So I still have two multi-chapter fics that I should be working on, but I wanted to write this. River recognized Ten in the Library immediately, without his TARDIS, and I think that they probably met at least once before he regenerated into Eleven. This was supposed to be platonic Ten/River, but I sort of couldn't resist...
Enjoy!
He got the message on the psychic paper at precisely 1:07 AM. Donna was gone, and he had been not-quite paying attention to the chick flick that they'd been planning to watch (before metacrisises and Daleks and bloody stupid Time Lords who couldn't say what they felt), and then he'd felt a little hum from his pocket and he'd dug it out.
Asgard. Come as soon as you can. x
It was the same slanty writing, the same little "x" that had been in the first note, and the Doctor pocketed the paper and sighed.
"Well," he said in an empty, tired voice, "maybe some other day."
Somewhere, in the part of him that was this body and this mind, an undeniable love for Rose still consumed him-the girl seared onto his hearts. And he wasn't about to go larking about with some curly-haired archaeologist who scared the hell out of him.
He got up. "You know what sounds fun?" he said to the TARDIS. "Avoiding Asgard and going and getting-"
Chips. The thought of chips sort of punched him in the stomach. Whenever he had a sentence like that Rose would jump up from wherever she was sitting and shriek Chips! Ooh, chips! Let's see if we can find a new place for chips!
"Cookies," the Doctor muttered petulantly. "I like cookies."
No you don't, Spaceman, you just don't want to get chips for some alien reason. You always make a face when I bake cookies. Now it was Donna's playfully impatient voice that responded to him. The Doctor sat back down and sighed.
You all right? Martha asked him gently.
He groaned softly, burying his face in his hands and trying not to think of all the people he missed so much.
Hey, Doc, how's going out for a drink sound? I think Rose is still asleep, and there's this great little place in 1937…
Look, Spaceman, I get that you're an alien and all, but normal people SLEEP when it's one in the morning!
Doctor? Are you still awake? Just…turn off the light when you're done, okay? I want to get some sleep. You said you'd take me home in time for my medical exams.
You look upset. You want me to make you a pot of tea? Mum says that tea always helps, and she's right…Remember?
Hi! blared his own voice, and the Doctor jumped (Metacrisis? Back? ROSE?) before realizing that it was simply the answering machine, which he hadn't bothered to change the message of in a long time. You've reached the TARDIS, I'm the Doctor, leave a message at the tone! …What? Oh yeah, Rose is here too if you want to talk to her, I think, but we're-oh, wait, we're recording an answering message, so you can't really talk to her, but she lives on the TARDIS too so you can leave a message for her here…And Mickey! No, I swear I didn't forget about you. Yeah, anyway, leave a message at the tone-Rose! Don't touch that! You might steer the TARDIS into the wall of the Time Vortex! …Yes, the Time Vortex has a wall, what sort of question is that? Okay, I've gotta go save us from certain destruction-leave a mess-oh, that's bad, that's really bad-ROSE!
The Doctor sighed.
"Hello, sweetie," came a voice, and the Doctor stared incredulously at the answering machine. "Well, it's me, it's River, and even though you never answer your phone-hell, you're probably sitting by the answering machine and sulking about something or other-I thought I'd leave you a message. It's been five minutes, I've set up the entire picnic, and don't give me that idiotic nonsense about having a time machine and not having to come exactly when I call-you and I both know that you're rubbish at flying the TARDIS exactly right. Hurry up."
He pulled out the psychic paper again.
Asgard. Come as soon as you can. x
Maybe sulking could wait.
He landed the TARDIS and opened the doors. Asgard was a sandy planet, flat and characterless except for its many large lakes. No trees, no anything, just emptiness. Sort of how he felt right now.
River was sitting on the picnic blanket and pouring herself a glass of wine. At the sound of the engines she had most likely looked up, but he saw her visibly deflate as he stepped out of the TARDIS.
"Hello," he said awkwardly. "Nice to see you again."
Now there was a bit of a relieved air about her as she smiled at him and stood up. "Hello, sweetie. New face?" she asked, a note of hope in her voice.
He shook his head. "Fairly old, actually. Have you-not seen this face before?"
"No," she said softly. Then, "You know that means that you aren't going to see me again with those pretty-boy eyes."
The Doctor laughed a bit apprehensively, and then asked, "What makes you say that?"
"We're all back-to-front," River explained. "Your future's my past, your firsts are my lasts." The second sentence was spoken with ruefulness. "Tell me this, Doctor-how many times have you met me before now?"
"Once," he replied, and at her (badly disguised) look of horror he added hastily, "But when we met, you said that the last time you'd seen me was when I'd taken you to the S-to somewhere, and I've not been there with you before, so you're probably going to see me again. Not like this, though."
River sighed, and then she asked, "Would you like some wine?"
The Doctor nodded absentmindedly, sitting down and pouring a glass of wine before taking a sip. He then spat it neatly back into the glass before looking sheepishly up at River. "Sorry."
She smiled broadly. "Some things never change," she said softly, taking a small sandwich and nibbling delicately at it. "So how are you doing? Where's your companion at?"
The Doctor shoved an entire small sandwich in his mouth to avoid having to answer the question. When he'd finally swallowed it, he said cheerfully, "So! Any particular reason for picking Asgard of all places?"
"Donna's gone, isn't she?" asked River softly, taking his hand in hers, and he was sort of aware how clumsily his hand fit around hers. His hand was too big and her fingers were too long and nothing seemed to work about it.
"How did you know?" he responded tiredly.
"I noticed that you're wearing the tie she bought you."
"And how do you know that it's the tie she bought me? I have loads of ties."
"Because," River replied, taking his other hand in hers (and here he had to gently remove it. There was something uncomfortably romantic about this whole situation), "you told me when we were in the wardrobe room together, trying to find you a new bow tie-"
"Ick, a bow tie? Why would I want to wear a bow tie?" River laughed, then started laughing even harder, then burst into a fit of hysterical laughter that lasted for about two minutes. When it finally died down, the Doctor asked bemusedly, "What was that about?"
"Spoilers," River replied breathlessly.
"Again with the spoilers!" said the Doctor in exasperation. "Where did you get that from?"
"Sweetie, if I told you everything about me, you'd probably change the future in order to avoid me, and neither of us will want that to happen." She took a sip of wine.
"Fine," said the Doctor. "Fine. Then tell me the things about you that you don't think are important. Like-um-what's your favorite color?"
"Green," River replied.
"Okay. See? That's nice. That's normal. That's not spoilers, is it?"
River's joyous smile was fading sadly. "Not spoilers, no."
"Great, then. How about favorite flower?"
"You know all of this, in the future," said River ever so softly. "I never asked why. My favorite flower…" She smiled, as if remembering something. "Always going to be daisies."
"Oh," said the Doctor. "What about your favorite food?"
"Jammie dodgers," said River, looking away from him for a second. "Jammie dodgers. Have you ever had a jammie dodger?"
"No," the Doctor replied. "Why? Are they good?"
River smiled broadly, her eyes sparkling, and she jumped up, pulling him with her, their hands feeling wrong together. The only hand that had ever fit perfectly in his was Rose's, and he'd suspected that it was due to the time energy he'd absorbed to save her life. He'd had a bit of her in the residual energy that had cost him his ninth life, and it had created him into a man born to love Rose Marion Tyler.
"Here," she said, digging in the picnic basket and handing him a small plastic bag jam-packed (no pun intended) with jammie dodgers.
"They're nice," said the Doctor with a shrug after taking a bite. "Nothing to get all excited about. Very…jammy."
River smiled, and then she said cheerfully, "I plan to use that against you someday, Doctor. 'Jammie dodgers are very jammy.' Most intelligent thing I've heard you say in centuries."
"Centuries?" he sputtered. "How can-who-how-you-"
"Spoilers," she purred, taking a jammie dodger.
"Can you stop with the flirting already?" said the Doctor in exasperation. "You should get together with Captain Jack some time; you'd give him a run for his money."
"Oh, I already have met him," River replied with a smug grin. "Best night of my life. No, that's a lie, best night of my life was probably that one with you…here, actually. Funny, we came here a lot. You took me here all the time. That is, you're going to take me here all the time."
"Time can be rewritten," the Doctor mumbled rather petulantly.
"Just you try," River replied with a laugh in her eyes. "Just you try."
"Okay, back to getting to know you." He kept a platonic-y distance between them, moving backwards for every inch that she moved closer to him. "What's your favorite thing to do?"
"I'm an archaeologist," she said, as if this explained everything, and at the Doctor's groan she hit him lightly. "Stop it. It's your fault I'm an archaeologist anyway. Gave me something to do in prison, anyway. I studied a lot."
Figures. The woman I may or may not end up marrying is flirty, annoying, possibly a criminal, and an archaeologist, although those last two are a bit redundant. The Doctor sighed. "So you like history, then?"
"All sorts of history," she replied. "Although I'm quite partial to Earth history in particular, I enjoy studying the similarities in galaxial cultures."
"Galaxial?"
"51st-century archaeologists group planets by galaxies. Makes things easier to sort. You want to find a planet, all you have to do is remember what galaxy it's in. You'd be surprised at all the common threads through planets in the same galaxy. The Volitional Galaxy never even invented weaponries."
"Ah," said the Doctor, who already knew that. "But galaxial? Sounds like something a five-year-old would come up with."
River rolled her eyes. "Actually," she replied, "I was the one who was supposed to decide the name, and you came up with it."
"Oh, so I regenerate into a five-year-old?" the Doctor teased lightly, finding a small smile come to his face in spite of himself and noticing River's eyes light up. He realized distantly that it was the first time he had really smiled at her. I can smile at her, can't I? Not my problem now. Next regeneration I have to deal with it, and that could be centuries away. She isn't my wife. "Aren't you the one who always says 'spoilers?' Isn't that a rather important spoiler?"
"Actually," River replied, "try a twelve-year-old with a penchant for acquiring rather unattractive hats."
"Like what?"
"Spoilers."
"Oh, now unimportant details are spoilers. Okay."
"Should I give you a lift home?" he asked at the end of the day, when the sun had finally set and River's face was halfway in shadow.
She shook her head in response. "I'm fine. I have a vortex manipulator."
They'd talked for hours, and the Doctor had found it bittersweet. He'd made a friend, and yet she could tell him next to nothing about her life, about her history. All it had been was playful banter and him learning the trivial details about her.
She always carried a gun, no matter what the circumstances, and she hated wearing jewelry aside from a thin wedding band that sort of made the Doctor's stomach twist (seeing as he had seen that ring in one of the many jewelry boxes that the TARDIS had for some reason, and it had caught his attention since it was so simple), and she loved laughing, mostly at him, and she never ever gave up on him (although that last one he had just inferred, as he'd caught sight of the way she looked at him when she thought that he was preoccupied with the mini-sandwiches), and he was extremely afraid of falling in love with her, because he knew that he was going to love River just as much as he loved Rose now.
It would be a different man who would fall in love with River Song, he knew that, but the love he held for Rose had survived a regeneration due to the fact that she had been there, making his life just a little bit pink-and-yellow-er, smiling at him so beautifully. He would never see Rose with the eyes that would see River. Rose would be just a blip in his life, fondly remembered on a rainy day.
And right now, she was both of his hearts, his reason to keep living, and he never wanted to let her go.
River leaned up and gave him a clumsy hug before pulling away. She sort of bumped into him strangely when they touched, something about it odd and out-of-place, maybe that she loved his future and he loved his past.
"You'll get through this," she told him gently, her hand moving to his cheek, and he was reminded of the Library and what would come for her so soon. He sighed. She continued, "I know it seems hard, now, but you'll get through this, and live, and be happy."
"And be galaxial?"
"You're using the word in the wrong context, sweetie," River chided him with a laugh, moving away and typing something into her vortex manipulator before vanishing in a puff of smoke.
He could still feel her warm hand on his cheek for days afterward.
When he regenerated, when he crashed into the swimming pool, he almost didn't want to resurface. All he could think of was the mad desperation he had once possessed, to keep loving Rose Tyler no matter what the cost, and what River had told him.
And he could already feel it starting, the forgetting. Rose was a dream now, a distant echo, someone that he couldn't quite remember. Almost angelic. He could only remember the good things about her, and that scared him. He knew that real people had faults…was Rose even real?
What were Rose's faults? He couldn't remember anymore. He remembered being annoyed with her sometimes, but about what?
He resolved to avoid River Song. Time and evidence and the love that radiated from her was so not the boss of him.
And then he was in a museum with Amy and he read the words in Old High Gallifreyan and how the bloody hell did she know Old High Gallifreyan? It didn't make sense. She didn't make sense. But they'd met twice, and both times she'd said those exact words, and centuries of time traveling had taught him that there was no such thing as a coincidence.
"Why are we doing this?" Amy demanded as they dashed into the TARDIS with the homing box.
Because my friend-of-sorts who I am determined not to fall in love with is possibly in trouble and I am not going to fall in love with her. Did I mention that? "Because someone on a spaceship twelve thousand years ago is trying to attract my attention. Let's see if we can get the security playback working."
She winked at the camera.
She winked at the camera.
And in this body, with this mind, his hearts did an involuntary little flip-flop that not even Rose Tyler had managed to provoke.
He didn't know it then, but resistance was futile.
When he stretched out his hand, when she fell into his arms, he realized grudgingly that she fit. More naturally than Rose, and as he fell to the floor of the TARDIS time seemed to slow, seeing as he could feel River's sharp gasp and her arms around his shoulders and he felt like he'd found his missing piece.
In his tenth body, every time they touched it had felt wrong. Her nails had scraped his palm and her hand had been too warm and everything about her made him feel a bit off. He'd loved Rose Tyler then.
And now, now he'd met Amy, and Rose Tyler had faded, as he knew she would, and he didn't feel sad or guilty about it. He still loved her, of course, but he knew that she was happy and that was enough for him. Rose was a dream now, a vague but pleasant memory.
He didn't trust River, of course he didn't. She was sort of his friend, not really, and she was damn annoying when she flounced in with her curls and flew his TARDIS better than him. But she was also soft (as he'd discovered when she fell on top of him in that gorgeous black dress) and beautiful (with or without makeup and high heels) and clever (annoyingly so) and so could you really blame him for being attracted to her?
He didn't know it then, but he was falling in love with her, and running wasn't going to save him this time.
He met her again, and she was dressed as Cleopatra, and he was ashamed to admit that all he wanted to do was hold her hand and pull her close and pull that wig off and run his free hand through her hair, her real hair, and stoppit not platonic-y she's just a really annoyingly clever friend.
She had a look in her eyes, though, like she knew.
The next time she touched him was when she slapped him. He had to take a moment to collect himself, seeing as the place on his cheek where she'd slapped him sort of felt like she'd just kissed him instead, and it was stupid. They were friends, sort of, and nothing more, and also she'd just slapped him and he was pretty sure that it wasn't out of love. Exasperation, more like.
So why didn't the feeling of her hand on his cheek go away, and why couldn't he stop imagining her lips in that same spot instead?
"Oh, and this is my friend River," he babbled, looking at the Silence, not sure why he was talking about her when he really should be working on saving the world instead. "Nice hair, clever, has her own gun, and unlike me, she really doesn't mind shooting people. I shouldn't like that." (oh no don't say it you stupid time lord) "Kind of do, a bit." (damn it)
"Thank you, sweetie!" River replied, and he could hear surprise and delight and gratification in her voice, and he suddenly had a surge of confidence as she came a bit closer. Her presence was almost intoxicating.
"I know you're team players and everything," the Doctor continued, "but she'll definitely kill at least the first three of you."
Her curls brushed his back. "Oh, the first seven, easily."
"Seven? Really?" he said in vague astonishment, not that surprised. She could do anything she wanted to and she was really really pretty right now and that is really not platonic-y stop thinking that right now.
"Oh, eight for you, honey," she replied gaily, glancing over at him.
"Stop it." Don't ever stop it.
"Make me," she purred, and he almost couldn't breathe. She was back-to-back with him and her head rested on his shoulder.
"Yeah, well, maybe I will," he replied, his hands flapping about uselessly. Oh, he was rubbish at flirting. Maybe he should have flirted with Rose a bit more, just so that he wouldn't be so out of practice.
"Is this really important flirting?" Amy called in exasperation, and the Doctor's stupid little grin faded. "Because I feel like I should be higher on the list right now."
"Yes. Right. Sorry."
"You could come with us," he said, not able to stop himself, still in denial.
Sheesh, Spaceman, he heard Donna say, for the first time in years, and he could almost see her rolling her eyes and smirking at the pair of them, tactfulness be damned. Denial isn't just a river in Egypt.
River smiled a little sadly. "I escape often enough, thank you. And I have a promise to live up to." She reached out and straightened his bow tie. "You'll understand soon enough."
"Okay," he said, trying not to feel too rejected. "Up to you." He turned away, striding back to the TARDIS, slowly, in case she changed her mind.
Like Rose.
Although River Song was anything but.
"What, that's it?" River laughed softly. He turned, striding back, slowly, vaguely noticing a funny jumpy feeling in his stomach. A good one, though. Still, why was she calling him back? "What's the matter with you?"
"Have I forgotten something?" he asked, puzzled.
"Oh," said River, shaking her head as if she couldn't believe him, smiling lovingly, and saying simply "shut up."
And she leaned forward, and her hand was at the back of his neck, and she was kissing him, her mouth soft and warm, and she tasted of blueberries and rain for some reason. The first kiss in a very long time where he was kissing someone that he was falling in love with (what the hell, there was no point in denying it anymore anyway, she was bloody kissing him). His eyes drifted shut of their own volition. Should I put my hand at her waist, or her shoulder? His left hand hovered awkwardly, sort of flailing a bit, before moving to her bare shoulder. He found that it was actually very nice to kiss River Song-
oh my.
Her hand moved from his neck to his cheek to his waist, tugging him to her, and the surprise of fitting in her arms instead of the other way around made his hands jerk up, down, up, down, and up before deciding to go behind his back where they wouldn't do as much damage.
It was odd. With Rose, it had been her in his arms, him encircling her, protecting her, making sure that her innocence and love and bravery wasn't harmed in any way. But River was the first woman that he had met who tried to protect him and succeeded.
It was River doing the fighting, River shielding him, River holding him, River, River, River.
And for the life of him he couldn't understand why he'd been fighting this. A second spent in River's arms was worth a century of the heartbreak she was going to cause him… Rassilon he was stupidly romantic. He pulled away. She had a soft smile on her face, tender, open almost. It disarmed him.
"Right," he mumbled, half to himself. "Okay. Interesting." Not so much the kiss. Rassilon, he had loved that kiss (so much for platonic and so much for running; now he knew why River had had that laugh in her eyes when he'd said that time could be rewritten. All his running from her had only led him to her. River Song was going to break his hearts when she left.). What unsettled him was that open smile that didn't belong on the face of a bad girl and a murderer. He scratched his face.
"What's wrong?" River asked him softly, her hand still hovering where it had been cupping his face only moments before. Her smile had faded. He hated himself for making it fade. "You're acting like we've never done that before."
"We haven't," said the Doctor very fast, trying to get it over with, scratching his head now and feeling very awkward.
"We haven't?" River repeated, sounding horrified yet soft, as if she was desperately hoping it was a dream. (The Doctor, on the other hand, knew it had to be a dream, seeing as he hadn't been this lucky or this happy in years, even if he didn't trust her or know her.)
"Oh, look at the time, must be off," said the Doctor, slowly moving backwards towards the TARDIS. "It was-very nice, it was-it was good, it was-ah, unexpected-"He knew that he was starting to smile a little bit, trying to make her smile as well. He turned away from her, not wanting to see that sad look on her face, not wanting to comprehend the mystery of River Song quite yet. "You know what they say," he added, turning away from the half-open TARDIS door, a nervous smile on his face. "There's a first time for everything."
And he shut the door behind him and thought Yes!
The next time he kissed her was about three days after Demons Run, when he was supposed to be looking for Melody. She'd jumped off of a building, he'd caught her, he'd suggested that they go to the beach on Dextrus 4, and then they'd spent the next two days trying to escape the Dextrus 4 monarchy, who (due to the Doctor's supremely bad piloting skills) had chosen him to be the next wife of an alien prince, and not even extremely diplomatic River (who was shooting everything and everyone that came near the Doctor on sight) could convince the alien prince that the Doctor was male. River thought it was hysterical until the prince ordered his guards to execute both her and the Doctor.
"This is your fault!" she hissed to the Doctor, both of them hiding behind the small gap between the TARDIS and the palace wall, her pressed not-at-all uncomfortably up against him. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she was wearing a dark blue dress that ended at her knees and really suited her for adventuring. (Not to mention that it didn't look half unattractive and it nicely emphasized her curves, although the Doctor didn't need much help to notice things like that when it came to River.) "You were all, 'Oh, let's go to Dextrus 4 and have fun on the beach! Wouldn't it be fun? Oh, whoops, dropped myself in the middle of the wife-choosing ceremony, and everyone in that room is supposed to be female!' You should have let me pilot the TARDIS this time!"
"Please," the Doctor snorted. "You never listen to where I want to go. You always take us where you want to go."
"That's just because you're supremely bad at choosing good places to go!"
"You just think that because you think I'm stupid!" he muttered, glancing furtively at one of the open archways. No one coming.
"Sweetie, face the facts, you are stupid! You just piloted the TARDIS into the middle of a wife-choosing ceremony and now the entire planet of Dextrus 4 is going to be on the lookout for you!"
"For this face, River! Once I regenerate, I can come here whenever I want!" the Doctor replied angrily.
"Yes, and you'll just do something stupid again!" River shouted, her voice echoing through the corridor and making the Doctor jump.
"They'll hear you!" he whispered furiously. "Shut up!"
"Make me!" River yelled, her curls bouncing a little.
The Doctor was a logical person by nature, and in the space of a second he came to these conclusions.
A. River Song was asking him to make her shut up.
B. When one is kissing someone, they aren't able to talk.
C. Therefore, the only logical thing to do in this situation was to kiss River Song.
His hands tangled in her hair and he kissed her roughly, mostly to shut her up, but when she responded with surprising enthusiasm and her hands moved to cup his face he forgot entirely about the life-and-death situation. All that existed was River, Melody, and now that he knew who she was he could offer her his hearts.
True, he didn't completely trust her, but he knew more of her now, and somehow that made it okay to kiss her, to hold her, to show her that he was learning to love her. That she might just be both of his hearts, his reason to keep living, and…and he never wanted to let her go.
Like Rose.
Except not like Rose at all. Not so angelic, not so good, and yet sometimes when he looked into her eyes he saw an astounding purity there, something pure and true that seemed to overwhelm everything else about her. River the mystery.
His mystery.
"God, I missed you," he gasped when he'd pulled away.
Really? he heard Donna say sarcastically. I hadn't noticed. Tone it down a bit, Spaceman.
River grinned in response, successfully quieted, and then she slapped him. "This still is your fault," she whispered with a glare, before wrapping her arms around his waist and kissing him again.
He took her to Asgard that night, brought a green picnic blanket and daisies and jammie dodgers, and her whole face lit up. She asked him how he'd known, and he responded with a grin and "Spoilers." She'd hit him with her bouquet of daisies for using her word. He'd pointed out that he'd been the one to introduce her to said word in the first place. She'd ungracefully conceded.
They spent the entire night under the stars, and this time, the first time in years (the first time in this body at any rate), it went further than kissing.
Quite a bit further, actually, and it was scary and wonderful at the same time. He'd had a feeling, back when he'd first met her, that making love to River might happen, but he hadn't considered that he might love her when it did.
"The universe is never this wonderful," he mumbled to River under the night sky, both of them wrapped in an extra blanket, her curled in the crook of his arm and smiling contentedly up at him.
"What do you mean, my love?" she asked him softly, her hand reaching to trace his jawline.
"I always muck things up," he sighed. "Romance."
"Like what?"
"Rose," he said softly, surprised at his own admission, surprised that it was so easy to talk to River. He knew that if it was Rose here right now he wouldn't be able to tell her about the women he had loved and lost. "Rose Tyler."
The name felt wrong on his lips.
"Rose Tyler," River repeated. "Nice name."
"She-she was my first companion. After the Time War. She healed me."
"Ah. What was she like?"
"Brave," said the Doctor. "Compassionate. Caring. Loving. Beautiful. I don't remember her as well as I used to. Never seen her with these eyes."
River sighed. "Not like me, then?"
"What makes you say that?"
"Brave," River echoed. "Compassionate. Caring, loving, beautiful."
"Since when are you not any of those things?" asked the Doctor in amusement.
She laughed bitterly. "I'm scared, sometimes."
"Course you are," said the Doctor gently, his amused smile vanishing, turning a bit so that he was nose-to-nose with River. "We all are. I am. I'm scared as hell that I'll lose you, or Amy, or Rory, and never be able to see you again. I'm scared that someday I'll die and not be able to regenerate, that someday I won't succeed in saving Earth and it'll implode in my face. But I still do what's right, even though I'm scared of my own shadow."
"Really?" asked River in hushed awe, her eyes wide, and he could swear that the entire world lay in those eyes. He remembered another day in Asgard, a lifetime ago, where she'd been guarded and he'd been naïve and they'd been wasting their precious time together.
He nodded gently.
She whispered his name, and then, "I can't imagine you ever being scared."
He gave a little start, and then he pulled her closer.
"What?"
"You-you said my name."
"That I did."
"You-how do you know my name?"
"How do you think?" she asked quietly. "You told me."
"When?"
"My first night in Stormcage," she said.
"Do you say it to me, a lot, in my future?" he asked softly. "I'll never get tired of hearing you say it."
She smiled. "I love you."
"I love you," he echoed, and he knew that he would say it again soon, because then he got one of River's I-love-you-too-much-to-put-into-words-right-now smiles, complete with the tender look in her eyes.
She kissed him. He died, a little, inside. He couldn't imagine his life without her.
And then she pulled away and said his name again, a little louder, and he said in response, "I love you, Melody Pond," and she gave him her special smile again.
He woke in the early morning with the cacophony of voices in his head again.
Well, Doctah, I…she…I hope you're happy. With her.
Oh! Doctor! You're in a relationship now…
I'm glad to see you happy, Spaceman.
Wow, Doc, she's some hot stuff.
He uttered a choked sob into River's hair, remembering his friends, the family he'd left behind, and she opened her eyes and held him.
Just like that.
He closed his eyes. It had been so long since he'd been comforted.
When he was finally able to look up at her, she just smiled and whispered, "I think that this was the best night of my life."
…best night of my life was probably that one with you…here, actually. Funny, we came here a lot. You took me here all the time. That is, you're going to take me here all the time.
The Doctor smiled. "I'm going to have to take you here again, then."
Reviews? Thoughts?
-The Eclectic Bookworm