Rating: All Ages
Word Count: 1998
Author's Summary: The Stormcage guards know by now that they have as much chance of keeping Doctor Song locked up as they do of waking up to blue skies over the prison. That doesn't mean they don't try, but they've developed a coping mechanism, too.
Characters/Pairings: River Song, other characters
Recced because: Original characters are cool. I realize that they've been done badly, often, in every fandom there is, but when done well they make the story so much richer. And personally, I happen to love explorations of what happens to ordinary people as a result of the things the heroes do. So I wanted to rec at least one story that was mostly about background characters, and this is a good one, well-written and amusing. Not chock full of jokes, you understand, but a sort of humor that is almost part of the background setup. I don't know if this will make sense, but I think of it as Get Smart humor: the funny that comes from people trying to cope sensibly with a situation that is, frankly, just a tad shy of sanity.
"It's Doctor Song, sir." Gryphon snuck a quick look over his shoulder. "She's... packing." The tramp of boots echoed through the corridors, drowning out the swearing of his superior officer on the other end of the commphone, but he thought he could hear the faintest breath of displaced air. Sure enough, when he turned around, Song had disappeared.
A disgruntled murmur ran through the crowd of guards assembled around her cell, and Gryphon waved at them frantically to shut up. "Strike that, sir, she's gone." He winced and pulled the receiver away from his ear. "Yessir, I'm sure. Nosir, no telling how. Yessir, full investigation right away." He hung up and made a face at the phone before turning to the rest of the guards.
"Right, back to the guard lounge, you lot," he said before any questions could start flying. "Dickenson, you've got the official record this round, yeah?" The small brunette nodded and smiled encouragingly. "Airdrie, it's your turn to fetch the security feed." Airdrie rolled his eyes in annoyance — all the more impressive since he had five of them, dark orange against the lime green of his skin — but trotted away obediently. "The rest of you, you know the drill. Move it or lose it!"