A/N: This chapter is primarily fluff. Enjoy.
They don't end up falling into the volcano, though they do get thrown out of the restaurant quite literally. He blames the Sontaran battle-fleet also in attendance, though River arches one eyebrow and ribs him about forgetting that the restaurant was in Sontaran occupied space in this century.
He pouts, until River laughs and turns from the console to cheer him with a kiss. She's humming softly and in a positively celebratory mood. "At least you got the right century this time, sweetie - last restaurant we tried had yet to open and the one before that had been demolished a millennium previous. Spoilers - that may have been our doing. And really, dinner was lovely."
The Doctor's lips twitch up against his will. River's good mood is infectious, and he'd be a bigger idiot than he is to dwell on minor scheduling hiccups when he's got his wife in front of him for the first time in longer than he's prepared to admit to. "Even with the Sontarans glaring daggers at us the whole meal?"
"Oh yes," River grins up at him, unrepentant, "though they really ought to have known better than to try actual daggers. I was looking forward to dessert."
He wraps his arms around River and they sway gently to the hum of the TARDIS, back in the vortex and safely out of reach of angry Sontarans. He tactfully doesn't mention River's role in the dagger incident. "I'm sure we've something for dessert in the kitchens."
River disentangles herself from his arms, lacing his fingers with hers instead. "Or I could just have you for dessert."
The Doctor's hearts race at the suggestion, sending heat crawling over his skin. River is already walking them out of the console room, her hips swaying enticingly. He swallows, hard. "I think that could be arranged."
"Good."
He's entirely too distracted by her naughty smirk and wild hair and all those curves to realize where they're going until her hand is on the door. Their bedroom. The one he hasn't been in since he was last with her on Luna.
It looks exactly like she must have left it the last time this version of her was there - the TARDIS always favors River and never mind that he loses half his notes and books as the TARDIS shifts around timelines to accommodate his wife. The Doctor tries valiantly to hold on to that fleeting sense of outrage and wonder as he glances around their room, taking in the different journals and books and clothes scattered about. Anything to fight against the crushing wave of sorrow that weighs him down when he imagines how dusty and disused this room would be if it were the one in his personal timeline.
His fingers clench tightly around River's, and she turns to him, searching his face. He shuts his eyes and tugs her against him, breathing her in until the wave passes. Reminding himself that she is really, truly here.
River hums soothingly against him, her free hand carding through his hair. "What's wrong, Doctor?"
"Missed you," he blurts out, raw and wounded by the sight of her in their long lost bedroom. It's harder to hide from her, here. Harder to pretend that he's all right when the elation at seeing her and despair at losing her are busy warring in his hearts.
But River always knows. She presses closer to him, tucking her head under his chin and bestowing a kiss to the fabric over his left heart. "I'm here now."
It's not enough. It doesn't need to be said. They've both been married a long time from either perspective and they both know - they always miss each other and it's never enough time. And he is wasting it like a foolish old man, seeking out River's comfort for her loss when she's standing right in front of him.
The Doctor shakes off the melancholy and opens his eyes, tipping River's chin up for a soft, apologetic kiss. A kiss that quickly deepens, becoming decidedly less innocent. When the Doctor pulls back, resting his forehead against River's and tracing his thumb over her wrist, the solemn moment already tucked away. "Yes, you are. Here in our bedroom. And I believe I promised you dessert."
River's fingers trace his bowtie as she laughs, low and delighted and filthy. "Best get to it, husband. I'm positively famished."
They maneuver across the threshold of their room, lips and limbs already entangled and clothing rapidly disappearing. But when they tumble into their bed, their fingers are still laced together.
...
They make love on their own bed in the TARDIS, with breaks for actual dessert (River lets him have fish fingers and custard and even steals a few). They read to each other and debate Sontaran politics and River unearths her favorite pair of handcuffs.
Eventually though, River curls around him and falls into an exhausted sleep. She's probably worn herself ragged preparing for her lecture. The Doctor smiles fondly and runs his hands soothingly across her back until the creases at the corners of her eyes smooth and he knows that the nightmares are held at bay.
He doesn't sleep. He doesn't want to waste a single minute of their stolen time together. And it would be a waste to sleep, when he could be taking in the magical curl of her hair, the flutter of her eyelashes against his chest, the smooth dip of her waist, or the flawless skin of her back, Time Lord healing masking all the places it has knitted back together again and again.
He can't stay with her long. Time is already tugging at him, a sick, sinking pit between his hearts that tells him he cannot spend the year with her now. Just as her eyes had spoiled him on his last visit. He tells himself that the universe can give them a few days, and he shoves aside that wrenching, tugging feeling, holding River tighter and resisting the urge to wake her again. River deserves a moment of peace - he knows better than anyone that her sleep is often anything but peaceful.
When River wakes, she is full of sleepy innuendos to hide the shadow behind her eyes. He lets her kiss him and press him back into the bed instead of asking because he knows he's guilty of the same tactic, more than once. They're both hiding the damage from one another, and he doesn't dare call River out on hers when he cannot face his own.
Instead he meets her kisses fervently, sliding his hands across her back and hips as she rises over him and plants her hands over his hearts.
...
It's not until they're digging in the wardrobe for clothing, freshly scrubbed and almost sated, that he asks her what she wants to do next. "So, River, where to now?"
"You can just drop me back on Luna, sweetie."
The Doctor's hearts drop immediately. River's eyes stay fixed on the mirror, sizing up two different jodhpurs that both look as though they will be dangerously distracting, and he hopes she doesn't notice. Time presses in on him, so he grins in defiance of it and crowds her. "Nonsense. What's so important on Luna?"
"My job?" When he only gestures that away as not important, River sighs and meets his eyes in the mirror. "I need to find a place still, and I'd like to have that settled before I go tearing through another Sontaran battle fleet, my love."
He considers this for a long moment. Long enough that River glances down again, selecting the darker jodhpurs and shoving the others back onto a revolving rack of her clothes. He remembers her nerves in her lecture. Her surprise that he'd stayed when he'd shown up the last time. It's not rewriting really, just a little editing. "Don't I get a say in our new place?" He keeps his voice light and affronted to hide the thumping of his hearts.
"Our place?" River regards him nervously, but some of the creases at her eyes have dissipated again. "And will you be paying for your half with Roman ducats or credit chips, or were you just going to flash your psychic paper and hope for the best, as usual?"
The Doctor blushes and shuffles his feat, gesturing wildly. "Fine. Your place. So long as I have a key."
One of River's eyebrows arches, her hand settling distractingly on her bare hip. "I don't have a TARDIS key."
"You don't need a TARDIS key," he counters, and then bops River's nose. "We'll always let you in."
River scrunches up her nose, but now she's properly smiling and the sight is breathtaking, as always. "You'll never need a key either, Doctor."
He can't resist pouting slightly even though her locks at Luna do not require a physical key and he's always had access. He's suddenly ridiculously hopeful that he's always had access because he's always had access. Because he goes with her now. "I never have a key to anything."
River gives him an incredulous look. "You always have at least one TARDIS key on your person, and I happen to know that you have at least two dozen more keys in your various coat pockets."
"That doesn't count," he mumbles, eyeing River through his fringe and watching her face morph into exasperated fondness. She knows perfectly well that he cannot remember what most of those keys belong to, or - even if he can, he's likely lost it. He shuffles his feet and refuses to admit to that.
"Fine," River rolls her eyes, shoving his trousers at him and pushing him toward his shirt rack. "You can have a key. But you're going to have to visit the open houses with me, and I don't want to hear one word about being bored!"
"Promise!" He kisses her boisterously, grinning as he pulls away to shove on his clothing.
As long as River brings him with her, he'd gladly tour every house on Luna, or go to the shops, or the other million little tasks he discovered the last time he stood still with her on the moon.
...
He dutifully trails around after her as they visit open houses and accost realtors. He bounces on the beds and fiddles with the appliances and generally tries to be as involved as possible in letting River know that none of these are The House.
For her part, River eyes him with a look that seems to simultaneously contain relief, gratefulness and annoyance. It makes him want to snog her. So he does, as often as possible, behind the realtor's back. Dragging her off to show her the garden or the kitchen or the roof terrace before anyone else notices their absence.
Of course, it is the very last house they visit. The Doctor rocks back on his heels, catching River's hand when he sees the not-blue door. "This one."
"Are you sure, sweetie?" Her voice is tinged with sarcasm, "You've not inspected every square meter to make sure that the TARDIS could park at your leisure."
He bops her nose for her sass and tucks her into his side, saying nothing.
River melts into him delightfully, swaying easily with him and regarding the house across the quiet street. Finally, she sighs, thoughtful. "The door will have to be blue."
And when he looks down at her in surprise, she is smiling up at him, just a touch hopeful and mischievous. How is he supposed to resist tugging her even closer and kissing her until they are breathless? "The bluest blue."
...
