The Impatient Doctor – Chapter 7
Finding River Song was not difficult. The TARDIS liked her, and she was ever-present in its records. He didn't always have to look for her at Stormcage. Although he didn't dare look through his personal future, he searched out his recent past for her. He knew that she was in Archaeology, so that narrowed his field of search. He also knew that she skimmed through time with as much efficiency as he did.
He could wait. That would have been the practical approach. But for some reason, he simply didn't want to. He had already been patient. He had waited from the time she had died for him until she had found him once more. She had been just as enigmatic upon their last meeting as she had been in the past. More so, truth be told. And she had been deliberately elusive in Amy's backyard.
There was something about her. It wasn't just attraction, although that was certainly present, but something... more. She was one of the few people – and possibly the only woman – who was truly his equal. She was smart, sassy, and yet sensible in her own way. She would take on the Devil himself just for the challenge of it, and he had known a few along the way. He wanted to get to know her, and he didn't want to do it on her terms.
She left him off-balance, even after so many meetings. He hated that. He wanted to get his footing back with her. Maybe if he thought about it, he could come up with a time to meet her when she would let something slip. It was certainly worth a try. His best bet, he decided, was to catch her later, once she had left prison.
The TARDIS tracked her to a notable find in the Ranar Quadrant. A small planet just inside the ring of a slightly larger planet had produced an impossible number of artifacts. Apparently, Professor River Song had been instrumental in disproving the artifacts and bringing the culprits to justice. The Doctor carefully set coordinates for the system, deciding that she likely would have had to stay in the general area for at least a few days after the charges had been brought. It was as good a time as any to meet her.
As he eased the TARDIS to the correct time and place, he felt that the trip had gone more smoothly than most. It was almost as though she – the TARDIS – wanted to see her as well. That was ridiculous, of course. Or maybe it wasn't... River talked to the TARDIS and gently touched her, seemed to pick up on her moods, and generally communicated with her as easily as he did. She didn't make a big deal of it, but the interaction was there for him to see if he looked.
He stepped out the door and made sure it closed behind him. She would keep out any intruders so long as he had the key. He looked around the dig site, seeing definite signs of strip mining, and realized the damage that had been done to the small planet. It was no wonder that River had turned investigator.
He walked around the edge of a blocked-off area, heading for a group of tents that was visible against the sunset. It was a beautiful sky, with rings visible as purple stripes on an orange background, with silver stars sprinkled here and there. As he got to the largest of the group of tents, he heard raised voices. Not surprisingly, River's was among them. He decided he couldn't have planned his arrival better.
He listened shamelessly. She was livid, and she let them all have more than one piece of her mind. She ranted, she argued, and she accused. Gradually the other voices faded, and her voice got louder. He decided a retreat might be timely and stepped around the corner of the tent, out of view.
She left the tent in a storm of movement, all energy and fury and color. He found it incredibly beautiful, but decided not to dwell on that. He stretched out his long legs to follow her, wanting to wait until she had expended some of that energy before he confronted her.
It didn't work as planned. After thirty meters, she turned and pulled a fairly large gun and pointed it at his chest. He made a very quick stop.
The play of emotions on her face was priceless, and if she hadn't been armed he would have been very amused. As it was, his emotions were more nervous than anything else. Why did she have such an affinity with weapons? He supposed that with her sparkling personality, they came in handy.
"Not armed," he told her quickly, flashing a forced smile. "Just dropping in for a visit."
"What's wrong?" she asked urgently.
"Aside from the gun you're pointing at me?" he asked quickly.
She lifted the barrel, pointing it at the sky, but she didn't put the weapon away. "Aside from that... yes."
"Nothing," he admitted. "This was the easiest time to track to you to. A good deal of publicity around the dig. Your name hit the history books fairly hard."
"Well, then... Hello Sweetie. You just came to what? Talk?"
"More or less," he said, his mouth quirking into a grin. "Actually more," he admitted.
"You know how dangerous this is," she said, looking around surreptitiously. "Your future is my past. I might say something... You've always warned me against this."
"I feel like breaking some rules," he admitted. "Tell you what... we'll stay away from my personal future, and just talk about your past. The past without me, that is."
"Why?"
He gave a shrug, and hoped he wasn't blushing so that she could see. Maybe she would blame it on the sunset. "Curiosity," he admitted.
"Ground rules," she said firmly.
"I won't ask about my future," he agreed. "And you don't have to offer it."
"If I don't answer anything, you have to let it go," she requested. "I have my reasons, and I promise it's for both our sakes."
"Walk with me in the sunset," he offered. "I will try not to ask more than you can tell."
She didn't answer, but she did nod. He smiled, and they turned together to walk away from the tents and out across the desert. The sky was darkening from indigo into black, and the stars were greater in number and brighter in appearance. The orange rings of the planet they were orbiting looked close enough to touch. The further they got from the camp, the brighter the sky seemed to be.
"I never tire of the wonders of the universe," he told her.
"Nor I," she admitted. "The sky here is almost as wonderful as Artemis II."
"I love it there," he told her.
"I know," she said with a smile. At his quick look, she admitted, "We've been."
"Well, I am a fun date," he told her smugly.
She smiled broadly. "You can be," she answered.
"What can you tell me?"
"You know that your rules are fairly strict," she told him. "I'll try to remember what you used to do with me. Remember, in my past you were the one who had all the foreknowledge. It made me mad. Every time I asked a question, you hit me with 'spoilers' and wouldn't answer. I got all the lectures about how it was for my own good and how I would find out in time, but it was so frustrating."
"So, what would I approve of?"
"Just the promise. It will be wonderful, but you have to wait until you live it. Words will never do it justice."
"You know my name," he said softly. "Your future... my past.. you tell me my name. We both know what that means."
"If I did that – do that – the situation must have been dire."
He didn't dare answer. The last thing he needed her to know was that he had watched her die for him.
"I promised myself that I'd never marry. I especially would never marry a human. That's what I don't understand," he insisted. "I promised myself decades ago… centuries ago… not to marry a human. Travel with, yes, but never marry. The only time I even considered…"
She smiled at him. "Rose," she said softly. "But it wasn't to be."
He wanted to scream in frustration. "You see… you see… that's it! How can you know what I've never told anyone? You know things I haven't even admitted to myself!"
"If it makes you feel any better," she said gently. "Finding out about Rose Tyler took getting you very, very drunk. You don't speak of her often, and when you do… Well, I didn't ask after that. It causes us both pain, you see."
He took in a sharp breath, and then let it out carefully. "Why would I marry a human?" he muttered. "Your lives are… fleeting. Marriage is eternal."
"There were extenuating circumstances," she admitted. "Besides, how do you know we were married. I may not have denied it, but neither have I admitted it. For all you know, I'm making this all up."
He remembered her face as she prepared to die, when he had told her that time could be rewritten. "Don't you dare," she had told him. "Not those times… not one line." It had been adamant, and it had been honest. She had been willing to die for whatever their relationship had been… would be. Even after negotiating time for centuries, their oppositional time lines were enough to give him a headache.
"Different subject," he suggested. "What were you yelling about?"
She took a moment to shift gears and answer him. "Yes, I was yelling," she admitted. "You've always had the ability to distract me. I hadn't forgotten, but…"
"Yeah," he agreed. "Yelling?"
"Permits," she muttered. "They have permits for the mining. No better than thieving pot hunters, destroying every bit of history surrounding the artifacts, and they are hiding behind a technicality. They aren't even within the parameters of the permit, but I can't prove it. So long as the stolen property is returned, they get credit for discovery and no penalty. They will go on to do this again, because they are one of so many that regulation is impossible."
"I'm sorry," he told her, and he was. History was something to be studied, recorded, and preserved. Having that violated upset him as well. He might like to play around with history, but he tried never to destroy it.
"You may have very well saved a life," she admitted. "Certainly you preserved my career. You always have been able to settle me down. It's one of your gifts."
He watched her for a moment. "I'm not known for being calm," he told her.
"Not now," she agreed. "But you have been. Calm, calculating, angry, excited… I think you've been everything at one point or another."
"How would you know?"
She looked at him for a long moment, and he could tell she was debating how much she wanted to say. Honestly he didn't know how much he wanted to hear, but the not knowing was making him insane. "I've seen most of you," she told him, and then turned her back to step away. "It was actually your idea. You were very careful, making sure that your younger self never encountered us – it's just too dangerous to cross your own time line – but you made sure I had seen and could recognize each of your forms. "
"Why would I take that risk?" he asked.
"I travel by vortex manipulation," she explained. "More often than not, I'm drawn to significant events in the universe in a similar way as the TARDIS. It's likely that we will run into one another at one or more points. You wanted me to avoid that if possible, but if I got into trouble you wanted me to know how to find you. You were afraid I'd wind up in the past and not know it when I had found you. You told me you would always help, even if you didn't know who I was. It was the kind of thing you have always done."
"Sounds like me," he admitted.
"In any case, I got a tour of your past lives. It was very enlightening. You have certainly had some… interesting companions." She said the last with a grin, or perhaps with a smirk.
"Interesting?"
"Aliens, scientists, historians… quite a variety. Lately, however, you've been more interested in female companionship."
Yes, it was definitely a smirk. "You seem very tolerant," he said, not sure how he felt about a wife with no jealousy whatsoever. It wasn't that he was promiscuous – quite the opposite – but it was the principle of it.
"I like most of your companions," she said simply. "You took me to Martha and Micky's wedding. And I really like Jack," she added with a wink. "Most everybody does."
"No doubt," he muttered.
"There are others," she said carefully. "But I think they're beyond your time zone. Let's just say that you have good taste in companions. They take care of you just as much as you care for them. Frankly, I'm grateful. They are with you when I can't be. You aren't meant to be alone... I don't think you could tolerate it for any length of time."
"So, someday in the future, we don't just take off together in the TARDIS and live happily ever after?" He knew they didn't. He had seen the ending.
"No," she admitted. "You would never settle down that way. You shouldn't. It would be a disservice to the universe."
He didn't know what to make of her. Nothing she said was out of the realm of possibility, and yet nothing she said made perfect sense either. She turned back to him, and they looked at one another as the dark indigo sky faded into black, the orange ring no longer visible. She looked up at the sky, and then turned to walk back the way they had come.
He fell into stride beside her, his mind racing over all she had said as well as what she had not. He knew little more than before he had come. He had shared parts of his life with her – some that he had not shared with anyone – and yet every word she spoke felt like truth. Yet she said little more than that. Her words were generic, as he supposed he must have warned her to be. She spoke of his future as he would have to speak of hers… relatively vague generalities. Anything more would risk knowing too much. Knowing the future was dangerous, for it could change fluid history into fixed points which caused fatal paradoxes. This was why he had been so reluctant to come. This was why he'd needed to come. Whether or not she was truly his wife, she most certainly knew and followed his personal rules.
He wasn't even aware of when her hand slipped into his. Their fingers entwined in a way that felt... right. How could that be? He could not conceive of any circumstance that would challenge the lifestyle he had held for nearly a millennium, but he couldn't deny that just being here with her – not even talking, but just being – was so much better than anything else he could think of at the moment. Better than any adventure, any historical event, or any futuristic jaunt. Why was that? What was it about her?
"You're thinking too hard," she told him with a gentle bump against him. "It will be so much easier if you stop thinking about it, and just live it. I promise, it isn't so bad. You may even enjoy it."
He wasn't so sure. The waiting was grating on him, and no matter the necessity he hated not being the one who knew what was going on. Still, there wasn't a great deal he could do about the situation. He had taught her the lessons well, and she was standing by them... his future was clearly more secure than his present peace of mind. Giving up – or perhaps giving in – he gave her hand a squeeze and continued walking beside her in silence.
How much longer must he wait to find out who she would truly be to him? And did he really want to know, if it put him on the down-side of their relationship?
For now, he just held her hand as they walked back towards the camp.
