polychromatic (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
polychromatic) wrote2012-05-14 10:39 pm
polychromatic) wrote2012-05-14 10:39 pm
Entry tags:
boy do i miss my mom right now
Doctor Who
Mother's day, past and present
Amy Pond, River Song
Written for![[info]](https://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif?v=91.5)
comment_fic
Posted here.
Prompt: Any, Mother's Day
238 words.
The first Mother's Day gift Amy Pond had ever received was a fingerpainting.
She had been putting the finishing touches on the blue police box (ooh wouldn't that make her therapist mad!) when Mels sidled up and thrust the piece of paper at her. Amy remembers staring blankly at the two girls holding hands underneath a squiggly "HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY" in bright blue before looking back at Mels' unreadable expression.
"Mels," she'd said, quirking a skeptical eyebrow at her friend, "Don't be stupid, I'm not your mum."
"It's not like I have anyone else to give it to anyway," the other girl had shrugged nonchalantly.
But Mels had never repeated the gesture again.
Now here she was on Mother's Day, River Song at her back door armed with a bottle of champagne, an enormous bouquet of flowers, and a mischievous smile. "Didn't think I'd forget did you, Mother dear?" she laughed, "I have a lot of time to make up for, relatively speaking."
"So do I," Amy said, pulling her daughter into a fierce hug and crushing those lovely, silly flowers between them. "I was just beginning to wonder how to get a sternly-worded, disapproving phone call through to those wardens of yours."
And the two women settled in at the kitchen table, giddy and giggly with champagne glasses in hand, under the painted gaze of two little girls from their place of honour on the refrigerator door.
Mother's day, past and present
Amy Pond, River Song
Written for
comment_ficPosted here.
Prompt: Any, Mother's Day
238 words.
The first Mother's Day gift Amy Pond had ever received was a fingerpainting.
She had been putting the finishing touches on the blue police box (ooh wouldn't that make her therapist mad!) when Mels sidled up and thrust the piece of paper at her. Amy remembers staring blankly at the two girls holding hands underneath a squiggly "HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY" in bright blue before looking back at Mels' unreadable expression.
"Mels," she'd said, quirking a skeptical eyebrow at her friend, "Don't be stupid, I'm not your mum."
"It's not like I have anyone else to give it to anyway," the other girl had shrugged nonchalantly.
But Mels had never repeated the gesture again.
Now here she was on Mother's Day, River Song at her back door armed with a bottle of champagne, an enormous bouquet of flowers, and a mischievous smile. "Didn't think I'd forget did you, Mother dear?" she laughed, "I have a lot of time to make up for, relatively speaking."
"So do I," Amy said, pulling her daughter into a fierce hug and crushing those lovely, silly flowers between them. "I was just beginning to wonder how to get a sternly-worded, disapproving phone call through to those wardens of yours."
And the two women settled in at the kitchen table, giddy and giggly with champagne glasses in hand, under the painted gaze of two little girls from their place of honour on the refrigerator door.