River Song was bored. Diabolically bored. So diabolically bored it could be potentially fatal if not immediately rectified. She ran her slim pale fingers through her brown-blonde mass of curls and exhaled deeply. Sat, cross legged, on a grey plastic chair, next to a metal framed bunk-bed, River stared through the thin cylindrical steel bars of her prison cell. On the north side of the large spacious, but extremely dull, prison cell, there stood a small white cabinet which on it lay a small blue, battered book. However, River was staring directly at the guard who was standing tall and firm in one position, a large disintegrator gun hung over his left shoulder. He wore a neat black military coat with the Stormcage logo emblazoned on the right breast pocket. River Song shifted slightly, moving her feet from the chair she sat on to the floor. Immediately, the guard's hand jerked towards his gun. River smiled, but only slightly. She had been given the best guard in the whole of the Stormcage unit after the hallucinogenic lipstick incident four months ago. Of course, she has only done it so that she could get The Doctor out of trouble, the foolish man.

Last time, it had been dangerous. He had come far to close to discovering the truth of who she was. River knew she couldn't keep this charade going on forever, but she couldn't bring herself to do it, knowing it would hurt him. She knew the truth would rip his hearts from his body and tear them into a million pieces. She knew the truth would kill him.

One small, tiny, almost indescribable tear rolled down River's pale cheek. She wiped it away with the back of her hand and wiped it on her khaki green tank top. She missed him. She knew she missed him. The pain was not only emotionally ravaging, but physically as well. She wanted to cry and weep so much that her throat was permanently constricted, attempting to hold back the tears. She was like Starsky, he was like Hutch; they didn't work without each other.

Suddenly, a raspy voice crackled through the guard's radio device,

'Station 231 to Station 670, are you receiving? Good, we've just sent down prisoner 7620173849 to your station. He will arrive in approximately one minute.'

The next minute passed like an eternity. River was terribly confused; there was only one cell at Station 670, hers. And she wasn't allowed visitors or calls and under no circumstances was anybody allowed to enter her cell. River's reputation had a certain type of sting to it.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Gentle footsteps became louder and louder, the sound of breathing became heavier and heavier until came the voice of the impossible,

'And I tried to tell her, "look Marilyn, it's not going to work, I can't be The Doctor Monroe, it just doesn't work", but no, she wasn't having it, and then she tried to take my bowtie! Honestly, if she was trying to get me to like her she was going the wrong way about it…'

River rose from her seat in a state of shock. The metal door swung open and crashed loudly against the white brick wall.

'Hello sweetie.'

River stood in silence. She scanned the man before her, from black heeled boot night right the way up to the ridiculous mop of wild brown hair.

'You stole my line.'

He grinned that silly grin he did when he knew he was right. He clicked his fingers at the guard who had accompanied him, beckoning for him to leave. The guard grunted in annoyance but left; he had bigger Silurians to fry, as it were.

The Doctor strolled casually over to River and sat on the lower bunk of the bed next to her,

'So, how are you then?' The Doctor asked awkwardly, untying his top button.

River was still confused, but pushed it aside and talked,

'I'm fine, Doctor, what on Earth are you doing here?'

The Doctor stopped smiling all of a sudden, a harsh, sharp look on his face. His voice trembled and quivered, shaken by some kind of irrevocable fear,

'I think I killed someone.'

River sat motionless, 'Who was it?'

'A nobody; some random person who…who got in the way.'

It took a full thirty-two seconds for River to realise that The Doctor was crying. She got up from her uncomfortable seat and sat on the bed next to him. She put an arm around his shoulders and let her head droop into the crook of his neck. He put his arm around her waist and hugged her, taking in the calming scent radiating from her hair. They sat like this, quietly, until The Doctor, being The Doctor, interrupted the kind-of-nice peace by asking,

'So, River, what are you doing in here?'

She let go of him, stood up and smiled, but did not reply.

'Fine, who are you, really?' The Doctor asked, trying to get more information. Again, no answer whatsoever.

He turned to her and gave River the puppy dog eyes. He begged, but she wasn't listening. She hadn't noticed him standing. She hadn't noticed him walking towards her. She hadn't noticed the guard had just left. She had completely failed to notice that The Doctor was kissing her.

A million thoughts rushed and ran through her head. But only one decision, tell him the truth or just stall? She ignored both options and slowly began to kiss him back. Their lips felt like they were made to be locked onto one another's. The kiss was gentle, like the sensation when you run your fingers through grass on a cool summer's day. It was sweet and tender, like a first kiss between two lovers, and they began to grasp at each other. The Doctor placed his hands on her waist, and she put her hands on the back of his neck. They broke apart and let their foreheads collide gently into one another's.

'River, please, who are you?' he murmured quietly, placing his hands on either side of her face, one hand on each cheek. She felt like crying again.

'You will find out very soon,' she whispered back, 'and I promise you that you will. Until then, I can't tell you anything. I'm so, so sorry.'

The Doctor sighed out in a failed kind of way, a sigh to recognize that he was giving up. He walked over to the bunk bed and laid down, putting his hands on the back of his head. River Song casually walked over, several more tears strolling down her cheeks.

'Budge up. You might be skinny as hell but you don't half take up a lot of space.' She joked. He smiled, his eyes remaining shut. He moved slightly and she led down next to him. To be honest, there wasn't much room, but it just felt kind of right.

They kissed again. It felt like so many things. A symphony. A rainbow. Fish fingers in custard. A large waterfall running down a cliff face. A broken record. Their fingers became entwined as the kiss deepened. Their lips moved ferociously against each other, changing direction of their lips at will. Their tongues slipped near each other and tied themselves in knots. He ran his fingers through her bouncy curls and she undid and threw his bowtie across the room.

'I don't know who you are River Song,' The Doctor said, and before resuming their perfect kiss, he added, 'But I like you.'