River made her way around the corner, expecting to find her husband. Instead, she found herself facing Hydroflax's giant, red, metal body. But the head on top was instantly recognizable.
"Ramone?" she gasped.
"Professor Song," he said. "The Doctor will be with you in a moment."
She made her way towards him. "What are you doing here?"
"They pulled us from the wreckage, ma'am. Fixed us up. I've been working here ever since. Don't worry. The nasty part's all gone. Got deleted in a merger," he assured her.
Her eyes ran over the robot body. "What about Nardole?"
"Oh, Merry Christmas, ma'am," Nardole's voice echoed from inside the body. "Yeah, good to see you again."
She blinked in surprise before grinning. "Merry Christmas, Nardole!"
"Sorry I'm off duty. I'm just having some me time."
"I imagine that must be quite a challenge," she called.
"Yes, ma'am." Nardole chuckled.
"So, Ramone," River said. "You have a metal body now." She raised a hand, running her palm over the smooth metal.
A voice came from behind her.
"Down, girl."
River spun around to see her husband standing a few feet away. He had swapped his burgundy velvet jacket for a black suit and tie. Pulling a gold box out from behind his back, he started towards her.
"Now that, my dear, is a suit," she complimented.
"Happy Christmas," he said, offering her the box. It had a red ribbon and bow decorating the top.
"Really?" she asked, glancing at him. "I don't think you've ever given me a present before."
He shrugged. Glancing at him curiously, she lifted the lid and peeked inside.
"Oh, it's a sonic screwdriver!" she gasped, gently touching the end of it with her thumb. "How lovely!"
"When I saw the sonic trowel, I thought it was just embarrassing," he explained, gesturing awkwardly. "But, look."
He took it out of the box and activated it, taking the opportunity to save her consciousness into it and setting it to continue taking readings off of her.
"Oh, thank you," she exclaimed as he put the screwdriver back in the box. She caught his head in her hand and pulled him closer, pressing a kiss to both of his cheeks.
He grinned at her, surprised that he hadn't minded the familiar gesture. They started towards the balcony.
"You look, uh, amazing," he stammered, gesturing vaguely at her dress.
"Doctor, you have no idea whether I look amazing or not," River laughed.
"Well, you've cer— You've moved your hair about, haven't you?" He pointed hopefully at her hair.
"Well done. It's very sweet of you to try."
"So what do you think?" He placed a hand on her arm, pulling her onto the balcony as he set the box on the table. He pointed at the view before then. "The Singing Towers."
River stared in awe at the sight in front of her. The two pillars stood tall on the horizon, lit up by the golden sun setting behind them. She was drawn towards them like a magnet, and she let out a soft gasp. He moved to stand beside her, watching her fondly.
"The music," she breathed. They both looked at the towers.
"Listen to it," she gasped, turning to look at her husband. Her smile faded. "Are you crying?"
"No," he said softly, avoiding her gaze. "Just the wind."
"Nothing's ever just the wind."
"No?" he asked, turning to look at her. "It blows through the cave system and harmonises with the crystal layer."
He was grinning, but she could still read him, even with his new face. In fact, it was almost easier to read this face. "Why are you sad?"
"Why are you sad?"
"I told you, my diary's nearly full," she admitted. "I worry."
"Please don't."
River stared at him for a moment, trying to decide what he meant. Then she turned to look at the towers again.
"There are stories about us, you know," she started hesitantly.
"Oh, I dread to think," the Doctor groaned, turning away from her to look at the towers.
"I look them up sometimes."
"You really shouldn't do that."
"Some of them suggest that the very last night we spend together is at the Singing Towers of Darillium." She turned to look at him. "That wouldn't be true, would it?"
He didn't meet her gaze. "Spoilers."
River let out a breath that was more of a sob than she'd readily admit. There had been none of the flirty playfulness that usually accompanied that word in his voice. He had said it softly, and it had carried a sort of finality that scared her.
"Well, that would explain why you kept cancelling coming here," she said, forcing a laugh. "Do you remember that time . . ."
"River, stop."
". . . when there were two of you—"
"Please, just don't," he begged.
"Because I want you to know that if this is the last night, I expect you to find a way round it."
"Not everything can be avoided," he said, looking her in the eye. "Not forever."
"But you're you," she replied desperately. "There's always a loophole. You wait until the last minute and then you spring it on me."
"Every night is the last night for something. Every Christmas is last Christmas."
"But you will," she insisted. "You'll wait until I've given up hope. All will be lost, and you'll do that smug little smile and then you'll save the day. You always do." She laughed, but it was a desperate laugh.
"No, I don't. Not always. Times end, River, because they have to. Because there's no such thing as happy ever after. It's just a lie we tell ourselves because the truth is so hard." He was avoiding her gaze again.
All traces of a smile had faded from River's face. "No, Doctor, you're wrong." He turned to look at her, frowning slightly. "Happy ever after doesn't mean forever. It just means time. Little time. But that's not the sort of thing you could ever understand, is it?"
River had long since accepted that her husband would never understand the importance of the little moments. He had a time machine that could take him anywhere he wanted and he could visit the same event multiple times. He had lived for hundreds of years. Those little moments that were precious to her were simply a drop of water in the sea of time to him. She had convinced herself that she didn't mind but now that it was over, she wished he understood how she felt.
"Hmm." He turned back to looking towards the horizon. He knew what he needed to tell her, what he needed her to hear, but he still couldn't bring himself to say the words. "What do you think of the towers?" he asked, turning to look at her.
"I love them," she replied, but her gaze didn't leave his face.
"Then why are you ignoring them?"
"They're ignoring me. But then you can't expect a monolith to love you back."
"No, you can't," he said softly, recognizing her words as an expression of her doubt and insecurity. He looked back at the towers. "They've been there for millions of years, through storms and floods and wars and . . . time."
River tore her gaze from the Doctor's face. She had hoped that alluding to what she had said on the ship would prompt him to address the issue, even if to confirm the fact that he didn't really love her, but he was still the Doctor. When the conversation got difficult, he began talking about the nearest landmark or species.
"Nobody really understands where the music comes from. It's probably something to do with the precise positions, the distance between both towers," he went on, pointing at them. "Even the locals aren't sure. All anyone will ever tell you is that when the wind stands fair and the night is perfect, when you least expect it but always when you need it the most . . . there is a Song."
His voice had dropped to a mere whisper. It was the closest he could get to telling her what he needed to. He only hoped she understood.
River let out a sigh. Her gaze dropped to the rail. Something was telling her that the Doctor's last words hadn't been about the towers at all. Part of her was overjoyed, but the rest was devastated. She wanted more time. Time with the husband she loved. Time with the husband who may just love her back.
"So," she said, trying to keep an even voice as she turned to look up at the Doctor. "Assuming tonight is all we have left . . ."
"I didn't say that," he tried to reassure her.
"How long is a night on Darillium?" she asked, moving closer to him.
He offered her a small smile before glancing up at the towers. Then he leaned towards her.
"Twenty four years," he whispered.
Her breath came out in a laugh choked by a sob. He was watching her as she grinned at him, laughing while still fighting back tears.
"I hate you," she managed, looking away because she knew she'd start crying if she didn't.
"No, you don't," the Doctor replied fondly.
She turned back to look at him, her gaze moving down to his lips before meeting his eyes once more. They were filled with so much love that she wondered how she had ever doubted him.
River was about to lean forward and kiss him but something made her hesitate. He had protested when she had grabbed his hand and his eyebrows didn't exactly scream, "I love cuddles."
She opened her mouth to suggest they go get dinner when he surprised her by dipping his head to press a gentle kiss to her lips. She blinked up at him in surprise.
"What?" he asked.
"You don't have to do that," she said. "It's okay if you're not comfortable with any sort of intimate contact."
"Why do you assume I'm not?"
"You don't look the type. I mean, those eyebrows? At least we know where the last ones went now."
The Doctor chuckled. "They really are something, aren't they?"
"I like them. They make you look distinguished," River said. "That and the grey hair."
He raised his eyebrows. "What happened to me doing my roots?"
He was startled by the sight of a faint blush spreading across her cheeks.
"I decided I like it," she mumbled.
He grinned. "So I don't have to check with the stars?"
His grin widened as her blush darkened. She hit him in the arm and he let out a soft chuckle. She huffed and turned to look at the towers again. He leaned towards her so he could whisper in her ear.
"River, you're my wife," he said gently. "I know I'm not the same man you married. I'm older and grumpy and Scottish. But you're still the woman I married, and my feelings for you haven't changed."
She turned to look at him again, her cheeks still a faint pink. He went on.
"I didn't kiss you because I think I have to, I kissed you because I wanted to. You're right about the fact that I'm not really comfortable with physical contact, but you make me want to be comfortable with it. And somehow the thought of being near you doesn't seem quite as bad."
He had moved to stand behind her as he spoke. Then he slipped his arms around her waist, linking his fingers together over her belly and resting his chin on her shoulder. They stood like this for several minutes in comfortable silence.
"You're wrong, you know," River murmured presently.
"Oh?"
She twisted around to look at him. "You are the same man I married. You always will be."
"Hmm." He settled his chin back on her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "I can only hope that's true."
River was tempted to argue, but she was too happy to bother. The promise of twenty-four years hung in the air. There would be plenty of time to argue and fight to their hearts' content. She let out a contented sigh.
"I love you," she murmured.
The Doctor smiled against her cheek. He remembered how scared he had been the first time she had told him that all those years ago, sitting in the doorway to the Tardis, watch a star explode. But now he was happy. He could still barely believe that this mad, wonderful woman loved him, but he wouldn't have it any other way. He knew he was a jealous old fool, but he would readily fight anyone else who dared lay claim to his wife's hearts.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please vote and comment.
River's back!
Have a good day!
Bye!
Written November 17, 2019.