They were sitting, back to back, on a dank dungeon cell floor, their hands were tied behind them. That wasn't really a problem for either of them. But these Cheetah people were fast, and it was nice to have a moment to catch their breaths. At least no one was chasing them in here. They could escape in the morning. The Cheetah people had better night vision too.

They leaned back against each other, propping each other up. River's back was surprisingly comfortable. And her hair tickled softly against his neck, making a nice cushion as he leaned his head back against her.

There wasn't much to look at in here, just blank walls and the faint glow from the barred window in the heavy wood door. He could feel River breathing behind him, soft and warm, the only sound in here. There wasn't even the obligatory drips of water to punctuate the silence.

"River, are you asleep?" he asked. A quick nap in a dungeon while they waited to make their move wasn't unusual. It's amazing the things you got used to in married life.

"No, Sweetie. Just thinking," her husky voice came back. He loved her voice. Always had.

"What about?"

She chuckled slightly, he could feel her jiggle against his back. She jiggled nice.

"Nothing much. Cats and cradles, cabbages and kings."

"Ah, literature." He smiled in the darkness. He looked up at the ceiling for a moment, mentally rereading. "Puff the Magic Dragon" he said with fondness.

"Lewis Carroll," she corrected.

"What, no ceiling wax?" he said, frowning.

He could almost feel her smiling. "No, dear. Oysters."

He grunted. "You like oysters," he observed.

"Yes, sweetie." He could feel her fingertips tickling his palm. He squirmed.

She sat up straighter, pushing her soft hips back into his. Honestly, the woman could flirt with her hands tied behind her back. Although it was nice. The cell was cool, but she was warm. It was nice to share a cell with her.

He rolled his head to the side. "You know what I could never figure out?"

"What, honey?" Her curls caressed his cheek as she turned her head toward him. He turned his head a little further and rubbed his face against her soft curls, closing his eyes, inhaling the wonderful smell of honey and vanilla and rain. She bumped his chin with her shoulder. He dropped a kiss on the satiny skin.

She sighed. "You would get like this when we're tied up in a cell waiting to be eaten by Cheetah People." She tugged his bound hands. "What, honey?"

"What what?" he said drowsily.

"What could you never figure out?" she reminded him.

"Oh!" He perked up and sat back down solidly against her back, awake and aware as a little boy, then twisted back around towards her. "Why did you come on to me when you first regenerated?" he asked.

She stifled a snort. "That? That's what you wanted to ask?"

"Well, yeah. One minute you're regenerating and the next you're wiggling in my lap. What was that about?"

"I was going for the gun," she answered. He could hear her suppressing a grin.

"River, you already had a gun," he reminded her.

"Yes, well, you can never have too many guns," she answered sanctimoniously.

He snorted.

"You really want to know, sweetie?" she asked.

She had to be biting her lip and grinning, he could practically feel her biting her lip and grinning.


She turned around, and suddenly she wasn't tied up. She crouched, ropes dangling from her wrists. She prowled over him on hands and knees and he fell backwards on the stone floor, staring up at her. Her hair coiled around her like a mane, even in the dark her eyes glowed predator bright. He gulped, and tingled. The Cheetah's weren't the only wildcats loose on this planet.

"Because, sweetie," she murmured, bending down to nuzzle lightly at his cheek. "At the time I was young and impetuous and really turned on by the bad boys." She grinned at him, a bright, devilish grin that he'd learned to both love and fear.

She purred. "And you were the biggest Bad Boy around."

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