He polishes the ring approximately fifty-seven times before she arrives. Not that he's counting. When he hears the click-clack of her high heels, he hides the ring in the ring box. His tuxedo doesn't have any pockets (besides the one in the suit jacket, and that one would have a quite noticeable bulge if he put the ring box there), so he wraps the ring box in his napkin and puts the napkin in his lap.
She sits down in front of him. Her hair is piled on top of her head in a stylish twist, one loose curl escaping, and she is wearing a wine-red gown that seems to cling to absolutely everything. Her fingernails are painted. Vaguely, he wonders where she gets the time and the polish from, and then it occurs to him that she breaks out of Stormcage all the time and can probably get polish wherever she wants.
"Doctor Song," he says, inclining his head with a teasing yet seductive smile. Actually, it mostly comes out through a stutter, and his smile probably looks sort of forced, but he is getting more and more nervous. The ring box in his lap seems to weigh quite a lot.
"Are you all right, sweetie?" River asks him in gentle amusement, her right hand reaching over the table to entwine with his. He grabs it as a lifeline, reminding himself that she will always, always love him. That's a constant. She threw the predestined course of her life out the window by choosing to love him.
"W-well, there's this, um, this big question I was planning on asking you…some people call it 'popping the question' but I've no idea why. And anyway, you look lovely tonight, did I tell you that? Then again, you always look lovely, but that's not the point. Um, River, will you—"
The ring box saves him the trouble of asking by falling out of his napkin, and the ring falls out of the ring box and rolls away. River stares at it, then at him, then at her plate. The Doctor mutters a few profanities in Gallifreyan and turns a shade of red reminiscent of that of River's dress.
She squeezes his hand comfortingly, for which he is grateful. "Is it a really expensive ring, or did you use the psychic paper to steal it?"
"I didn't steal it," the Doctor replies softly. "I found it in the TARDIS. I thought you would like it."
River holds up her left hand, and he sees an old and loved wedding ring glinting on her finger. He stares, because that had never been on her ring finger before. There had never been the slightest inclination that River Song might be married. "Two hundred and thirty-three," she says, sounding sad and tired and much more hurt than she's ever sounded before.
"I'm sorry?" the Doctor asks warily.
"That's how many times we've gotten married," River explains. "So that there's never a point in our timeline where older you meets younger me and we aren't married. You said that you wished it could be the same for me, but eventually it would have to end, and that I would have to stop wearing the ring on the first wedding."
"Oh god," says the Doctor, feeling a horrible wave of guilt. "River, I—"
"I'm not marrying you," says River softly. "Not now. Not today. But ask me again the next time you see me, and—"
He takes her other hand and squeezes them both over the table. "We'll make it two hundred and thirty-four, then, dear," he says, raising one of her hands to his mouth and kissing it tenderly.
"I said I'm not—"
"Stay with me," the Doctor requests impulsively, desperate to see her smile at him, desperate for her to say Yes, sweetie, I'll marry you, desperate for a white gown and flowers and a tuxedo and Rory giving away the bride and all that domestic wedding stuff he's always dismissed. She deserves all of that and more. He decides that he will marry her two hundred and thirty-three times more after this. Not because River's told him—time can be rewritten, he knows—but because it is a conscious choice and one that he now really does want to make. Maybe he can take them to Space Vegas, or have a wedding on the Titanic (okay, that's more potentially dangerous and depressing than it is romantic), or—
River exhales. "How long?" she asks, and he knows that he's very nearly convinced her.
"As long as you'd like—"
"I'd like forever, sweetie, but I can't have that," says River, and then, "I love you."
It's not the first time he's heard her say it, but it's the first time that she's said it after he's proposed, and the Doctor leans forward and kisses the woman he's going to marry. River doesn't move a muscle, but she squeezes his hands again. When he pulls away, she has a wistful smile on her face.
"Marry me, River Song," says the Doctor, his voice low and certain now, but there is still a little doubt left in his tone. "Please," he adds quietly. River looks at him, the smile still half there, and nods once. It's all the assent that he needs. "I'm not really that hungry anymore," he says, standing up, everything suddenly right and wonderful with the world. "How do you feel about telling your parents that we're engaged?"
River laughs sadly and stands up as well, their hands still joined awkwardly around the table. She steps nimbly around it, the movement making her hips sway (which is alarmingly attractive in the wine-red dress), and kisses him as soon as she's close enough.
They have to find another engagement ring in the TARDIS.
Amy's reaction is as expected. There's a lot of squealing, a lot of ideas about planning the wedding, and a lot of jumping about. Rory's, however, is a bit more atypical.
"River," he says ever so quietly, reaching across the kitchen table to take his daughter's hand, "I'm sorry."
"I'm getting used to it," River replies shortly, jerking her hand away and avoiding the Doctor's eyes. "At least I still have a romantic relationship with the Doctor in his past, my future. This—" She sighs. "This is just the last time that I see my Doctor."
The Doctor, with a joyful little gasp, realizes that her statement means that for the first time, he is her Doctor. Not the Doctor, but her Doctor. The man River has always spoken of with a sad and wistful smile. The man who she fell in love with. The knowledge that he is now the man that River loves brings a silly smile to his face, but the knowledge that the River Song he is marrying will never see that man again makes that smile fade.
He is remarkably astonished by Rory's perceptiveness to the whole wibbly-wobbly marriage scenario.
"Well," says Rory later, "I'm certain that you had to have gotten married multiple times for either of you to remember it during more than one meeting; relatively, your timelines are usually rather straight. And you don't usually stop at two weddings, Doctor. You have a flair for parties. So I figured that it was sort of your domestic tradition."
The Doctor glances at River, who is padding around in the other room making tea in fuzzy slippers and a bathrobe, and finds that he likes the idea of being domestic. "Um, Rory, I wanted to talk to you about something," he says shyly. "You know how there's that tradition of asking the father's permission?"
"I can hardly control a daughter I barely know," Rory replies with a small, bitter smile. "I feel like I should have been a better father sometimes. She's my friend, but I don't know if I've made it clear enough that I regard her as a daughter as well, and I'm not sure how to make it clear."
River, who has come into the room with three cups of tea balanced precariously on a serving tray, kisses the top of Rory's head as she puts the tray down between the men. "You make it clear all the time, Dad," she says gently, sitting down next to the Doctor and taking a cup of tea. "Don't worry about it."
"Permission?" asks the Doctor.
"Granted," says Rory with a much less bitter smile.
"It's supposed to be bad luck to show you the dress," says River from inside the changing room.
"Pfft. Last time I saw you, we didn't have any sort of bad luck, and you said that next time I see you, we have one of the most amazing weddings ever. That's a rubbish superstition. Show me the dress." The Doctor shifts a bit on the folding chair one of the attendants has gotten for him.
"I look like a pom-pom, honey, you don't want to see me in this."
"Now I just want to see you more. Don't tell me these things." He hears River's laugh, and then she steps out. Call him besotted, but she looks absolutely wonderful in the ridiculously fluffy dress, even with her hair in a messy ponytail. "You're wrong, dear," he tells her, "you look like a cupcake. Not a pom-pom."
"You know me," says River, walking over and sitting on his lap in the folding chair. Due to the fluffiness, the chair nearly gives way. "I'm not a cupcake sort of girl."
"Wouldn't be marrying you if you were, Doctor Song," the Doctor replies with a grin.
"I'd better try on something else," says River, getting off of the Doctor's lap and nearly falling over in the midst of fluffy skirts. "Maybe something a bit…smaller."
"There will be other people there, so don't make the dress too small," the Doctor reminds her. "A lot of my old friends want to come. D'you have any friends you want to invite?"
"A few," River replies. "And I don't see you complaining about my small dresses."
"Save the lingerie for the bedroom," says the Doctor pointedly. "I'd like you to wear something—"
"Blue," says River.
"Sorry?"
"I want a blue wedding dress."
"Right. Um, I'm not against this, but why?"
"I'm borrowing my mum's old shoes. That's old and borrowed, so I want something new and blue."
The Doctor laughs. "I wouldn't have pegged you as traditional."
"It's not traditional to wear a blue wedding dress," River replies. "And anyway, I don't like white. Makes me feel all…I don't know, pure." She shivers jokingly.
"You are to me," says the Doctor softly.
"You are stupidly romantic," River tells him, "and I'm not going to let you see this dress. I'll pick it by myself."
"I could help you try it on," the Doctor suggests innocently.
River grins mischievously and replies, "We wouldn't want to do that. Last time you 'helped me try something on,' we ended up having a quickie in the changing room."
"River," says the Doctor with a groan, and decides to hide his mortification by hiding his face in a nearby wedding dress.
She still won't show him the dress. He tries to get up in the middle of the night and sneak a peek, but he accidentally wakes her up, and she pulls him back onto the bed and starts kissing him with fervor that he later realizes was a cleverly calculated distraction.
They stop by Torchwood to ask Jack if he'll consider being their best man. Jack, as always, seems extremely interested in flirting with River. River doesn't really mind.
"He's really quite sexy," she comments as they leave, taking the Doctor's arm and leaning on his shoulder. The Doctor huffs indignantly, and she continues calmly, "I really don't see why you didn't shag him while you had the chance."
"River," the Doctor mutters, an embarrassed flush beginning at his ears.
River smirks, looking straight ahead, as if she knows what she's doing to him and wants to continue egging him on. Which, knowing River, is quite a likely possibility. "You could have! He fancied you, you know. All I'm saying is it's a wasted opportunity. Really. I would, but I suppose we have different tastes."
"You would?" the Doctor echoes a bit sadly.
"Yes, of course I would," River scoffs, rolling her eyes at him. "It's not like I'm getting married to a ridiculously wonderful man who I've fallen in love with."
"…oh."
River stops walking and steps in front of him, standing on tiptoe to press a feather-light kiss to his nose. "You've got such a stupid inferiority complex," she comments, "and that's just the tip of the iceberg."
The Doctor has to smile. "And you're an arrogant psychopath, but I don't hold it against you, do I?"
"You do have that going for you, yes," says River thoughtfully, Eskimo-kissing him to make him laugh. She only does these sorts of things when no one they know is around, and frankly, he can't blame her. It's a bit embarrassing when one's friends see one turned into a romantic idiot.
Martha and Mickey are a bit surprised to find out that he's regenerated, but their reactions to that are nothing compared to when the Doctor introduces River. Granted, he doesn't do a very good job of timing the visit. It's afternoon for Martha and Mickey(Martha, the Doctor notes with satisfaction, has a slight baby bump under her cozy-looking jumper), but for River it's probably half past one in the morning. She's asleep in their bed when the Doctor leaves the TARDIS, and she comes out in the TARDIS-blue nightie that the Doctor always adores. Thankfully, she's got a bathrobe on over it.
"Honestly," she says in exasperation, drawing her arms around herself in the chilly afternoon air as she steps out of the TARDIS. "I need my sleep, sweetie, so don't slam the bedroom door when you're going out."
"Sweetie?" Martha echoes with a frown.
"Doctor?" Mickey asks, turning to the flustered Time Lord for an explanation.
"Ah," says the Doctor weakly. "Um, Martha, Mickey, this is my fiancée." He giggles suddenly. "I really, really like that word," he adds happily. He hasn't had much opportunity to use it.
River groans. "I'm going to have to do a really good job of explaining, aren't I?" she asks, sticking out her hand. "And here I was hoping for a good night's sleep. Doctor River Song, archaeologist, daughter of the Doctor's current companions, Amy and Rory, who are a bit younger than her at the moment. We'd really best get that out of the way. The questions always come up."
Martha and Mickey both stare at her.
"Um, maybe I should do the explaining," the Doctor suggests.
River laughs. "Last time you tried to explain things, we nearly had to murder the Queen of Space Brazil, and that was not fun."
"Really?" says the Doctor with interest. "When was that for you? I haven't done Space Brazil yet. Is there even a Space Brazil? I've never been."
"Spoilers," says River. "Sorry, I thought you did that one."
"Space Brazil," the Doctor repeats to himself.
Martha coughs loudly, and then says, "Sorry, Doctor, but what about Rose?"
"Still in a parallel dimension," says River, "and she's got her happily ever after, you know, so the Doctor deserves his." She pauses. "Actually, I hate to be morbid, but we're probably never going to be linear, so it's more of a happily-in-the-middle." The Doctor is probably the only one who can see the pain in her eyes.
"Happily-in-the-middle?"
"Well, neither of us know the end, do we?" River asks cheerfully, "and the beginning was absolute rubbish, so I'd say happily-in-the-middle, because the middle is pretty happy."
"Middles always are happy," the Doctor tells her, and at the thought of the Library he adds, "I hate endings."
"So you just…moved on and decided to marry some archaeologist?" says Martha. "Just like that?"
"Actually, it took him a good few decades to even trust me," River replies cheerfully, "but when he found out that I was a Time Lady of sorts, well, that opened up a whole new realm of possibilities!"
The Doctor decides that it might be a good idea to have some tea and attempt to explain the situation with River's aid before asking Martha and Mickey to attend the wedding.
"Can I see it?"
"Go away," says the Doctor. "You wouldn't let me see your dress."
"It's tradition!"
"Right, and are we going to follow that tradition of being separated before the wedding?" says the Doctor smugly, knowing that he's won. "I didn't think so."
"Sweetie," sings River, "I'm only wearing a bathrobe."
The Doctor suddenly finds the prospect of opening the door very appealing, and when he yanks it open he is met with a fully-dressed River. She stands on tiptoe and peeks over his shoulder at the wedding cake before he neatly shuts the door in her face. "Cheater," he scowls at the shut door.
"All's fair in love and war," his fiancée replies. "I think it could do with a bit more blue icing."
"Where?"
"Let me in and I'll help you."
"I want to see your dress!"
"No."
"Fine!"
"Fine."
Amy solves the problem by walking past River, trying to get into the Ponds' kitchen, and realizing that the door is locked. "Doctor!" she shouts in exasperation, hammering on the door. "Doctor, I want breakfast, let me in!"
"I'm decorating the wedding cake, Pond!" says the Doctor irritably.
"I will get a rock and break the window and set off the burglar alarm and blame you! I want my breakfast!" Amy evidently has just woken up and is extremely hungry. The Doctor mutters mutinously under his breath as he opens the door. River grins and darts past him to look at the cake.
"It's lovely, sweetie," she says smugly. "Gorgeous."
The Doctor glowers, but he's stifling a smile, and he knows that River knows.
"You're besotted," Amy says later. "It's the cutest thing I've seen since I discovered Care Bears."
"Besotted?" the Doctor repeats, avoiding looking at Amy.
"Besotted," Amy confirms. "You smile all the time, you're wearing your own engagement ring, and I keep on seeing you and her kissing out in the garden when I want to go water the plants."
"You weren't supposed to see that!" squeaks the Doctor. "And you and Rory were like that too, anyway!"
"Rory and I were always like that," says Amy. "I recall someone telling me that he could run away from anything he liked."
"Well, I still can, I just chose not to," the Doctor replies stubbornly. "River's too pretty and smart to run away from." Amy raises an eyebrow. "Shut up," he mutters petulantly.
He slips into the bed of the Ponds' guest room at night, every night, and wraps his arms around River, closing his eyes and falling asleep. Time Lords don't need that much sleep, he knows, but something about River's cozy warmth could cure even the most afflicted insomniac.
If this is domestic, he thinks, I don't want anything else.
"You know I'm going to have to leave after the wedding," says River in the morning, making pancakes in the kitchen while the Doctor sits at the table. "Maybe I'll stay for a bit more, but I can't stay forever."
"I want you to," says the Doctor.
River doesn't turn from the stove. "Your forever and my forever are a bit different."
"I'm on my last regeneration," he says. "Our forevers are nearly the same."
Rule One: the Doctor lies.
"We'd get on each other's nerves, sweetie," River tells him, still not looking at him. "We'd divorce within the week."
"I thought we were doing pretty well," says the Doctor.
"We're planning something," River explains impatiently. "We've got something to focus on. Neither of us do domestic. Ever."
"Travel with me."
"What?" Now River turns away from the stove.
"We could call it a honeymoon," the Doctor continues. "We can travel, and flirt, and fight, and do whatever, and be as in love as we want to be, and then you'll be able to face a younger me, because you'll have all of that to remember."
"The pancakes will burn if I leave them," says River, turning away to adjust the heat on the stove. Then, "It's not a possibility."
"Well, it should be."
"Well, it's not."
"Well, it should be."
River turns back to him with a reluctant smile and moves to kiss him softly on the cheek. "You're ridiculous, you know that?" she tells him. "Daft man."
"Hmm. Amy says that love's turning me into a softie."
"You were always a softie," River replies, walking back to flip the pancakes.
They invite Wilfred Mott. This is the most painful for the Doctor, as he can clearly see Donna chatting away with her husband on the couch in the next room. Shaun seems like a nice enough person, but the Doctor knows that Donna deserves better. Donna deserves to be a queen, he thinks, remembering the way she talked to him, remembering the way he ruined her life—
"My love?" says River ever so gently, pulling the Doctor out of his pit of self-loathing as she touches his face with her fingertips. "I know you're not all right, so don't pretend that you are. Remember, though, she's happy, even if you're not, and isn't that more important?"
Wilf watches with a small smile, and he says, "She's a keeper, this one. Might marry her myself if I was a bit younger." There's a sadness to his voice; the Doctor thinks that a bit of him was taken when Donna lost her memories of the Doctor. But he's still happy, and he's still got Donna (sort of).
River smiles. "That means a lot to me," she says sincerely, smiling warmly at Wilf as she turns away from the Doctor. The Doctor reaches out to grab her hand, despair threatening to overwhelm him as he hears Donna's loud laugh. When River's hand is clutched in his, she is his lifeline in a sense.
"Can't they just—I don't know, sit on the floor or something?" says River irritably, surveying the blank seating chart. "Why do I care where people sit? We can just put down the damn tables and let them sit where they want."
"This is why I'm marrying you," the Doctor whispers to her, and ducks the pencil Amy throws at his forehead.
"Quiet, you," Amy says in exasperation. "This is how humans get married, and consequently, this is how my only daughter is going to get married. For the first time in our perspective, anyway."
River groans dramatically and slumps against the Doctor, muttering things about how they should just make everyone sit on crates. The Doctor, tickled by a stray blonde curl that's escaped from River's braid, giggles.
"Okay," says Amy. "We're with Mickey and Martha, and I put Wilf with Vastra and Jenny, so I think we should have Jack and Ianto sit…hang on, can I have my pencil back?"
"No, you threw it at me," the Doctor huffs, his hand moving to entwine with River's.
"Since when were you so into hand-holding?" River teases. "You're never this open when you're this young."
"You've met a younger me, then?"
"A few times."
"Did you think I was hot?"
"Not the time," says Amy loudly and exasperatedly. "Where are we putting Jack and Ianto?"
"Oh, put them outside," the Doctor replies. "Jack won't care. He'll just start a snogging session with Ianto."
"He's got a boyfriend?" River gasps indignantly. "But I was angling for a threesome!"
The Doctor chokes on air and hides his face in his fiancée's shoulder while Amy and River laugh their heads off. He's starting to wonder if it was a wise idea to plan a wedding with two Ponds. The seating chart, thankfully, is forgotten.
He finds that one aspect of their relationship has changed now that he's proposed: the kissing. Before he'd asked her to marry him, their kisses had been passionate and bruising, the sort where he'd had to stumble away and gasp for air while River smirked through swollen lips. Now, though, the kisses are soft and sweet, and they're regular. Quick ones while River's making waffles, gentle ones underneath the tree in the garden, tender ones before they fall asleep.
It's a new sort of love that the Doctor rather likes. River's gone from a sort of space temptress to his fiancée. He loves her in a simple and constant sort of way that he hadn't expected to ever experience with her.
Right now, they're kissing quietly and contentedly under the stars. The Doctor's brought out a picnic blanket into the garden, and River's lying on top of him with her hands resting on his shoulders. She pulls away to roll off of him, snuggling into his side.
"If you tell anyone I like snuggling you," she says sleepily into his shirt, "I'm going to kill you."
"Yeah, but you'll think twice about it," the Doctor yawns. "You always do."
River hums happily and nuzzles her face into his chest, and the Doctor somehow manages to tangle his hands in her hair. "Ow," she says, glaring up at him reproachfully. "By rights you should apologize now."
"I was trying to stroke your hair, but then it tried to eat my hand," the Doctor says stubbornly. "I think you should be the one apologizing."
"Get your hands out of my hair," says River.
"Why? Maybe I like having my hands in your hair. Maybe I could spend my entire life stuck to you forever." The Doctor has to grin a little bit at that possibility.
"That's not possible. You'd lose patience with me."
"Who's to say that you wouldn't lose patience with me?" the Doctor retaliates, carefully pulling out his hands and moving them to cup her face instead. "This is nice," he says thoughtfully. "Romantic, surprisingly so, but nice."
"What's wrong with romantic?" River asks, frowning at him slightly.
"You just didn't strike me as a romantic sort of person, Doctor Song."
"Only for you," River says gently, and they're kissing again. The Doctor isn't sure whether it's just in his head, but River seems to taste like Gallifrey—like home.
"What about these?" River asks as she steps out of the bathroom. The Doctor, who is tying his bow tie, gets up off of the bed. He suddenly notices how stiflingly hot the room is—or maybe it's just him. River is wearing a pair of black high heels that does insane things to her legs, and a small towel that leaves little to the imagination. She's not wearing anything else. "I wanted to try these on for the wedding," she explains. "Just got out of the shower, and I noticed that they were lying there." She's looking extremely smug. "Probably not going to wear them to the wedding, actually—they don't go with my dress—but there was this cute bar I wanted to go to with you on our honeymoon."
"I just got dressed," says the Doctor weakly. "You ridiculous woman."
"Do you think the high heels will work, sweetie?" River asks innocently, moving forward to place damp hands on his shoulders. "Or should I go get another pair?"
The Doctor rolls his eyes and grabs River's hips, pulling her into his arms for a kiss. Apparently, some things don't change even with impending marriage, he reflects—
"Damn right they don't," says River with a breathless laugh, only she doesn't say it out loud. She says it in his mind, her voice strong and clear like she's been doing touch-telepathy for a very long time.
The Doctor pulls away with a gasp. "River?" he whispers, hope filling him. "River, you're a Time Lady, right? So can you—can you do touch-telepathy? I haven't—not since Gallifrey—I—" He is stumbling over his words, but River seems to understand, and she closes her eyes and presses her hands to his temples.
Oh.
He hasn't done this in ever so long. He's wanted to, of course, but one can't do it with many other species, and it's a rather intimate act at times. But River is singing to him through their connection, singing in the language of his people. A language that he hasn't heard spoken—or through telepathy—by anyone else but himself for a very long time.
When the song ends, River starts talking softly in Gallifreyan through the connection. She tells him about everything and nothing in a silly, flirty tone. She tells him, over and over again, how much he means to her, the lengths that she would go to make sure he was safe, how she doesn't care how he feels for her as long as she knows he'll be happy.
He is crying. He rests his forehead against hers, tears dripping onto the floor as he sobs. She doesn't say a word aloud as she pushes him onto the bed, curling around him as she sends him words of endearment through touch-telepathy.
Please don't stop, he sends back to her. It's been so long.
I'm cold, River says in his mind, her Gallifreyan nearly flawless. Where's the comforter? Remind me to put on a bathrobe next time when I try to seduce you, okay, my love?
The Doctor utters a watery laugh and pulls River as close as he can, her legs wrapping around his waist as the towel falls to the ground. One hand reaches for the comforter, tucking them both in, and she talks on in his mind. He drifts into a peaceful sleep.
The night before the wedding, the Doctor wakes up two hours after falling asleep. River has left the bed and is sitting by the door, crying without the dignity or composure that he's used to. When she cries, it's always carefully controlled, never utterly lost and miserable like this.
She doesn't seem to hear him slip out of the bed, and when he rests a hand on her shoulder, she doesn't even look up. "Hey," he says softly. "Hello, dear."
River looks up at him, but she doesn't seem to be able to stop crying, her breaths coming in hiccups and sobs. The Doctor pulls her into his arms and lets her cry, kissing the top of her head and sending her words of endearment through touch-telepathy.
Whatever it is, he tells her, we're going to fix it, you and me. I promise. I'll do anything for you, River, anything…except maybe give up the fez.
River laughs wetly and raises her head to give him a shaky smile. "Sorry," she says, and then her composure is back. "Rough night."
"Don't give me that," says the Doctor, still gentle. "River, please, please tell me what's wrong, all right? If we're getting married, we've got to be honest with each other—"
"Don't you see?" River demands, her voice still wobbly. The Doctor traces her cheek with his finger. "Don't you get it? This is the last time that I'll ever be able to be honest with you! This is the last time I'm going to meet a you who loves me! I can't do this, I can't, I can't…" She dissolves into tears again, and the Doctor buries his face in her hair as she sobs into his chest.
"I'm sorry," he says, his voice muffled. "I'm so, so sorry. You deserve so much better, River."
"So do you," says River through her tears.
"River, all I do is break your heart, bit by bit."
"I love you, you idiot."
"And you know how I feel about you," the Doctor whispers, because he can't quite say it to her, not yet. "Always, River. Always and completely."
River cries for ten more minutes before she raises her head to look at him and says clearly and distinctly, "If I deserve better than you, and you deserve better than me, I'd say that we're a perfect fit, then, aren't we?"
The Doctor laughs softly. "You're so beautiful," he tells her. She blushes slightly, and he elaborates. "I'm not just talking about on the outside, River. I'm talking about on the inside. You're one of the most beautiful people I know."
"I'm a murderer," said River, her voice shaking. "Don't lie to me to try and get me to stop crying, Doctor. I'm not beautiful inside—everyone knows murderers aren't beautiful."
"You are to me," said the Doctor. "To hell with what you are to everyone else, River—when I look at you, I see someone strong and brave and beautiful."
"I just cried for a good ten minutes. How is that strong?"
"It's always going to be something with you, isn't it?" the Doctor says with a small smile. "Stop arguing with me already." He lifts her into his arms and carries her back to bed, where he tucks her in before sliding in next to her and pulling her against him, his hands clasped at her stomach and his chin resting lightly on her head.
They fall asleep.
He wakes up early, a sort of tingle running through him. He's getting married, and for the first time in centuries, he's getting married to a woman that he loves dearly. Carefully, he lets go of River, who is still asleep, and he tiptoes over to the dresser.
He dons a white dress shirt, a white bow tie, and a black suit jacket and trousers. Everything is crisp and pressed; Amy did the laundry yesterday to make sure that everyone would be going to the wedding in clean clothes. He still doesn't know what River's wearing, but he supposes that, for once, he could do with a surprise.
By the time he's put on his shoes, the sun is shining brightly through the curtains of the Ponds' guest room. River yawns softly on the bed, and the Doctor hurries over to check on her.
"Hey," he whispers, gently shaking her. "River. Hey. Ready to get married?"
A slow smile spreads across River's face before she opens her eyes, sitting up on the bed and grabbing the lapels of his suit jacket. He's expecting a kiss, and his eyes slide shut, but when he realizes that River's mouth isn't pressed against his, he opens his eyes again. River smirks as she lets go of his jacket and stands up. "I'd best get ready," she says. "There's a big day today."
As Rory drives them all to the church, the Doctor holds River's hand, trying to keep the public displays of affection to a minimum. His relationship with River is reserved only for the two of them; he doesn't feel right having anyone near them when they're kissing or cuddling.
"Penny for your thoughts?" the Doctor asks River quietly as Amy starts a good-natured argument with Rory about what street the church is on.
"I'm rather excited," River admits, a glowing smile beginning. "I want to see what you think of my dress." She's changing at the church, as she doesn't want to risk crossing the street in the heels she's chosen. The Doctor, ever chivalrous, had suggested carrying her across the street bridal-style, but River had replied that "then you'd trip over something and we'd get killed before we got married." Unfortunately, she raised a very reasonable point.
"I'm more interested in the woman wearing it, to be truthful," the Doctor whispers in River's ear. "You'd look good in a paper sack."
"Shameless flatterer," River purrs.
"You love it," the Doctor says softly back.
"Stop it," River whispers.
"Make me," says the Doctor smugly.
River smirks, turns away, and says, "Parents, sweetie."
The Doctor mutters something childishly before glancing furtively at a distracted Amy and Rory. Once he's quite sure that his soon-to-be in-laws are sufficiently distracted, he presses a quick, chaste kiss to River's cheek. He smirks at her flabbergasted expression, and repeats, "Make me."
River rolls her eyes. "No kisses before the wedding," she says loudly, catching Amy and Rory's attention. "I know you're feeling a little frisky, Doctor, but—"
"That wasn't—I didn't—gah!" the Doctor sputters indignantly.
"Right," says Amy, turning back to the road. "Don't really care to know about how frisky the Doctor is right now, thank you, River. We turn off on Chestnut Drive, right?"
The Doctor blushes furiously and refuses to look at River for the entire rest of the car ride. As they're stepping out into the church parking lot, she gets out of the car from her side, saunters around to meet him as he's shutting the car door, and stands on her tiptoes to whisper something in his ear.
"Made you stop," she murmurs smugly, and then she's strolling towards the church to get changed.
River Song is not wearing a blue wedding dress. He strongly suspects that she suggested that her dress was blue just to throw him off. Her dress is strapless and a golden color that sets off her hair, which is loose and wild around her shoulders. It has a long, flowing skirt, but it still clings to her attractively. As her hips sway, the dress moves alluringly. She doesn't look like she's getting married, not really, but her eyes are tender and soft as they meet his.
"Yowzah," the Doctor mouths to her, making her crack a smile.
She reaches him at the pew and takes his hand. "You look beautiful," she says with a small smile.
"Isn't the term handsome?"
"Handsome doesn't adequately describe you, honey. You look beautiful. Did you write up your vows?"
The Doctor has to smile a bit. "Yeah."
"All right, then," says Strax loudly. He's taken the duty of being their priest very seriously, and Vastra and Jenny are beaming like proud parents from the second pew. According to them, they chose his outfit. "The bride and groom have written vows, which they shall read before the battle."
"Strax," says River with ill-disguised exasperation, "it's not a combat-zone wedding."
"Force of habit," Strax replies. "As per tradition, the bride goes first." River grins slightly and takes a sheaf of paper from her cleavage. The Doctor (who is rather impressed by the risqué move performed in front of their friends) smiles encouragingly at her.
"Hello, sweetie," she says. "First off, I wanted to say that I know. I know that I'm not your first love, and I know that I'm not going to be your last. A lot of people think that their time with you is going to last forever, but I'm not going to kid myself. Innocence makes you get all broody, Doctor, because you know the age-old secret of the universe. Everything ends, and you've got to watch it by yourself. Except you won't be by yourself for a long time yet, my love. Even though this is the last time I'll ever marry you, this is only the beginning in your timeline. And you've promised that you'll see older versions of me later on, so I can't quite find it in myself to be frightened of losing you.
"I'm here for you now, Doctor, and I will be for a long time. I'm here for the good nights and the bad nights and even the nights when you're not in the mood, although I don't think that that's a very common occurrence. I'm here to listen to you talk and tell you when you're being ridiculous and hold you when you're tired of losing battles you can't win. I'm here if you'll have me, and I'm here for as long as you need me—"
"Always," says the Doctor roughly, grabbing her hands so that their fingers entwine. "I need you always."
There is a sigh from the entire church at the sweetness of the scene, and he can see out of the corner of his eye that Amy and Rory are looking startled. He isn't surprised. He's done quite a good job of hiding the depth of his feelings for River from the world, but hell, where else to admit it than in front of all the people that matter?
"Ditto, honey," River replies with a brilliantly beautiful smile.
The Doctor leans forward so that his mouth is right next to River's ear. "River, I love you," he murmurs so that only she can hear, trying to make up for all of the wrongs he's done her.
It shocks him how freeing and wonderful it is once the words are out there. So long he's been afraid of letting himself love, scared of the heartbreak he's learned it brings, but River has taught him that the happiness is worth the coming heartbreak. Love. I love this woman. This woman I love. I love River Song. Every way he's said it to himself pales in comparison at actually saying it to her (and he doesn't count Berlin, because back then it was a dying confession that he hadn't known until he'd said it). It seems more real now, more tangible, and he really does love her. He really does. He's smiling like a besotted idiot, he's sure.
River smiles, her eyes glittering with tears. She doesn't squeal "I love you too!" nor does she wrap her arms around him and pull him into a fiery embrace (she saves that for the bedroom). Instead, she squeezes his hand and says ever so softly, "I know."
The Doctor pulls away from River, his hands still clasping hers, and takes a shaky breath, aware that his and River's friends are all waiting eagerly to see what he's come up with for his vows. They want to see what sort of man he is now that he's regenerated.
He smiles nervously.
River smiles back.
You can do it, my love, she says in his mind, and he is spurred into action.
"I hated you," the Doctor states. "You sauntered into my life with stupid high heels and flew my TARDIS and bossed me around, and I hated your know-it-all-attitude and your winks and the way you could make walking to the grocery store sound like a sexual excursion. I hated how smart you were with me and how close you became with Amy and how you always pretended that I knew the answer and then told me I was wrong when I tried to help you out. I hated your eyes and your space hair and your smile. In short, River, you were the most annoying, self-centered, obnoxious woman that I had ever met."
River is staring at him, her eyes wide and hurt, but he plows on.
"And then," says the Doctor, his voice low and tender, "I started to love all those things that I hated."
This was not in the script, but suddenly it's quite easy to admit his feelings, what with River's mind touching his lightly and his friends surrounding them in the pews and the sunlight shining through the stained-glass windows of the church. Everyone had probably already guessed it anyway when he said that he needed her always, so no harm, no foul. River's eyes are still wide, but now they're shining with happiness.
"I started loving the way you sauntered into my life at the most inopportune of moments," the Doctor continues. "I started loving how beautiful you were when you smiled, and how sexy you were when you were trying to stop something from exploding or a planet from drifting into a supernova, and how I could have actual conversations with you and actual arguments where I didn't just win all the time because I was smart. I started loving your high heels, and how you flew my TARDIS, and how you bossed me around—although that does not mean that you get to do it more than usual!" he adds hastily as River gives him a playfully predatory grin. "I need you always," he concludes, "even if I just completely botched up the wedding vows that I wrote up so carefully. None of this was in the script."
"It wasn't?" says River in amazement. "Bloody hell, you are well-spoken. Wish you were like that in bed—oh wait, you are."
"River," says the Doctor, blushing furiously, but he's smiling at her, and his hand is clutching hers in an almost vicelike grip. He's too exhilarated to be embarrassed. He's finally faced his fear of admitting his feelings, and it's not nearly as horrifying as he thought it would be.
"By the power vested within me by Madame Vastra, I pronounce you man and wife," says Strax loudly, oblivious to the Doctor's romantic moment with his fiancée, "As is customary on Earth, you will now engage in a sexual activity known as 'kissing' with your new mate in front of these primitives."
"Way to kill the mood, Strax," says the Doctor's wife, and she kisses him enthusiastically, the cheers of their friends echoing through the chapel. The Doctor smiles against her mouth, utterly content to live in the moment for the first time in centuries.
He straightens his bow tie for the twelfth time. Not that he's counting. Considering that his bow tie is going to be off in a few minutes anyway, it's a rather futile effort, but he wants River to see him at his best. When he hears the click-clack of her high heels, he straightens and looks towards the doorway, where his wife is moving toward him. Her dress clings fetchingly, just like the day he'd proposed.
"As much as I love a good party," River purrs, "I've been looking forward to the wedding night much more than anything else." She shuts the door behind her, and when she turns around, the Doctor pulls her into his arms. "Ooh, you're being forward today," she whispers.
The Doctor smiles. "Well," he says, "my mad space wife taught me how to be assertive, and that she's always going to be there for me, no matter how stupid I get."
"Sweetie, you're always stupid, and I've always put up with—"
She is cut off by the Doctor's kiss. He is married, in love, and happy, all at the same time, and the only logical thing to do is communicate that to River, who laughs joyously against his mouth as he pulls her close.
As always, reviews are appreciated.
-The Eclectic Bookworm