The Doctor was standing at a large rail of ladies’ underwear, looking intently at a purple and black bra, which proclaimed itself to be ‘multi-way’. He turned his head to the side in an attempt to make some sense of the claim from the evidence he could see. Clasps, straps, cups, underwire: it all seemed very standard. Perhaps there was some further clue on the back? He plucked up the little hanger to take a closer look. A few minutes later he thought he had finally figured it out and was about to go and pay for the damage when he was interrupted by a worried looking woman with a name-badge that said, ‘Judy.’
“Excuse me, sir,” she said, wringing her hands. “Your wife, she’s asking for you. She’s a bit upset.”
“I don’t know. She was trying on what I was bringing her and she just burst into tears.”
There was a time when hearing that River was upset would have turned his blood cold with the need to inflict the same upset on whoever had induced the state in her. That was when it had been rare enough of an occurrence to shock him; that was also when there needed to be a clear reason for her to become upset. But now, he was actually getting used to it. He hoped that he could get un-used to it again once she went back to normal…if she went back to normal.
He got to his feet and traipsed, hands in pockets, over to the changing rooms. He had told her that the TARDIS could make her any clothes she needed; no matter how large she needed them. The way her face fell made him realise that he shouldn’t have added that addendum and he apologised immediately. (The learning curve was alarmingly steep — he was amazed that he had been able to navigate it so far.) She told him that she needed to be measured, and in spite of his offers she insisted on having a ‘professional’ do it.
Judy indicated which of the fitting rooms River was in and he thanked her before nervously stepping up to the drawn curtain. “River?” he spoke into the heavy fabric. She replied with a sob, easily the saddest sound he had ever heard come out of her, and his hearts sank.
“I’m coming in,” he told her and then stepped in through the curtain.
She was standing with her arms crossed over her chest, still wearing her trousers with her newly rounded belly curving up from the waistband, still only barely there.
“What’s wrong?” he asked gently. She answered by dropping her arms away from her chest to reveal a black cotton bra. He looked at it but couldn’t decide what the exact issue was. She must have sensed his confusion because she explained, “It’s hideous; they’re all hideous.”
“It’s not hideous,” he said, approaching her and stroking her cheek. “It’s just a little bit plain. It’s not about the wrapping anyway, it’s about what’s being wrapped.” He kissed her cheek, and tried to catch her gaze, but she kept it resolutely away from him. “That’s hideous too,” she mumbled.
He was gobsmacked. He couldn’t fathom her thought process — how she had added two and two and somehow managed to arrive at the square root of minus one.
“River, look at me.” He chucked a finger to her chin and brought her face around. “How are you hideous? Have you seen you? Well of course you have, that was a silly question, but you can’t have been seeing very clearly. You’re more gorgeous than ever, you daft woman.”
She smiled, “You have to say that.”
“Yes, yes I do. But that’s not why I’m saying it. It also happens to be true.”
She laughed and he kissed her, sliding his palm down to stroke her warm round stomach. She gasped into his mouth.
He looked at their reflections in the changing room mirror and made a low possessive sound. Her nipples were visible through the thin fabric of the bra; he swept his thumb over one and she leaned back against the partition wall with a moan. He put his index finger to his lips to shush her and searched her eyes until she indicated that she could keep quiet with a small nod.
He slid his hand around behind her, unfastening the clasps of her bra, before carefully removing it and hanging it on a hook behind him. He turned back to her and bent down to apply the cool salve of his tongue to one nipple and then the other. Her body rolled under him.
He unbuttoned her trousers and coaxed them gently down over her thighs until they fell to the floor and she stepped out of them. He kissed her mouth, slowly and thoroughly, dropping his hand to her hip and making large circles with his palm. “You’re beautiful, River, and I fancy you,” he whispered.
“Even now?” she mouthed to his ear.
“More than ever.”
He slid his hand down inside her knickers and slipped one fingertip over her sensitive clit. Lightly and smoothly and slowly he worked the pad of his fingertip in lines and circles and spirals over the spot, building on the foundation of her frustration. “River, if we were somewhere more private, I’d show you exactly how much I fancy you right at this moment,” he breathed, eyes closed.
“Show me anyway,” she whispered and his finger paused momentarily while he pondered. He pulled his hand out and lifted her leg for her to prop her foot on the low bench by the mirror. He shrugged his jacket off and hung it next to her discarded bra and then slowly unwound himself from his braces, allowing them to drop loosely around his legs.
He leaned towards her as he unbuttoned his trousers to release his erection. “You have to be quiet now.”
She bit her lip hard to demonstrate her willingness.
He moved his hands down, pulling her knickers to one side and guided himself to her opening, pushing gently and insistently until he filled her. “My gorgeous River, do you see what you do to me?” he whispered into her ear. She stayed silent, her breathing quick and shallow.
He moved his hips in a slow even rhythm, all the time whispering to her and rubbing — his thumb now — in lazy random patterns over her clit. He could feel her getting closer, swelling around him as she threw her head back and shut her eyes.
She was breathing in tiny rapid pants and he changed the pattern of his thumb once more causing her body to tremble at the onset of her orgasm. He continued his movements, mindful not to alter them at this juncture, to allow her the full force of her climax. She screwed her eyes shut and held her breath as every fibre of her being screamed with pleasure.
He watched her come; she looked phenomenal and unspeakably erotic. He grabbed both of her hips and quickened his thrusts, eager to follow her, the swish and light slap of his braces against his legs echoing through the quiet room.
“Look at me,” he whispered desperately. “Look what you do to me.” She opened her eyes and stared straight at him enveloping him in a warm wave of pleasure. He kissed her violently as he lost control of his body and finally came, shaking from the necessary suppression of sound.
He slumped forward, trying to catch his breath and she licked along his jawbone causing him to shiver and stumble backward. She stood panting, back to the partition wall, with her leg still propped on the bench. She grinned gamely as he fastened himself back up and wound his arms into his braces.
He stood for a moment, relishing the sight of her disassembled state, before moving in to kiss her and grope her stomach again.
“Pervert,” she said, noting his enthusiasm for her small bump.
He shrugged and smiled widely before slipping his jacket on. He hooked his fingers under the strap of the black bra that was still hanging where he had left it. “This?” he asked.
“Yeah, and these two,” she replied grabbing a couple more and passing them to him.
“Right. See you outside when you’re ready, I’ll pay for these,” he said, stepping back out through the curtain.