I'm not really sure what made me write this one. I guess the last oneshot I wrote with Eleven and Jack was really fun, and seemed to go over well, that I couldn't resist doing another. At any rate, I'll let you guys decide how this one went. Enjoy!

Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock

Don't Stop at Hello

At the bar one night, a stranger plopped onto the stool next to him and without a look or a preamble stated plainly, "Jack, I think I'm in love."

He turned to study this strange, cute mix of tweed, bowtie, and floppy hair, letting an easy smile slide onto his face. "Well a 'with you' would be a nice addition to that sentence. Not to mention a name, since you already seem to know mine."

The latest object of his attentions seemed confused, scrunching his nose up in a rather adorable way and swiveled in his stool to at last face him. "Well of course I—oh!" A look of realization came to a face too young for those ancient eyes. "It's me, Jack, your old Doctor. Regenerated, see?"

"I do," he nodded, though inwardly sighed as hopes of a satisfying evening evaporated. Still, he would never say no to a visit from the Time Lord. "When did that happen?"

"Remember Alonso?" His friend responded with a question of his own, and Jack's smile almost turned to a leer. Oh yeah, he remembered. "About a few minutes after that."

That certainly sobered him, at least in mood. "You were dying?"

The Doctor nodded. "Yes. That was just about a year ago for me. Not sure about you, though, the Old Girl's been having some trouble making the short jumps lately. Still, here I am!"

It hadn't been too long for him either, although Jack had privately given up hope of the Doctor coming to see him again for anything other than an emergency. Taking a drink to brace himself, he joked, "So is the universe about to implode or something?"

"No, no, the universe is fine. Rebooted, but fine." The Time Lord continued before he could ask, "And I thought maybe I'd pay a visit. Just saw Sarah Jane and Jo Grant the other day—course you don't know Jo, but anyway I needed to talk to you. Needed- well, I'm asking for your advice."

There it was. Jack opened his mouth to ask about what, when suddenly he recalled distantly the words this latest incarnation of his friend had originally greeted him with. His jaw dropped even more. "You're what?"

The Doctor, for his part, grimaced. "Yes, I know, the Oncoming Storm asking for advice—"

"Not that," Jack interrupted impatiently. "What you said, the first thing you said."

The alien's nose scrunched up again, still cute—and was it fair that while Jack was keeping a look out for grey hairs, the Time Lord seemed to only get younger with age?—and likely mentally backtracked through their conversation. "I think I'm in love?"

"Yes, that." As his friend continued to stare at him curiously, Jack felt too shocked for words. Finally he managed, "Doc, what the hell?"

"Oi!" Came the indignant exclamation and admonishment of language, but Jack was too busy downing the rest of his drink and motioning to the bartender for another. "What does that even mean, Captain?"

"Exactly what I said. Do you want something?" He for one realized he was going to need a lot of alcohol to make it through this conversation.

His friend looked at his now empty glass in distaste and fiddled with the bowtie at his collar. "They haven't got tea by any chance?"

Jack shook his head with a slight twinge of amusement. "Sorry about the outburst, Doc," he apologized belatedly as his third drink of the evening was placed before him. "But you have to admit you're not pulling any punches on the shock factor. I mean, love? That's not usually you."

"I know," his friend agreed emphatically, frustration and dare he say a sort of fear coloring his tone. "I don't like thinking about it."

He raised an eyebrow. "Then why talk to me about it?"

"I've already got all the reasons why this is bad running around in here," he waved a hand at his head. "Might as well hear the good."

Jack took a swig of his drink. "Maybe you ought to start from the beginning," he suggested, and couldn't help grinning. "Who's the lucky one?"

"River Song." It was amazing how the name from his lips sounded both like a divine goddess and a curse at once. "Dr. River Song. Or Professor, depending."

"Right," Jack said, accustomed to his friend not making much sense. "Not your usual choice in travelling buddy."

"Oh no, she doesn't travel with me—that's Amy and Rory, but they're on a honey moon right now. I mean River's there sometimes, but then she sort of leaves."

"You're talking like this is a regular thing," Jack commented, a bit surprised at the casual way the alien mentioned his married companions. "How does she manage that?" Coming and going as they pleased was usually the Doctor's thing.

"She's a time traveler of sorts," the Time Lord revealed, causing him to raise an eyebrow in interest. "I mean, whenever she doesn't have a vortex manipulator or she needs something she calls me." Before Jack could ask how, the other man whipped the psychic paper out of an inner jacket pocket.

"And you're ok with that?" He was taken aback by the words coming from his prideful friend.

The Doctor's expression, however, was one of almost deadly seriousness as he said, "I don't want to think of what might happen to her if I didn't show up half the time."

"Ok," he drew it out, bewildered beyond belief by this conversion about a woman that he was having with the Doctor of all people. He wondered if maybe he was really just making this up in some kind of drunken delusion. "I'm going to need a bit of background, Doc. Right now you're just leaving me really confused. She doesn't sound like your average 21st century female, at any rate."

"She's not. She's 51st century as far as I can tell, like you Jack. Though she might just want me to think that for some reason, time traveler and all that. I see her plenty in other times."

"Is she playing mind games or something?" He asked, a bit thrown by the open suspicion the Doctor held towards someone he seemed to think he might be in love with.

"It's all very complicated," his friend said, "and I don't have all the answers. But you see, our timelines are sort of mixed up."

"Mixed up?"

"We meet in the wrong order."

"You're kidding!" Jack had heard of such a thing when he'd still been with the Time Agents, but more as a cautionary tale than a reality. "So she's met you sometime in your future? What's she said about it?"

"Nothing," the Time Lord replied shortly, then tugged at his collar again. Jack mentally noted it as one of this new body's nervous habits. "But the implications- well."

"Well what?" He prompted, taking a drink and leaning in. This sounded very interesting.

"Well, I mean, River's rather like you in other ways as well, Jack," his alien friend stammered, now leaning away and scratching at his cheek, probably regretting ever starting this conversation. "Specifically the flirty part."

"So she's interested. In you," he clarified, enjoying the flush that rose to the others cheeks.

"Ah, yes. I think. But that's not the trouble, Jack. I mean, I wouldn't be bothered, but it's just—she says these things and then sometimes I find myself saying things back! Or saying something without her even saying something first!" Jack could barely keep from gaping at the Time Lord, but he doubted he would have noticed anyway. The Doctor was on a roll now, like a dam that had burst.

"She hardly needs the future knowledge, she's already clever by half. She can pilot a TARDIS better than most Time Lords," he noticed that the alien left room to interpret whether that included him or not, "she's just very capable in general. Not like any other human I've ever met."

"Pretty?" He supplied, resting his chin in his hand and propping the elbow on the bar somewhat teasingly.

"Hell in high heels, Captain."

That made his eyebrows rise to his hairline. "I might have to be the judge of that. Picture," he held out his hand expectantly.

The Doctor jumped, eyes shifting away. "I don't—"

"If you even think you're in love, you'll have a picture."

Red-faced, the Time Lord reached into a pocket and passed one over. "I found it in the TARDIS," he muttered guiltily.

But Jack was studying the incredibly gorgeous woman in the photo. It didn't escape his notice that she was not one of those fresh-faced girls who went to see the stars with wide eyes. No, this River Song was definitely a woman. He gave a low whistle. "Yep, that was a pretty accurate description." He flipped it over to the back, having noticed some writing. "For Sweetie," he read aloud, the x's for kisses not escaping his attention. "You're 'Sweetie'?"

He looked up in glee to see the Doctor nod, the blush only increasing. Jack laughed. "Jack, please," his friend protested weakly, and he finally managed to subside into chuckles. It took a while, though.

"Ok, so she's definitely got plans for you. What things exactly have you been saying?"

"I mean nothing like—I only—she saved Amy and it was amazing and I said I could kiss her." Jack was stunned once again, and the Doctor didn't wait for a response, instead just rushing on. "She didn't take me seriously, but if she had...I don't know what I would have done. I mean, maybe not then, but now—" he stopped and just ran a hand through that floppy hair.

"Now…?" He let the question trail.

"I want to. Maybe." The Doctor blurted, looking shocked at his own daring.

"Wow. Ok, this is serious. You waited till now to ask for advice? And why me—you mentioned an Amy a couple times."

He merely snorted. "Right, because talking to Amy Pond about this would end in something other than my humiliation. And anyway, she's convinced that River and I are- well, she calls her 'Mrs. Doctor from the Future' if that'll give you an idea." He buried his face in his hands briefly, clearly embarrassed at the admission. "She'd probably make me talk to River anyway—better yet she'd just tell her herself the next time we all meet up."

"It's not a terrible suggestion," he attempted to defend Amy Pond. "Talking to River, I mean. Where exactly is the lovely Dr. or Professor Song depending?"

"Stormcage if she's not off somewhere," the alien responded dismissively.

"Stormcage?" Jack echoed incredulously. It had been a long time since he'd heard of that place, not since before he'd first travelled in the TARDIS.

"Oh, did I not mention?" His friend did not seem nearly as perturbed as he ought to be. "Yes, she's in there for murder."

"What- who- how—" he didn't know what question to go with.

"She killed a man, I have my suspicions, and probably with that gun of hers," the Doctor obligingly answered them all. But that didn't leave him any less astounded.

"Doc, you hate guns."

"I know," he replied, looking almost grim. "That's the real thing I don't understand. She's so many things I wouldn't find, well, appealing. She's an archeologist, for God's sake!" And how was it that the man could sound more insulted about that than the guns. Or the murder. Then again, while the Doctor had killed certainly more than one man, as far as Jack was aware he'd never been an archeologist. "And it's not that I'm ok with the gun, Jack, but it's just she's got one and- and- I don't know—"

Jack smirked, "Maybe that's it, then. Maybe it's just the fact that she doesn't follow all your rules or treat you like the awe-inspiring Doctor. Not knowing everything's got to be kind of a nice break, and maybe a bit exciting?"

The Time Lord didn't answer that immediately, which made him grin. "Bit like fighting in the dark, really," he murmured at last.

"Who's fighting?"

"I am! Listen, I 'waited till now' to talk to someone about this cause I've been trying to ignore it. Get rid of it. This…feeling, is bad."

"And why is that?" He humored the alien, noting how he made the word 'feeling' sound like something unknown and dangerous.

The Doctor fixed him with a pointed look. "I would've thought you more than anyone would realize what the eventuality will be."

"And you should realize that I take a different approach to that eventuality," he replied. "I don't treat it like they're already dead." His friend actually flinched at that, his face paling considerably. "Wouldn't you feel better knowing you had something?" He tried more gently.

"I don't know," the Time Lord looked at the bar top as he finished off his drink. "I don't even know what that 'something' would be. She knows, and that is frightening. How can I know I'm not just thinking this or feeling this because I think I'm supposed to in the future? What if she's just tricking me?"

"Doc," he placed a steadying hand on the alien's shoulder, recognizing the ridiculous questions as the panic they were. "All women do that, not just ones that know your future. In fact, most men do that, too. Hell, she probably just feels like she has to play games to actually get your attention like that. It's normal."

"Really?" He still looked somewhat doubtful.

"Uh-huh. So here's my advice," he announced grandly. "Treat it like a normal relationship. I mean, nothing with you is normal, but I mean more try and look at the concept of a relationship like a normal person—and that means actually considering being in a relationship." That threshold was likely going to be hard enough to cross. "And then just go for it, but on your terms. Maybe Amy's right about your future or maybe it's just a bit of harmless flirting, but don't worry about it. If you want to kiss River Song, do it. Or maybe just flirt," he added hastily when the Doctor's eyes practically bugged out. "In fact, taking it slow is probably the best plan. It'll make that eventuality seem farther away at least."

To his great astonishment, his friend seemed to actually be considering his advice. "Ok," he decided at last. "Ok. That might work. I don't have to let her know, do I?" He worried.

"Um, no, usually the flirting takes care of that. Unless you want to take it past that."

"That's more than enough, I think," the Time Lord countered, and Jack barely kept from rolling his eyes. He had to wonder why River Song was bothering. Though, truth be told, why did any of them? And yet, this woman of all people was the one that turned the Doctor's head. He had to wonder if there was more to this than his friend was telling. "Well, thank you, Jack. That was very helpful. How can I ever repay you?"

"You could let me keep this," he joked, holding up the photo that had been sitting on the bar this whole time. It was snatched from his fingers before he could blink, and he only knew where it went because the alien carefully tucked it away in the pocket it had come from. He didn't even bother to hide his grin.

"This might be better, I think," the Time Lord said, removing a handful of bills and placing them on the bar. "On me." It was way more than enough, as usual when the Doctor ever tried to pay for something.

"Well then, I might have another," Jack motioned once more to the bartender. "You sure you don't want—" But when he looked back, the stool next to him was empty. Typical. When Jack received his drink he raised it to the vacant spot beside him. "To Mrs. Doctor from the Future—maybe."

OoO

Back in the Vortex, the Doctor contemplated the immortal man's advice. While Jack didn't know a lot of things about all this—he didn't personally know River, for one thing—it was probably the best he was going to get. And it made sense.

The Doctor wasn't usually an advocate for making sense, especially when it came to himself or what he might feel deep down. It just wasn't something a Time Lord did, particularly the Last.

But it wasn't just River who was getting to him. For the first time in his life he was in rather close contact with a pair of married humans, and somehow Amy and Rory made the whole concept of liking someone and doing something about it seem much less scary. Maybe it was the fact that their lives before and after marriage weren't really that different. They travelled, they ran around with and away from aliens, Amy still flirted, Rory was still a nurse. They hadn't stopped or changed, they were just considered in an official way 'together', but that hadn't made hardly a difference to them.

He'd always assumed before that relationships required you to change or sacrifice who you were for that other person, and couldn't understand why people in them insisted they were happy. He'd never truly been happy on Gallifrey. That was just another reason why he'd run, why he'd been running from feelings trying to trap him ever since.

But more and more over the course of his regenerations he'd been realizing the folly in that as well. He hadn't been lying to Kazran when he'd told him that in hindsight pathetic story about him and the construction of the sonic. A mistake, he'd called it. Perhaps trying to fight whatever this was with River was a mistake as well.

He wasn't about to give in that easily, of course. There was no way that woman was going to see him begging for her attention or feelings. After all, when it came to himself he might be able to trust her, but everything else was up in the air. He had no guarantee keeping her around Amy and Rory would be safe for them, or anyone in the future. There was so much she refused to tell him.

He couldn't ignore the thrill of seeing her, of spending time with her, or how easily the endearment "honey" had rolled off his tongue and how he'd sort of wanted her to be saying yes to both his questions after the wedding.

Perhaps he could just test the waters for now—though he cringed at the unintentional pun—be a bit more open, say more of the things he wanted to say. He could see how she reacted to that and go from there. His own terms, as Jack had put it.

No sooner than he had come to that tentative conclusion did the psychic paper heat up, causing him to jump before retrieving it. Hello Sweetie, read the now familiar words, along with coordinates. He felt a smile come to his face as he hurried to enter them in.

River was through the door barely before his ship had finished materializing, gun out and hair a wild mass of curls around her face. She slammed the doors shut and locked them, leaning against the wood and breathing heavily.

"Dr. River Song," he pronounced clearly, standing at the top of the steps with one foot crossed behind the other and an arm braced on the railing. Her eyes darted up to his face and he grinned. "Hello."

She had a curious light to her eyes now, but her lips curled into a smile. "Hello."

And neither really was just saying hello.

Ok, so here I am surprised at myself because what I intended to be a simple kind of crack oneshot turned into an actual (plausible?) fic, maybe. Ah well, that's how it's going to stay. I'd be very interested to hear what you guys have to say. Thanks very much for reading, and please review!