120(G)

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                    River of Flowers
                         betawho

They were walking down a river of flowers. Something in the soil here caused the flowers to grow together in a stream, meandering off through the tall forest like a watercourse.

Brilliant reds and oranges and pinks, with the occasional scattered purple bloom as big as an end table.

The Doctor was holding her hand. He'd been doing that a lot since Manhattan.

River shook those thoughts out of her head. She'd delivered the manuscript, posting it to Amy at the address the Tardis databanks had given them, and setting up a post office box so they'd at least have that point of contact.

Then she and the Doctor had gone away.

There was, even for time travelers, nowhere to go but forward.

So, here they were, in a twilight wood, with dotted blinking stars of luminescent insects bobbing through the still air, shafts of sunlight blazoning the flowers in crimson banners of light, and the sweet scent of blooms and approaching rain.

He squeezed her hand tighter. She squeezed back. Sometimes even Time Lords needed a hand to hold onto.

She leaned up on tiptoe and kissed him on the side of the jaw. His head came up from its drooping contemplation. He smiled at her wanly, trying to pull out of his depression, his dark eyes old in his young face.

"It will be okay, Sweetie," River said.

He smiled a little more encouragingly at her. "I know," he said in his dark, sad voice. "It's just hard."

He looked off among the trees, long distances, especially on this large world, but, like life, you could never see too far, there were always trees in the way.

He wrapped a long arm around River and pulled her close to his side. She laid her head on his shoulder. He wasn't the only one who had lost someone.

A stream trickled by on their right, beyond a line of trees. A violet bird flushed out of a bush. A tiny gray, foxlike creature ended its pounce in the flowers, and glared after the escaping bird. It shivered its fur in a fluff of disgust, and hopped back off into the bushes.

The Doctor chuckled in his throat for the look of disdain on the kit's face.

He dropped a kiss on his wife's curls.

An explosion rocked the landscape, jerking the ground under their feet. They both tensed, straightening, their heads snapped toward the source of the sound. A gray cloud billowed up over the treetops.

Whirling debris pattered down through the trees, making the flowers bob.

The smell of gunpowder wafted past on the breeze.

The Doctor turned to her, his eyes widened, sparkling with excitement. "Shall we?"

She waved. "After you, Sweetie."

She grabbed his hand and dragged him off to adventure.

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