Dancing
She looked exactly as he remembered her that night. Pearls cascading around her neck, peeking out from beneath a full length cloth coat, dressed for a wedding she'd managed to not attend twice. As she closed the TARDIS door behind her he saw her slip the well-worn diary into one of the coat's generous pockets. Her past. His too, now. Its contents no longer concealing the mysterious future that had loomed before him for so long. He'd been to the beginning of the book and back again. Whatever the remaining empty pages would hold, from now on they would write it together, side by side. And even if he did know that the Byzantium and the Library were still on her horizon, there was still so much more in-between. Too much living to mourn just yet. And if nothing else, the past two hundred years had taught him that if time couldn't be rewritten then it could, at the very least, be cheated. And so he would.
But that was far far away. And this was tonight and she was stunningly beautiful and oddly melancholy as she removed her coat and tossed it over the railing, climbing the stairs to join him at the console.
"How did it go?" He tried to make it casual, tossing the question her way as he fiddled with some meaningless knob in feigned distraction.
"You know as well as I." Her voice was quiet. Subdued. Weary. And why not. She'd just been through an entire reboot of the universe. But he knew that wasn't only it.
"As I recall, you were quite cryptic." He looked her way and smiled. "And you managed to get me to propose. A bit early, if I remember correctly, but still." He pointed a finger at her. "You did say 'yes'."
Something more like her real smile pulled at her lips. "I did spin you about a bit, didn't I."
"Like a top." He edged his way near her, flipping levers. "But then you always do, dear." He beamed at her.
"Oh shut up." The smile broke full upon her face. A sun emerging from behind the clouds. And yet there was still a hint of shadow. An undercurrent of reserve. Something…amiss. Turning from him she played absently with the controls. He watched her.
"River…are you all right?" He already knew the answer, but he asked anyway. The quick glance that refused to meet his eye and the now-contrived smile were all the reply he needed. Was he just as transparent to her? Probably. Yes.
"Of course I'm all right. Why wouldn't I be?"
"I don't know. You tell me."
There was nothing furtive about the look of exasperation she shot his way. He'd finally worked his way over to standing beside her, and he leaned back against the console, arms crossed, waiting.
For a moment she looked as if she were about to speak, but then, with a slight shake of her head she started to step away, her hand already reaching for a lever as an excuse to escape. But he caught her arm before she slipped out of reach.
"River…."
She tensed slightly beneath his touch, as if to pull away, but then she stopped resisting and allowed herself to meet his gaze with glistening eyes. He released his grip, his hand slipping down her arm until it held hers, so warm and familiar in his grasp.
"Tell me."
The half-smile was sad.
"It's nothing." He was about to contradict her, when she continued. "Except…there are times…when I'm with him…I find myself getting lost in the story. And knowing everything that still lies ahead for him—everything he's going to have to go through…it's difficult to watch. And more difficult to be a part of, knowing I'm not able to change any of it."
"Foreknowledge is a dangerous thing."
"Says the man in the Doctor suit."
"Touché."
She let her hand slip from his and joined him, back to the console, her shoulder pressed against his. "The younger he gets, the more he doubts me." She took a deep breath. "I'm not sure I can do this." Her voice caught slightly. "Each time…watching you slip further and further away…."
"But I'm not really, you know. I'm right here. And I know perfectly well who you are."
"Yes…you do." Her eyes locked with his. "And thank you."
He was fairly sure he knew what she meant, but he raised a quizzical eyebrow, nonetheless.
"For being here…each time. Afterwards. To remind me."
So she did know. Which was fine. He'd never meant for it to be a secret; there just never seemed to be the need to make a point of it outright.
She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. He had seen Amy kiss Rory that way a hundred times, and for all its lack of passion, it never failed to make the Roman blush—the why of which he'd never understood until this moment when he felt his own cheeks flush under the chaste touch of River's lips.
Who knew love could be so humbling.
She leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed. If only he could tell her how very close she was to her freedom. How near she was to being shed of his younger self for a long, long while. Of no longer having to pretend.
But of course, he couldn't. Spoilers worked both ways.
Instead, he rested his head atop her tangle of curls and pressed a kiss into her hair. The faintest hint of perfume lingered about her. Funny how he noticed that now.
Her fingers found his and interwove themselves, connecting them further. They remained as they were for a long time, saying nothing, the console thrumming behind them with a low hum of satisfaction. He closed his eyes as their breathing came into tandem, shutting out all thoughts of what had been or what was yet to be, content to remain in the moment, for as long as the moment would last.
Which couldn't be forever. She stirred finally and they broke apart; but this time her smile was graced with its usual wry twist and her eyes danced. The weight she'd brought into the TARDIS seemed to have gone. She fairly floated.
He took his cue.
"Where to, then, Doctor Song? There's a nebula in the Gorn Belt that oscillates on eight frequencies at once and they say it sets the asteroids vibrating so that they sound like a string quartet playing Mozart's Minuet in E Flat. It's considered one of the Eight Musical Wonders of the Universe."
"It sounds amazing." She took his hand in both of hers and pulled him away from the console. "But I have this sudden urge to go dancing."
"Dancing…?" For some reason he felt the pressing need to clear his throat. "Well…I suppose I can manage that. We could try the Waldorf Astoria on New Year's Eve…Guy Lombardo, circa 1963 might be nice…although there's this planet where everyone tap dances instead of walks—of course all the inhabitants have three legs so it does get a tad on the noisy side, but it might be fun to give it a go for a bit…."
She pulled him closer.
"Not quite what I had in mind, my love."
Nor he. But it was his turn to do the spinning this time.
"Oh!" He pulled away and dashed back to the console, pulling the monitor around as he furiously punched at the keyboard. "There is an indigenous tribe on the third planet in the Covarie System where they have a ceremonial rain dance that goes on for three solid months…it's a very complex dance, from what I understand, and hard to pick up…but of course a month is about seven hundred and ninety-two days long, so we'll have plenty of time to get the hang of it."
He glanced at her over his shoulder and saw her shaking her head, bemused. He grinned innocently at her. "Still not what you had in mind?"
"In point of fact, that's precisely what I was thinking. Sounds marvelous! Let's go..." She reached past him to engage the lever. He stopped her before it was half-way down.
"Actually…."
She arched an eyebrow at him.
"…on second thought…."
She merely waited, letting him suffer. The need to clear his throat returned. She was enjoying this too much.
"Perhaps something a little more…intimate…."
Her hand came off the lever and she heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Well…if you'd rather stay in…."
She was incorrigible. He shook his head as he wrapped her in his arms. "When will I ever learn."
He felt her chuckle deeply against his chest, both his hearts vibrating in harmony to it.
"Never, I hope."
If only.
His mind cast out briefly towards the future again, but he thrust those thoughts away.
The future would take care of itself. The woman in his arms had taught him that.
Now was all that mattered. Now was the most important moment in Time.
And when he was with River, it always would be.