"Is anybody hurt? No? Thank goodness. Now, Adrian, Leigh, Johnny, Kiera, and Regan, pile the bodies outside the church. Friya and Lizzette, get a fire going. Let me know if anyone's missing, and Barnable, pop inside and bring some wires from the workbench—not the blue ones, the purple. Make sure they're purple. "

"I'll find the most."

"No, me!"

"Come back when you're done, and we'll all have cocoa together, and biscuits."

"Marshmallows?" Kiera asked.

"You've been poking into my private stash." He winked. "Maybe. Just maybe."

Kiera nodded back and raced off.

The Doctor sighed. He wasn't expecting anything worse than bruised knuckles and scorched siding this time, but it was close. Too close. Tasha's force fields kept out the Cybermen, Daleks,Sycorax, and Drahvins, but it was like spreading high-quality caviar on Mark & Spenser's entire stock of bread; you just couldn't cover everything.

Wind gusted past, spilling snow like a child with sprinkles. Except it was cold and damp and all one color—not sprinkles, then, powdered sugar. Powdered sugar , mm, that would be good. Except they didn't have powdered sugar on Christmas, and what good was Christmas without sweeties? He'd have to make a note of it for next time he visited Tasha, write out a shopping list. Strands of lights, and Yorkshire pudding, maybe some Turkish Delight and of course jammey dodgers…

The outside noises faded away. Children scampered across the main square, throwing snowballs at each other, while a roaring fire blazed off to one side. Where was Barnable with those wires? And what was that noise?

Vroop.

No, it couldn't be. He had imagined it. Sending Clara away in the TARDIS was like splitting Siamese twins, but it had to be done. Nothing was going to happen to her because of him. He'd promised himself.

Vroop. Vroop. The pewter sky flickered blue.

Barnable emerged from the church, wires clutched tightly. "Is it another attack?"

"No, it's my ship."

"What?"

"My TARDIS. That's how I came here, remember?"

The TARDIS fully materialized. Almost before she finished, a woman staggered out , nearly falling in the snow.

Her shimmering dress* left her shoulders and collarbone bare; her hair was piled atop her head in a woven mess of curls. "Hello, sweetie."

River.

River. But she was—that is—never mind timelines, that's River. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I know the old girl isn't a taxi service, but what else was I supposed to do when she parked herself between the sofa and the coffee table? The moment I walked in, poof, she was off. Wouldn't even wait for me to do the environment checks once we landed—just booted me out. What sort of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?"

"It's not exactly trouble—not on its own, really, it's more a matter of how the rest of the universe is responding to it, like Parliament and taxes you know, nobody would care about a raise in the television fee if it wasn't splashed across the headlines each night—-"

River gave him the look—no, not that look,the other look, the one that meant and what time you call this?

"It's downstairs." He led her into the cathedral basement, shoving aside half-finished projects and wood shavings. It wasn't the TARDIS workrooms, but it was still soothing to fiddle and design and engineer, even if it was only someone's barn. They stopped in front of the crack.

"Well then. " If she was surprised, she hid it well. Her tone was equally suited to going out for groceries or a Sontaran trooper interrupting supper. She even reached into her pocket for her scanner device. "A mysterious message, spreading terror throughout the universe, and no one knows what it says."

"Do they?" he repeated, a hint of teasing in the words.

"Well," she set the pad aside. "I could have saved myself the research—yes, research, I didn't just jump in the TARDIS straight away—no one in the universe could understand that message."

"Except us." He didn't need to ask where she was—younger River may break out of StormCage for a shopping spree, but only older River was this certain he needed her help.

River whispered the words carefully, like a snowflake melting on her tongue. Doctor who? The Gallifreyan plea felt awkward: since when did Time Lords ask for anything? They spoke, and it was so.

Explanations could wait.

River glanced at the worn mattress shoved against the wall. "Good thing I brought the TARDIS back. That bed's a bit small for two."

"What—you're staying?"

"I didn't close my lease, resign my teaching position, and risk temporal collapse by getting into an uncontrolled TARDIS just to sleep on the floor."

"You—you did what? River, it's dangerous."

"And the rest of our lives aren't?" That was definitely the other look, the he's-hot-when-he's-clever-face, as he'd called it in Florida.

"I can't ask you to give everything up for a crotchety old man."

"You didn't ask; the TARDIS did. The old girl can be quite persuasive." She laid a hand on his shoulder. "Do you really want me to go?"

"It's been a long time, a very long time." But there's one more thing he had to know, one factor she should consider before settling down with him. "Your parents will miss you."

"I've had time for goodbyes."

She doesn't say I've done Manhattan, but he reads the footnotes to her careful words. "You can have the bed—I'll find us a new one later. I have stuff to do, I won't sleep…"

"I wasn't planning on it either."