76(G)

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                            Holiday

                           leiascully

"Can I ask you a question?" the Doctor says, staring at River.

"You can ask me anything you'd like," she says, fiddling with something electronic. "That doesn't mean I'll answer."

"Why archaeology?"

"Why not?" She smiles at him. "It seemed as good as any other thing. It was a bit of a guided tour honestly, since I could skip around to anytime I wanted and see it for myself. Besides, I was looking for you."

"Let's hope I wasn't to be found in the bottom of a hole," he mutters, lounging against the shelves in the TARDIS library.

She rolls her eyes at him. "Nothing like that, sweetie. But you've definitely left bits and bobs in the timeline. Some of the depictions I've seen of you, well. I'm surprised your ears aren't burning constantly. Very flattering, some of them. Some of them not, of course."

"Of course," he murmurs. "The ears."

"The hair," she agrees. "And the celery. I mean, really, sweetie, the celery I'll never understand."

"Celery's cool," he says defensively. "Fresh. Good for the digestion, celery, and an excellent conversation piece as well."

"It's certainly something," she tells him. "Anyway. You love museums. I love archaeology."

"Fair enough," he says.

She cocks an eyebrow at him. "You ought to know by now that there's nothing I like better than studying old bones." The smirk on her face is unmistakable. He can't help smiling himself.

"Now, now," he chides her, "I'm practically middle-aged, for a Time Lord. These bones aren't so old."

"I'll need to examine them thoroughly," she says, setting down the thing she's fiddling with and standing up. "For quite a long while, I'd imagine. Just to test the veracity of your claims, you understand."

"No time like the present," he says to the air.

"Exactly," she tells him. "And it is still my birthday, for another hour or so."

"Yes, for your birthday, I allowed you your archaeology joke when it ought to have properly been a paleontology joke." He kisses her lightly.

"You're a relic," she offers with a smile. "You're an ancient artifact. You're a curiosity from another era. You're very nearly a ruin."

"All right, all right," he says hastily. "No need to resort to that."

She hooks a hand through his braces and drags him down the corridor.

+ + + +

"A toast," Rory says from the head of the table. He raises his glass. Amy, River, and the Doctor echo the motion, though the Doctor's glass is filled with sparkling grape juice instead of the wine the others are drinking.

"A toast to what?" Amy prompts.

"To family," Rory decides. "And the strange and unexpected ways the universe brings us together."

"I'll drink to that," Amy says, beaming at the Doctor.

"So will I," he says, clinking his glass against hers, very carefully looking her in the eyes.

"Got my daughter, got my boys," Amy says happily. "Well, my husband and my, er...son-in-law."

"Don't look at me," the Doctor says. "I haven't had a mother-in-law in seven hundred years, it isn't any easier on this side of the table."

"And you're fond of your in-laws," River says, giving his hand a squeeze. "Surely that makes it better."

"Oh, Ponds," the Doctor says with sudden great affection. "Thank heavens I crash-landed in your garden all those years ago, little Amelia."

"So weird," Amy says. "I'm your mother-in-law and I'm little Amelia all at once to you, aren't I?"

The Doctor sets down his glass and waves his hands around. "Timey-wimey. I'm used to it. Go mad otherwise, wouldn't I?"

"How would we tell exactly?" Rory asks. The Doctor scowls at him.

"All right, Centurion, but admit it, your life was more entertaining once you found out I wasn't just a fairy story." The Doctor sips at his fizzy juice.

"It's a good thing I wasn't flying her that night," River says. "You might have ended up where you wanted to go, wherever that was."

"Anywhere not imminently crashing, I think," the Doctor says, "but yes, you probably would have brought her down neat as a pin, and then where would you be? You might not even exist!"

River raises her glass again. "Here's to the TARDIS, for always taking our Doctor where he needed to go, even if it wasn't where he thought he wanted to go."

"To the TARDIS," they all chorus.

+ + + +

"Happy new year, my love," River says, smiling up at him.

"We could do this every night if we wanted," he grumbles, but he isn't really in a grumpy sort of mood, not with River in that dress and the stars so bright above them. "Pick any year on any planet and we'll go there. Never get the confetti out of your hair."

"And you'd have to kiss me every night," she says. Her eyes sparkle and so does her dress.

"I've been doing that anyway," he says, leaning in to illustrate the point.

"So you have," she says. "And very pleased I am about that, too."

"But a year doesn't mean much to us," he says.

"Don't spoil it," she says. "Even if it's not our new year, it's still magic. A fresh start. A clean page. A new diary."

"What's wrong with your old diary?" he asks.

"Nothing, sweetie." She rubs his arm. "I'm not planning to turn over a new page any time soon. I've had enough fresh starts in my life. I quite like where I am now."

He gazes at her in the circle of his arm. "I quite like where you are as well, come to think of it."

"Happy new year, Doctor," she murmurs, slipping her hand behind his head and drawing him down for a kiss as the world rejoices around them.

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