(Author's Note: So this has been sitting on my computer for ages and I figure if I don't just post it now, I probably never will, and this deserves to be read. Well, here goes nothing…

Standard disclaimers apply. I own nothing but my own imagination.)

The Doctor is bored. He's bored and he's tired of running and for once he isn't interested in saving a planet or going on an adventure, and besides, he hasn't anyone to go on an adventure with. That wouldn't be very fun.

No, he supposes he'll just sit in the TARDIS for a while and fuss with the wires and such. Always a good time for a little jiggery pokery. He considers taking a look at the chameleon circuit, but then decides against it. He does like the police box, and besides, the mad man with a box can't very well just abandon his box.

So he sits and mopes and fiddles with the wires. It's times like these he wonders if he's doing the right thing, sitting up on his cloud, alone.

What he doesn't want to admit to himself is that he's lonely. He misses the Ponds. He misses Ri- He misses his friends, but they're gone. He can't just go pick them up whenever he wants anymore. They're gone.

"You've gone soft, old man," he scolds himself, and then buries his nose back in the wires and circuits and mechanics of his ship, which are safe and familiar and unable to hurt him, or so he thought.

Suddenly, sparks shoot alarmingly from the wire in his hand, and the familiar sound of the voice interface system turning on clicks through the console room. He grumbles as he gets up to turn it off, but stops short when he sees the face the system selected.

"River." It feels good to say her name again. He'd forgotten how pretty it was. All thoughts of turning the system off vanish from his mind.

The Doctor has to remind himself to breathe because he's so taken aback by her presence there. He knows she's not real, but he can't help but take a few steps toward her anyway.

"I am not River Song. I am a voice interface," the automated message jolts violently into his thoughts.

"Oh, but my River-"

"I am not River Song. I am a voice interface."

Damn his stupid TARDIS with her stupid voice interface.

"I've missed you," he whispers, wanting more than anything to touch her, to brush a curl out of her eyes or hold her hand or sling his arm over her shoulders, but he knows he can't.

"You know it's been a long time since I've seen you River."

"I am not River Song. I am a voice interface."

"But you're you." Finally he does reach out for her, but instead of her cheek, his hand finds empty air and her projection shimmers a little like water that's had a pebble dropped in it.

"I should have known," he sighs.

A few tears fight their way out of his eyes, and he reprimands himself for crying over someone long dead, but he can't help it.

"Oh River-"

"I am not River Song. I am a voice interface."

"- damn it, I need you! I need you here with me! River I-"

"I am not River Song. I am a voice interface."

"-miss you."

By this time he has sunk down to the floor, a shaking, sobbing mess.

"I miss you," he says again. "River, what am I going to do without you? Everything about me is better with you. I can't go back to before, I need River Song here with me. I need you."

He is so shaken up, that it takes him several minutes to realize that something is out of place. Something isn't right, when just seconds before everything was fine.

Suddenly a thought occurs to him. Every time he said her name, the interface corrected him. 'I am not River Song. I am a voice interface.' It said that every time.

But he's been saying her name and the interface hadn't been responding, and before he can even look up he feels a cool hand on his shoulder.

"Hello sweetie." He can't bring himself to look.

"You aren't real. You're not here, River, you're dead, you're saved in the library, and I will never see you again." The hand leaves his shoulder and tilts his head up, forcing him to look at her. River. "You're... dead," he repeats.

"Yes, sweetie, I am, but your TARDIS is a very clever girl. Now I'm here, but I don't have very long, so shut up and kiss me you idiot."

He doesn't argue, and it's not long before the two of them a sprawled on the floor, their lips still pressed together.

"How did she do this?" The Doctor sputters when River finally lets him breathe again.

"The TARDIS plugged herself into the mainframe computer in the library," she explains, sitting crossed legged on the floor or the console room. "It's not stable or powerful enough to last more than a few minutes, that would take far more energy than even this old girl has."

Suddenly he is alive with possibility.

"But if I found another power source, something more powerful than the TARDIS, I could bring you back?" Both hearts are in his throat and he is so filled with hope and joy and something weird in his stomach like he's nervous, but all that stops suddenly when River smiles sadly at him and whispers,

"That's not how it works, my love."

"Well how does it work?" He pouts, and River humors him, just like she always does. She laughs softly and holds his head in her hands.

"You can borrow a book from a library, but you can't keep it."

"But what if I just keep renewing that book over and over again for a very very very long time?" She looks strangely amused, which confuses the Doctor, because this isn't all that funny.

"I'm sorry," she muses, "I'm here now though, aren't I?" Of course she had to ruin his perfectly good loophole. It was probably one of his best loopholes, but if this is all he has, he's going to make it count.

"I love you, River. You know that, right?" He pulled her close to him, resting his forehead against hers.

"Of course I do. And I love you-"

"Yeah, but I really really love you. A lot. And I never tell you that enough." She smiles. Oh how he's missed that smile, all innocent and dangerous all at the same time.

"You never had to tell me, love." He kisses her again, just briefly this time, and finally rises to his feet. "Doctor," she says, getting up from the floor, "I did want to tell you something."

"Anything, River, as long as you're here with me." She looks at him and her eyes are brimming with sadness.

"Please don't be alone. You know how you get, all cold and angry, just don't be alone, for me."

"Of course not." He decides that this is probably a bad time to tell her that he's been parked on a cloud for quite a long time now, and very much alone.

"And maybe, you'll see me again someday," she adds, the corners of her mouth quirking up into a smile.

That was exactly the news he was hoping for. He opens his mouth, but she quickly mutters, "Spoilers," and winks at him. His hearts skip a few beats.

"Oh, that's brilliant! I've never been so happy to hear you say that bloody word." He spins around to check something on the console. "And River-"

"I am not River Song. I am a voice interface."

When he turns around, she's gone just as quickly as she arrived. Now only the projection remains. It's almost like losing her all over again. This time though, the pain doesn't cripple him, it drives him to do better. If he's got let go of her, he's determined to do it right.

"Hey, uh, River-"

"I am not River Song. I am a voice interface."

"Yeah I know, but um, I never properly got to say goodbye, so..." He doesn't know what he was thinking of saying to a hologram of his dead wife, and he feels a little silly, but he finishes anyway. "I just... Goodbye River-"

"I am not River Song. I am a voice interface."

-it's been brilliant. We were... amazing."

He still wonders what she meant by "Spoilers," but instead of being heartbroken, now he's biding his time, because there's a chance he'll see her again. He might not have to be alone...

He takes one last look at his wife, and turns the interface off.

(Please leave a review and let me know what you thought, if there are things I need to fix, or if you have any ideas for future stories. I'm always looking for a good prompt to start a new idea! Thanks for being amazing.

Much love,
PrettyLittleMonster Xxx)