"Rory," said the Doctor, hesitantly, "I need to speak with you."
Rory looked up, a bit warily. You never knew what the Doctor would do. Or say. Or who he would take along with him. He seemed to mean well, but disaster followed him everywhere and he tended to drag you into it. And Rory was intrigued... hesitant was not a word he associated with the Doctor. At all. "Right," he replied, "Come along, Doctor." They went out into the softly falling snow, away from the women laughing together in the warm Christmas-lit house.
"I've a problem, Rory. Rory the Roman. Father-in-law. I think you can help me with it, because I can trust you with the spoilers."
This statement both pleased Rory, and made him even more wary of what came next. The Doctor was a very... convoluted,,, sort of fellow, and Rory cursed himself for wanting to please the Doctor as much as anyone. He should know better. He sighed. "All right. Out with it."
So the Doctor told him, without dates or locations, the whole story. About the Library, and how he hadn't known River but she had known him in spite of his other body. How she had known his name and had his sonic screwdriver. How she had sacrificed herself for him and the rest. How he had discovered that she - her essence - was in the screwdriver and how he had saved her to the Library's memory banks. How he hoped he could somehow set her free and be with her again, someday.
Rory sighed again, more heavily this time. He wondered how much of River's sacrifice was atonement for the things she'd done and how much was suicidal despair over the Doctor not remembering her. And wondered afresh how the Doctor could be so very intelligent - far more so than any human being - and yet be so dense as to not see this. Well, maybe he did see it, somewhere or somewhen, but simply couldn't bear to acknowledge it. He seemed to need humans - specifically Rory himself - to point these things out to him.
"Have you given her the sonic screwdriver?"
"Well, no, I... I think that when I do... that'll be the last time I see her..."
"Oh. You know that's not logical, right? Trying to circumvent fate that way? Wouldn't you rather give it to her in your own way, in your own time, than to wait until circumstances force it? Give her some hope?"
The Doctor looked helplessly at Rory. "I... you always see things so clearly, Rory the Roman. I think that's why I... I needed to talk with you. Come on, Rory, we've got a gift to wrap. You can help me with the card." And he dragged Rory toward the TARDIS.
And the next morning, on Christmas Day, the Doctor perched on the arm of the chair where River was sitting drinking her tea. She smiled at him. "Happy Christmas, Sweetie." He ducked his head under her springy curls and whispered something into her ear. Her eyes grew wide. He took the teacup away from her and set it carefully on a table, pulled a small cylindrical gift-wrapped package out of his inner jacket pocket, and handed it to her, trying to put all the confused humany-wumany emotion he felt into his eyes.
"Open it." His voice cracked on the last word.
She opened the card. It read...
To River, Christmas, Earth, Ponds' House
I may forget, but you must remember
that you are loved.
Always and Completely Loved