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Passing Fancies

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River pulled the TARDIS door closed, giving it an extra tug to make sure the lock clicked in. She might borrow as required, but she would hardly leave the Doctor open to theft. Especially not this Doctor, who seemed to have things happen to him a good deal more than he happened to things.

There he was now. River let herself fade back into the crowd and watched him stride up to the TARDIS, curls bouncing and tails of his velvet frock coat swirling about him.

Oh, the things River would do to this body if she could. He was so young; not just his face–River had seen him younger–but his eyes. His eyes made River want to weep, for more than one reason.

He opened the door–still rolling on the balls of his feel as though he was only just keeping himself from dancing to music only he could hear–and seemed about to vanish inside when he turned sharply, and almost directly toward River. She looked away, pretending to search the shop windows across the avenue, only looking at him when it was clear that he was going to stare.

His gaze met River's, his lips–such beautiful lips–parted, and he looked as though he were about to say her name.

Then he shook his head sharply and jerked the door open the rest of the way open.

River wanted to call out and stop him. Hello, Sweetie, she'd say, or, What took you so long? or Run!, but River pressed her lips together and turned away from the click of the door and wheezing sound of the TARDIS dematerialising.

There would be other days, and other Doctors. For now, she had a vault to crack and a tomb to un-rob.