And here we are on the final page… even if I'm a bit embarrassed this took me so long to post...

Thanks to everyone who read and commented - it means a lot to me that this strange little story got so much love.

Epilogue: Story Time at Christmas

Even after almost six hundred years, story time always was best part of Christmas. He let his voice fade softer as he drew the tale to a close, smiling in satisfaction at the huddled children sitting quietly, their eyes wide and mouths open slightly in awe as they listened. Unwilling to break the mood, he stayed quiet until one small voice piped up.

"You really saved the Princess with words?"

A reluctant grin tugged at the Doctor's lips. There was always one little doubting Thomas in the crowd, even if this time, her name was Liz. The youngest of the listeners in the room, one of the ones who hadn't heard this story before… and he winked at her, even as the older kids giggled.

"Not exactly," he said. "With a kiss, too."

Liz gave him an unimpressed look, her small brow furrowed; and he fought back the urge to laugh. He always found them, didn't he? The ones who were ginger and questioning… it was good combination, no matter what planet he was on.

"Time Lords," said the Doctor. "We're a clever bunch. Even before looming, we knew that the exposure to the Vortex -especially if it was concentrated through a TARDIS- was powerful. And when you combine that with the mental power of a Time Lord, actively focused upon a single thought… which in this case, was thinking of River finding her way back to me…

"Well," said the Doctor, giving a tiny shrug. "The explanation isn't words or kisses or all the bits of her past that I found. Really, it's all just very," he waved his hand around, searching for the right word, "science-y."

"Sounds like magic," a familiar voice muttered from the back of the room.

"There's no such thing as magic!" Liz corrected heatedly.

"There isn't," agreed the Doctor. "But sometimes you get lucky. Without explanations or theory… on one day out of a thousand… sometimes, you get something even more special than magic.

"Sometimes," said the Doctor, looking around the room, an avuncular smile on his face, "you find a miracle."

The younger children looked around, squinting with confusion; but the older children-the ones who had lived through siege after siege on the little town of Christmas that still managed to thrive- just nodded. Sometimes, miracles do happen; and especially for those connected with the Doctor.

"That's still not a good way to end a story," said Liz. She was pouting, just slightly. "Saying that maybe it was magic or just a miracle… won't you tell us what happened after that? Was it a happy ending?"

"Oh," said the Doctor, "what happened next is a tale for another time. About a planet that had to be saved, and three Doctors who worked together and a Wolf who wasn't really bad at all, but part of an interface. And then I came here, to Christmas. Which is another story in itself…"

"No," Liz interrupted. "I didn't mean what happened to you after that. I meant what happened with River?"

The Doctor blushed. Some stories are not to be told to young ears; and especially what happened between him and his wife right after she came back to him.

"Umm," he said, playing for time. "A lot of things." A lot of things, and a lot of time spent tangled together in bed, not sleeping. Whispered confidences and soothing kisses, as they shared the realisations on how their stories had unfolded, connected and yet separate. And then traveling with his wife and their beautiful, meddling TARDIS; his ship's hums and whishes and electronic beeping sounding almost smug that her child and her thief were together again.

"But like what?" Liz persisted. "Did River travel with you? Did you find the imp in Camden? And what happened to Clara? Was she alright in the end, all put-back-together?"

"Ah." He was faintly relieved about what she'd meant. "Those things. Well, I did find the imp. Lucky I did; she might have been my only Companion who ever actually did what I told her to and didn't wander off. So when I explained that one day, if she followed the instructions and acted as my guide that she wouldn't only be an echo anymore. I told her I'd save her… and I did.

"And then Clara, my real Clara." He frowned for a moment, remembering the last time he'd seen her. It had hurt, tricking her into leaving to save her, but it was for the best. The imp had said once that a great man had given her hope for what tomorrow could bring, and he hoped that he really had sent her off to the great things that could be in her future.

"Well," continued the Doctor, "she's the type to want stability. I guess that maybe part of her remembers being all taken apart…anyway, River had told me she'd want to have a proper boring job and a flat of her own; even if I still don't understand why she'd like that… So I found her a job at a school I had connections with, which made her feel a lot better about when she travelled with me. She said it was like going on a holiday weekend, but longer and further away, more danger and adventure and fun. And the TARDIS liked her a lot better when that she wasn't as impossible anymore. Didn't even delete her bedroom anymore.

"And River…" He smiled helplessly. "She went back to work at the Luna University. Part-time only, because I didn't want her so far away anymore. But the rest of days and nights… well. Lots of time to make up for. History to write and rearrange. Books that had previously only existed in the Library to make come true, about the whereabouts of River Song."

"So," Liz beamed, "it was a happy ending! Everyone was saved and lived all peaceful and happy ever after!"

"Well," drawled a quiet voice from the corner. "The Doctor and I had a good friend once. And Gil used to say that the wise old fairy tales never were so silly as to say that the prince and princess lived peacefully ever afterwards."

He'd known she was there for part of the story. Watching and listening from the shadows; but still, the Doctor's face actually hurt from how wide his grin was when he turned his head slightly to see his wife, fresh from her evening security patrol of Christmas' perimeter. Her curls were all over the place, her cheeks slightly flushed, and her eyes glowing with enough of a predatory light that he felt almost sorry for whoever had tried to sneak onto Trenzalore when she was there to stop them.

He might not be able to come and go when he liked, but his wife had never been one to follow rules. Even the Library and Stormcage hadn't been enough to keep her in, and Trenzalore couldn't hold her out… and with the forbidden technology of her vortex manipulator on her wrist and her blaster in its holster, River Song did as she pleased when it came to protecting who and what she chose.

He sort of adored that about her… no, that wasn't the right word. He loved that about her. He loved her.

"The fairy tales," he told the children, holding out his hand in invitation to River, "said that the prince and princess lived happily ever afterwards; and so they did. They lived happily, although it is very likely that from time to time they threw the furniture at each other."

"Or told each other to shut up," said River, a smirk on her lips.

"While one of them shot hats for target practice," he taunted.

"And the other had no sense of direction."

The children giggled; and River laughed outright, coming over to perch next to him in his chair. The Doctor put his arms around her, turning to look back at their audience.

"When I started this story, I told you that it was about a lonely Lord, and a Lady trapped and lost in a prison. He had to rescue her and she had to redeem him; and in the process of doing that, they managed to save each other and be saved themselves. But every story has an ending and a moral, and for this story, perhaps it's this… Sometimes the biggest sacrifices mean the best rewards, and it's amazing the things one is willing to do or possibly give up for love. And in the end, whatever had happened, and whatever will..."

His words cut off in an awkward squeak when River leaned over to kiss his cheek with exaggerated patience. The children giggled again, and the Doctor grinned foolishly at them, then his wife.

"Are you telling me to stop talking, River?" he teased.

"More like, telling you to cut to the song, sweetie. We know what the ending will be."

His smile faltered for a moment. For a thousand years she'd stand by his side at the siege, she'd told him soon after she'd been saved. Maybe she'd forgotten, but he hadn't. Six hundred years had already passed; and he knew what was going to happen eventually.

The fall of the Eleventh.

River wriggled against him, her hand slipping into his. "I see another one," she whispered, so softly that the children couldn't hear. "Another grey hair. They do make you look," her lips twitched into a smirk, "distinguished."

"They make me look old," hissed the Doctor, his vanity stung. She never seemed to age, although he did; and she'd laughed about his hair a few times already. Always when she'd newly returned from outside Trenzalore; and always with a sly, sidelong look.

"I stand by my word," murmured his wife, leaning her head against his shoulder. "They make you look distinguished. Maybe a little dangerous… and I do love you like that."

Somehow, River always said the right thing; and his fingers tightened on hers, his smile returning.

It didn't matter, what might be coming in another few hundred years. The fall of the Eleventh, a final battle at Trenzalore, his wife at his side until the end; it was all still in the future, and sometimes he wondered about the smirk River wore, as though she had a secret… but she was River Song, and when didn't she have spoilers?

It was far better to focus on the good things and the occasional miracle. Her saving him and him saving her, as they'd always done. Even this, holding Christmas together… because the imp had been right, the Doctor thought, pulling River even closer than she had been, taking comfort in his wife's warm presence at his side, the children watching expectantly.

Whatever would come, he wasn't alone anymore. And he could face it all.

"Alright," he admitted simply. "It's true. They lived happily ever after."

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