uncertain above her shoulder and the golden spun curls that surrounded River's face and pressed, presses both his hands against the skin of their; River and Idris's cheeks, encouraging him to feel the flushed skin beneath their eyes and the blood that swells beneath the surface of River's full and inviting lips.
They – though more River than Idris - playfully nip at his thumb, a parody of the bite they are to, were yet to, will administer to his collar bone, and he whimpers as though his nerves have been dealt a shock of electricity, the sound ringing like a glass bell in their ears, sugar-sweet and addictive.
River has, had, will have to push him back and nudge Idris aside for a moment to breath, blessed oxygen filling and stretching her lungs as with haste Idris and River come back together to pull apart their present, the pretty little bow unravelling beneath River's teeth and Idris's quick fingers unwrapping his shirt to uncover the soft, youthful skin at his throat.
Their lips sort his throat, their tongue dipping into the small hollow to capture a taste of the salt there and the lingering tang of washing detergent that has, had, will have rubbed off onto his skin, the flavour is not, was not, will not be altogether unpleasant, but rather a strange tingle on their entwined taste buds.
He; their young, old Doctor, moans her name. "River," the word slipping smoothly from his lips like water off a ducks back and she; Idris bites down on his collar bone, teeth sinking into yielding flesh making him yelp, "Sexy," in apology and admonishment, "That hurt." He moaned, his pouting lips blossoming into a pleased smile as his old girl soothed the skin she has, had, will have branded with small kitten licks.
Like a drowning man using the last vestiges of energy to break the surface the Doctor, fool that he is, was, will always be, pushes River's body away and holds them in place with both his hands on their shoulders and a certain steal in his eyes.
"This isn't safe, it can't be safe. You have to stop this before you hurt River." His eyes implore her; the Tardis to see sense and though his voice is, was, will be full of tenderness there is, was, will be an edge of that fire he reserved only for those who endanger people he cares deeply for.
"We are one and two." She smiles, smiled, her hand reaching up to sooth the lapel of his jacket. "Always and forever. She sustains me and I her. We are time and space spun and interwoven to give form to a puzzle that cannot be broken."
The Doctor's grip tightened on their shoulders and they can, could feel deep in their shared body small bloody capillaries bursting and filling out the shapes of his finger prints.
He stares, stared for the length of a breath and for all of eternity, "Do you, I mean River, does she..." he sighs, sighed like the winds of Women Wept.
"Sweetie," the pitch of her voice is, was, will be near perfect, but not close enough for the Doctor to not be able to hear the note of strain in her voice, "While I appreciate the concern, will you just bloody shut up and kiss us, we can keep this up for a maximum of 43 minutes, before my brain cells start to sizzle."
"But is it safe, River?"
Slowly River's familiar smirk spreads itself across her face, "Safe? When have I ever played it safe?" She wraps, wrapped her hand tight in his braces, giving it a challenging tug, "Are you going to kiss your wives or what?"
It is, was, will be the most dangerous of games, but the three of them play it so well.