River Song (spoilers_) wrote in knowhereic, @ 2017-07-16 14:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | whoniverse: canon: bill potts, whoniverse: canon: river song |
Who: River Song (and Mels), Bill Potts
Where: The TARDIS (Twelfth Doctor's)
When: Just past midnight, Sunday, July 16
Warnings: River and Bill bonding time hits a hiccup when it's attack of the trope plotline.
Status: Complete
Shortly after moving into the TARDIS, River had come across Bill engaged in a one woman bake off in the kitchen. She had happily sampled Bill's creations and confessed her own shortcomings when it came to the culinary arts. Bill had jokingly offered to teach her, but rather than laugh, River had accepted the proposition.
And so the two of them had quickly fallen into a routine of cooking lessons and deep thoughts over drinks. River enjoyed Bill's wit and intelligence, and also the tales of her time with the Doctor and Nardole. For her part, River was a quick study, though she had to admit, she did not find baking as satisfying as Bill seemed to. She could and did appreciate good food, but did not find it necessarily fulfilling to have a hand in its creation.
The events of this particular evening had led to a little late-night baking session, where Bill was preparing some kind of cookie whose batter River could not restrain herself from tasting. And tasting. And tasting. The other occupants of the TARDIS were otherwise engaged elsewhere, so it was only Bill and River and the low, reassuring, heartbeat-like hum of the TARDIS.
She was in a particularly jovial mood, and had offered up anything that Bill wanted to know about the Doctor, in any of his many regenerations. She had let it slip that her dissertation had literally been on the Doctor, and the affects of his interference on cultures and civilizations throughout the Universe. "I was a bit obsessive in my youth," she had added, without the least bit of embarrassment.
--
Bill legitimately loved spending time with River - really almost everyone in the TARDIS was interesting to her. Honestly, even though he was a complete psychopath, she'd listen to the Master drone on of he ever wanted just a random ear. It was probably a death wish on some level but she wasn't afraid. She refused to be afraid. As it was, though, she had started to teach River how to cook - and wasn't that just a fucking disaster? The woman had no passion for it but they still seemed to have lessons anyway. Really, they were just an excuse to kick everyone out of the kitchen (though Martha had the invite to join them) and have time that was just ladies.
"Oi! If you keep sticking your fingers in the dough, we're not going to have any left to make biscuits with," was a warning that River had heard multiple times throughout this particular Sunday lesson. And even once, she's swung the wooden spoon at the other woman's knuckles like she was just a rambunctious child. She sort of was, though, wasn't she? It'd be like cooking with the Doctor around. Or he'd ruin it by adding more sugar... Or get crisp crumbs in the dough. One of a million problems possible.
But she had listened dutifully as she scooped out biscuits onto a pan and had rather enjoyed the talk of River's dissertation on the Doctor. "Aren't we all just a bit obsessed with the Doctor?" she admitted easily and without shame. Everyone who traveled with him seemed to have the same obsession. "Though your dissertation makes me really wonder... What worlds hasn't he affected? I mean, whole universes, whole galaxies, all touched. But what singular world out there has never actually been touched in some way, even indirectly?"
--
River was unperturbed by Bill's repeated warnings. It was a compliment to the chef, alright? She had followed along diligently as the two had worked through the recipe, but now River was more concerned with the results of their--ok, Bill's--efforts.
"Well, he fancies himself a rock star. What's a rock star without groupies? And don't you dare tell him I said so. Or he'll be peacocking around with that guitar strapped to his back like so many feathers." She looked around the kitchen cautiously, as if he might pop out of the walls.
"Yes, that's it, exactly. In some star systems, he's only a myth, but in others, like on Earth, for example, he is so inextricably linked throughout its history, that even one change to his past could be disastrous. Look at someone like Jack Harkness and all of the ways his encounter with the Doctor has shaped the destinies of how many people and planets. What about you? What about me? That's one hell of a legacy." River sighed, and then waived her hand dismissively as if everything she had just said had been rubbish. She glanced over at the liquor cabinet behind Bill. "Right, I'm going to need a little wine to go with this melodrama, how about you?"
She pushed back from where she had been leaning against the counter and helped herself to a glass of wine. "He used to be much more conscious of his universal footprint, you know. After centuries of showboating, he finally felt that he needed to quiet down. Went so far as to erase his name from every database in the Universe. So of course, my dissertation had to go. All that work..." She shook her head and took a long drink from her glass.
--
Bill snorted at the idea of being of a groupie of any sort, giving River a bit of a look. "Let's not say groupie. And as much as I hate the peacocking, I think I can stand it for the guitar." He really was quite good and she realized she had an obsession with his hands ages ago, though she believed for a very good reason. That would just feed it. She wouldn't have been surprised if the Doctor had suddenly just popped out of a cupboard...
She smiled as River went on, an amusing realization suddenly occurring to her. "He hasn't told you that he's President of Earth yet, has he?" Bill covered her mouth slightly as she giggled then she shoved the biscuit sheet into the oven to let it begin baking. Perhaps she should have sheeted more biscuits but instead she hopped up onto a counter and watched River with a smile, "Wouldn't mind a bit, if you're pouring."
The Doctor? Quiet down? Bill couldn't even imagine it and the expression on her face said as much. And it must have taken him ages to erase his name like that. How many databases did he have to hit? Or could they have had a cascade effect through time? Take out one, a series of others disappear? She didn't ask. Instead, Bill said, "Oh please. I think I've gotten to know you well enough in this short time to fully believe you've still got a copy of it floating around somewhere out there."
--
River laughed at Bill's look. "Right. You two have the whole grandad thing going on. Is there a suitable word with a more paternal suggestion?" She nodded in concession at the guitar comment. "He's good, isn't he? I don't know where it came from. I don't recall any other version of him with a penchant for music. Unless you count the dork with the recorder. Or the spoons." She rolled her eyes and clamped her hand to her heart dramatically. "Bless."
River retrieved a glass for Bill and filled it up with a healthy amount of wine and tutting over the President of Earth comment. She would pester the Doctor about that later. "Well of course I have a copy," she replied with gusto, "But what good is an author without any readers?" She froze for a moment, realizing that she sounded rather like the Doctor, who was prone to wilting without an audience to show off to. She took another long drink of wine.
--
"Weeeell," Bill shrugged a shoulder. It was a bit more than granddad but she didn't know a word that they could replace 'groupie' with. She smiled as River went on, nodding along although she had to laugh at 'dork with the recorder'. She didn't really know anything about the other regenerations so it was nice to hear more. "You know... He thinks you've only met the last four of his regenerations. Sounds like you've met more than that. I'd love to hear more about them."
She accepted the glass with a little silent 'cheers' before sipping from it. She didn't want to get tipsy from the rather full amount of wine given to her or else the biscuits would burn. "You should have it properly bound and hide copies in libraries. Probably would be best in the fiction sections of certain worlds..." Yes, River sounded very much like the Doctor but honestly, Bill had come to expect that. They were two peas in a pod and that was why she enjoyed their company so much.
--
"Oh," River exclaimed gleefully, tapping the side of her nose with her finger. "I've met them all. Though, naturally, they can't be allowed to remember. I've got a spotter's guide somewhere around here with all his faces." She motioned over her shoulder in the vague direction of her room. "What would you like to know?" As she asked Bill, a small wallet appeared on the counter beside them. River snatched it up and a series of photographs accordioned down. She curtseyed her thanks to the TARDIS and handed the wallet over to Bill. "Enjoy."
As Bill looked at the wallet, River began to feel an odd tingling sensation in her fingertips. She ignored it, supposing it to be the wine. "Now there's an idea," she replied. "I like the way you think.
--
Bill was beyond amused, knowing that the Doctor had to have been wrong about that. She expected River might have wiped the memories of the Doctor during those times. But a spotter's guide? She hadn't been expecting that. Bill set down her glass and opened up the wallet to all the pictures. "So he started off as a daft old man... For ages. And then he got young. Then older. Then young. Then way old. Then young. It's like he can't make up his bloody mind which way he wants to go." She pointed to one of the older faces, the one just before 'Nine', "Why does he look so sad?" The idea of hiding River's dissertation in libraries around the world was put aside for now as Bill frowned at the aged face, touching the edge of that picture slot lightly with her thumb. She could just feel the pain radiating off of him.
--
River smiled as Bill looked into the faces of the Doctor's past. She had her favorites among them, of course, besides his present regeneration. The Third was a bit of a foodie, and she was quite fond of his velvet smoking jackets. And then there was the Sixth, who had made a terrible first impression, but had grown on her rather like a tumor. And of course Eleven, who had known her in all of her regenerations, had seen her at her worst and yet wanted her at his side anyway. Her smile faded when Bill pointed to the Doctor's ninth regeneration. The one they called the Warrior. She hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was her place to share this part of the Doctor's history.
"Well," she replied, "his is a sad story. One that the Doctor keeps very close to his chest." She looked Bill in the eye, coming across as far more dramatic than she intended. "Do not mention him to the ones who came before your Doctor." She finished off her glass of wine, and poured herself another as she spoke. "He didn't start out old and sad. That was a weariness brought on by a lifetime of fighting in the Last Great Time War." River wasn't sure if that topic had ever been broached by the Doctor, so she did not elaborate.
The tingling sensation had begun to creep into her chest. Despite the depressant nature of the wine, she was beginning to feel a bit anxious. She stepped back in order to lean against the countertop near the oven. The air around her felt warm from the heat of the baking cookies.
--
The Eleventh amused her. She could see why her Doctor had called him childish but he looked like fun too. Still, she had plenty of fun with the old man and she'd prefer him over all the others, probably forever. She'd counted the pictures, noticed that the sad one was really number nine even though they called Big Ears that one. She tore her gaze away from the pictures, quietly folding them back up one by one as she listened to River. "Jack told me a bit about that but I don't know much. I expect that's a rather sensitive subject - wars generally are. And while I've gotten a promise from the Doctor to try and be more open, I'm not really willing to press with that sort of topic."
Her eyebrows furrowed together as she watched River and she frowned, "You alright? You look a bit antsy." Bill held on to the spotter's guide for now. It wasn't as important as trying to assess River. "We don't have to talk about that one if it bothers you." Because that's the only thing Bill could imagine was going on right about then.
--
"No," River agreed. "And why should you, when you've got me to press instead." She smiled fondly at Bill. "Or better yet, my damned dissertation!" She raised her glass in a mock toast, but it slipped from her fingers, shattering onto the floor and spilling the wine into a great, red pool at their feet.
She looked down at her hand to find that her skin had begun to glow. And not just her hand, but every inch of exposed skin had taken on a golden yellow glow as a slow discharge of regeneration energy began to swirl about her. "The, uh, the Doctor, by chance, didn't happen to mention regeneration, did he?" River asked, looking up at Bill and slowly backing away.
"You're going to want to take a step back. This should not be happening, and I'm not sur-" Before she could finish, there was an explosive eruption of energy that extended along her arms and head, shooting out into the kitchen like a flamethrower. It lasted only a moment before disappearing just as suddenly as it had occurred. In River's place stood a fit, young woman with dark skin and hair, and an expression of intense bewilderment.
"What the bloody hell was that all about?" She reached down to grab at her abdomen with both hands. "Didn't you just shoot me?" She looked down at her hands, and then back up at Bill. "No, it wasn't you. It was that racist ponce, Hitler." With her hands still clasping her stomach, she surveyed her surroundings. "And yet..." Behind her, an oven timer dinged. She glanced over her shoulder to the source of the noise and then back to Bill. "I think it's for you," she said idly, waving her hand in the direction of the oven.
--
Right. Things were clearly not okay because mid-toast there was suddenly a big puddle of wine on the floor. "Mentioned. Didn't really explain it," but Bill suddenly had the feeling she was going to witness something wild. She was already taking steps back as River began to glow and quietly tucked the spotter's guide into her back pocket to free up her hands. Bill flinched with the explosion of energy and covered her eyes with an arm. And when she looked back... that was definitely not her space mum.
That was... A very attractive woman much closer to her age. Not to say that River wasn't attractive before but there was an age thing. So that was regeneration. But why? As far as she knew, River hadn't been sick or injured or dying. It had just happened out of nowhere. Though she'd never experienced it before, Bill felt this was highly irregular. "Do I look like I just shot you?" she countered, scrunching up her nose at the mention of Hitler. Well then.
"Yeah... Biscuits. You want?" she asked as she grabbed a tea towel and opened the oven, though she kept her gaze half on the woman-that-was-not-River. Bill removed the sheet and put them on the stove. "Got to let them cool a bit," she advised as she shut the stove, then leaned against the counter to get a proper look at this new form. "What's your name?" Because this one wasn't acting like she knew who Bill was. The question was necessary.
--
Melody was still glancing around the kitchen as Bill spoke and retrieved the biscuits from the oven, seemingly oblivious to her being there at all. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the glass of the microwave. Ok, so she hadn't changed this time. Interesting. Her attention turned back to Bill when she asked her for her name. She turned sharply and walked toward her, her eyes narrowed slightly. "Mels," she said, matter-of-factly. "And who might you be?" Her tone was playful, but the way that she moved toward Bill was slightly menacing. "Are we in the phone box again? The bigger on the inside one?"
The last thing that she remembered was regenerating in front of her parents and the Doctor while Adolf Hitler cowered in a cupboard. Her best guess was that she had been brought back inside to recover. Though how she had wound up in the kitchen with Betty Crocker was anybody's guess. "Where's the Doctor?"
--
It was like watching a cat stalk prey and Bill was the prey but she refused to show just how oddly nervous she felt. "Mels," she repeated softly, nodding her head slightly. Something about the way Mels moved made Bill not want to give her, her real name - or at least not the one everyone else called her, "Mina. I'm Mina." Wilhelmina. She hated being called Mina but she was going to be very, very careful here. "Might be. I usually just hang around the kitchen. Never really leave so I don't really know." It was a stupid lie but she wasn't going to outright confirm anything just yet.
"Oh, he's around... somewhere. You know how he is. Whatcha need him for? You're fine. Safe," she kept her eyes on Mels' hands. Bill didn't really want to do the threatening and grabbing a knife for safety thing but if she had to... If she had to, she didn't think she could actually hurt the woman who used to be River. Because this was definitely not River Song, even if they were technically the same person.
--
"Mina?" Melody let out a dry laugh. "How positively Gothic!" She looked directly into the eyes of the other woman. No, she didn't see much resemblance to the quiet naiveté of Bram Stoker's heroine. There was a spark there, a hardiness. She was more than she let on. Mels knew an act when she saw one.
She lifted her hand toward Bill in an ambiguous movement that could have ended in any number of ways, but instead resulted in her reaching beside her to grab one of the still-hot biscuits from the stove. She raised the cookie to her mouth and bit into it slowly, still not taking her eyes off of Bill. Finally, she tilted her head to the side in a way that said she knew Bill was lying, but was not interested in addressing it. Not exactly.
"Ah, so you do know him then. Get a lot of interaction with him while you're in here playing scullery maid, do you, Mina?" She took several steps back and eyed the door. "We have a date, he and I. It's been a long time coming." She looked back toward Bill. "What about his friends, Amy and Rory?"
--
Bill's jaw tensed for a moment at the comment but she wouldn't let it get to her. She'd heard all those jokes before. And really, it wasn't much of a tease. She was seeing something that she didn't want to - something that reminded her of the Master. And she knew that it was going to be a terrible thing if those two ended up in a room together. Her heart was pounding in her chest, not sure what to do.
Her shoulders tensed as Mels reached towards her but she didn't flinch, instead watching as she reached for one of the biscuits. Bill settled her hand on the counter. Her rolling pin was right next to it. All she needed to do was grab it and just... club her over the head. "He likes to eat," she answered honestly though she kept her tone even and free of the usual amusement. The way Mels backed up, watched the door, made Bill think that this 'date' wasn't something good. "I've not met them," another honest answer. In fact, she had no idea who they were.
"You know," she started, trying to play diplomat, giving it the honest try, "We can message him to meet you somewhere. Like the Sun Room or something. You don't have to do a runner." Bill was starting to think her heart was going to pound right out of her chest any moment.
--
"Hmm, is it any wonder," Mels replied, finishing the last of the cookie, "if all of your creations are as delicious as this."
At Bill's negative response to her query about Amy and Rory, Melody stiffened slightly. Neither of them had mentioned there being any other inhabitants in the TARDIS before, but if this Mina was in fact an occupant, as she very well seemed to be, then how was it possible that she did not know either of them. As she understood it, they'd been traveling with him for months. Her guard was most certainly up. Well, more so than usual.
Melody smiled then, a great toothy grin that took her whole face with it. "Sure," she said sweetly. "You do that." She waited for Bill to begin fiddling with some kind of tablet before she made her move. "On second thought," she began, still smiling as she made a move for the door. "I think I'll have a little look-see for myself." She reached the door without incident, but turned to look over her shoulder. "Thanks for the snack," she called out to Bill, holding up her hand in which she held two biscuits.
--
She only arched an eyebrow slightly at the compliment - was it a compliment? Bill wasn't too sure. And it seemed that her response about Amy and Rory wasn't what Mels wanted to hear. She had sort of figured that. And that saccharine tone wasn't fooling Bill one bit. She made it look like she was reaching for the tablet but instead grabbed the rolling pin.
"Oi! Come back here!" she half-shouted as if she hadn't been expecting the change. It took Bill a moment to react properly and honestly, she hesitated, not wanting to hurt Mels - no, not wanting to hurt River but she went for the other woman anyway, swinging the rolling pin at that pretty head. All Bill wanted to do was try and stun her or knock her out. She didn't think violence was any sort of answer but, well, sometimes it could be put to use. As long as she didn't turn into a killer.
--
If Mels had been surprised by this turn of events, it did not show on her face. Instead, she looked almost impressed. "Good for you, Mina!" she laughed, dodging the rolling pin with ease. She slipped through the door, closed it behind her, and quickly disappeared into the labyrinthine halls of the TARDIS.