This epilogue was a long, long time in coming, and I'm so sorry, but I was trying to figure out if I wanted to end this story where I'd meant to, or let it continue. (Obviously I chose the former; but I'm not discounting future oneshots of other dates the Doctor will take River on.)
Thank you so much to everyone who read/alerted/favourited/reviewed. Thank you again to Angus and Sarah. Love you guys.
The world of the Doctor and River belong to the BBC; and the Hawthorne, Snorky and Fats belong to themselves.
Songs referenced: Ain't Misbehavin'; The Joint is Jumpin'; T'ain't What You Do (It's the way that you do it)
Epilogue: In Which the Joint Jumps
In retrospect, it was rather obvious how much the TARDIS had always liked River; and he was a fool not to have realised it sooner. His old girl wouldn't let just anyone find her or jump into her at their whim… and besides that, in all the time they'd been travelling together he'd never known her to react to anyone else like this.
River was singing to herself as she took a bubble bath, and the TARDIS was projecting the sound through her speakers. No; not just projecting. The Doctor grinned, running a gentle hand over the console as he listened to River's soft croon and his ship's thrumming, beeping counterpoint.
"I know for certain the one you love, I'm through with flirtin', it's just you I'm thinkin' of…" There was a loud splash, a muffled curse and half a minute of noisy bubbles before River started singing again, the TARDIS continuing as though there hadn't been any interruption at all.
"Don't go nowhere, why should I care? Your kisses are worth waiting for, believe me…"
The Doctor sighed, collapsing onto the chair and listening to the sounds of water splashing, of the pleasing combination of voice and electronic humming providing a soothing backdrop to his own thoughts.
After Berlin, he'd never been sure how much of River was incredible intelligence and intuition, and how much was simply a Time Lord's telepathic connection. But he knew she'd understood what he'd been trying to do. A clumsy attempt, perhaps; but he'd been trying to make up for what he'd cost her. A normal home and childhood. Being raised as first a weapon, and then a contemporary of her parents. Her ability to regenerate.
But no, it didn't stop there, did it? She couldn't know that it never stopped, the things he stole from her. Because he knew that one day even her life would be forfeit, her death just another drop of blood on his hands. And what could he give her in return? Fun? Adventure?
No, it wasn't enough. She might be part Time Lord, but she was part human as well; and he should at leastbe able to court her like another human would have. He should be able to give her something normal…
But normal was what they made of it. She'd been so certain, their version could be amazing. Adventure and running and danger and romance; not to mention a spoiler about a pyramid he was getting a rather shivery, excited feeling about.
"Ain't misbehavin'," he heard River singing over vigorous splashing; and he sang the last line along with her.
"I'm savin' my love for you…"
He was on his feet a moment later, running to bang against the bathroom door until River opened it, towel wrapped and curls tantalizingly speckled with bubbles.
"I've just had an idea," he burst out, leaning against the wall and grinning at her. She rolled her eyes at him, a fond smile creeping over her face.
"I thought that you'd given up on your grand ideas," she responded. "Considering how the last one turned out."
He scoffed, waving her words away. "But this is a good one," he insisted.
"I think that I've heard that before."
"And anyway, sometimes you have to kiss a lot of toads until you get a prince."
"That's frogs," River said, not even trying to suppress her groan. "You have to kiss frogs to get a prince. Not toads. I think if you kiss a toad, you probably get a disease."
The Doctor squinted at her, running a hand through his hair. "Are there diseases that transfer from amphibian to human?"
"Yes. No! Why are we having this conversation, Doctor? I thought we'd decided; your plan was not a good idea-"
"Yes, yes," he shrugged off her comments, holding up his hand as he grinned at her. "Except that I had another idea for something. Just answer me a question, River; and it's very important." He paused, dramatically; and she fought the urge to roll her eyes.
"Do you know Fats Waller?"
She hesitated, caught completely by surprise. "Well," she answered slowly, "yes, of course I know Fats. Jazz pianist in the 1920s, singer, composer…
"That's not what you meant though, is it?" River was eying him suspiciously. "He died in the '40s; so no, of course I don't know him in person. How could I?"
"Time machine," the Doctor said smugly, patting the wall beside him; and the corners of River's mouth began to quirk upwards.
"What would you say if I were to tell you that I happen to know of a party he was invited to? Well," he amended, "I say invited, but he was actually the honoured guest. Well… I say guest, but I actually mean, he was kidnapped at gunpoint and brought to play for Al Capone."
She bit her lip, eyes dancing. "And you tell me this because…"
"Because," he stuck his chest out with a slightly self-conscious swagger, "well, I know Al."
"Of course you do."
"I do, he's always happy to see me. He'll love it if I bring a guest to his party. I'll even," he winked, "let you bring a gun."
"You're afraid that if you didn't, I'd just steal one from Capone's men."
He shrugged. "They'd be no match for you, Doctor Song."
She paused, searching his face for a hidden motive, a secret agenda. "No monsters?"
"Not unless he invited some of his own."
She was still eyeing him suspiciously, and the Doctor huffed out his breath in irritation. "Normal is what we make of it," he told her. "And I'm offering you a night out on the town, River Song. A party, dancing-
"1920's Chicago gangsters?"
"That too. Romance, adventure… and maybe just the slightest possibility of danger, River. What more could you want?"
"Only you," River answered with a cheeky smile and raised eyebrow. "I'm even willing to make a concession of my own.
"You can wear a hat."
They strolled through the doors of the Hawthorne Inn half an hour later, and the Doctor thought they cut quite a couple. Him in a white tuxedo and top hat, and River in sheer honey-coloured chiffon, sparkling where the light hit the beaded gold embroidery. Her curls were pinned up, leaving her neck and shoulders distractingly bare, and he could just see the tiny bump beneath her skirt where she'd strapped her gun into a thigh holster.
"I think they're playing this for you," he whispered into her ear. "Fats must have heard you were coming in."
"The joint is jumpin', really jumpin'. Check your weapons at the door, I mean the joint is jumpin'!"
He was almost happy when a man rushed up to them; if only because he knew it spared him the glare she was about to level at him.
"Doctor! So glad you could be here." Dark hair slicked back from a receding hairline, heavy brows and a three slashes on the side of a round face…
"Snorky!" The Doctor grinned, vigorously shaking Al Capone's hand. True, if he had to name a list of the thousand most trusted people in the world -in the universe even- Capone definitely wouldn't have been on it. But there was something almost likeable about him, regardless. He was a charming, amiable Robin Hood-sort with a strong personality and an eel-like way of sliding past the law.
"Didn't know if I'd be able to make it," the Doctor said, "but happy I was able to; you always throw a great party. And now I'd like to introduce you to-"
"No introductions necessary." Capone's eyes trailed appreciatively over River; and the Doctor tightened his grip on her arm. "Doctor Song, I didn't know you'd be here. It's a pleasure to see you again."
"And you." River nodded politely, her eyes alight with mischief. "Such a pleasure for me also."
"I hope you don't mind if I steal her from you for a dance," Capone said, an innocent smile lighting up his face. "It's so rare that Doctor Song and I get to renew our acquaintance; and I have some things I wanted to talk to her about."
He was forced to let go when River glided over to Al, holding out her hand graciously. "You don't mind, do you sweetie? I'll be back after a dance or two."
No, of course he didn't mind, exactly; though he'd be lying if he didn't say he was a little worried what exactly River had to talk to Capone about. (He had a feeling it was nothing good; and that he'd regret knowing details.) But he stood back, dropping a few dollars into the brimming tip jar on the piano and watched Fats play, mesmerized by his fingers dancing over the keys, body swaying to and fro on the bench; until he felt an arm slide around his waist and he turned his head to rest his cheek against River's curls.
"Al Capone?" he asked mildly. "An acquaintance of yours; really, River?"
"You're the one who calls him Snorky," she answered, a slight smile playing over her lips. "And I said I didn't know Fats. I never said a word about Al.
"He likes the nickname," the Doctor said defensively. "He calls himself that."
"Well," River smiled, tossing her head back, "he's just Al to me. And our acquaintance is all business. When I'm in town, he considers me the best of all his men."
"I bet you are, you bad girl." She laughed softly, moving even closer to lean against him and tipped her head to watch Fats.
"He's amazing," she murmured, watching his hands jolting over the keys in a bouncing stride accompaniment to his singing. "I can't believe we're seeing him in person."
"Did you know," the Doctor asked, "that he can hit a tenth?" He stretched his own fingers out, splaying thumb and pinky as far as they'd go. "Most people can only hit an octave."
"Fascinating. You are, as always, a font of information."
He grimaced at the teasing note in her voice, and she grinned unrepentantly at him.
"Is that personal knowledge? Do you play?"
"A bit. Learned from Beethoven," the Doctor told her, puffing out his chest. "He said I sounded quite good."
River gave him a sidelong glance, the corners of her mouth tilting up coyly.
"Was that before, or after the hearing loss?"
"Oi!" He grabbed her hand, leading her onto the dance floor. "No call for being rude!"
"Just asking," River said. She paused, running her fingertips idly over the sharp bones of his wrist, trailing down the back of his hand.
"I learn something new about you every day," she murmured, sliding her fingers through his. "And I bet you're good at it."
"Well... yes." The Doctor shrugged defensively when River stared at him. "No good being modest if it's true!"
She began to laugh, cheeks rosy and eyes bright as they danced; and he whirled her away from him and back again just to watch the beads on her skirt catch the light with each movement. She looked like she was made of starlight, sparkling and glittering the faster she spun; and he grinned, caught in the moment, and loving every second of it.
"This makes three," River remarked breathlessly. "Three new things I've learned tonight."
He beamed. "Three things about me?"
She raised an eyebrow. "There's that modesty again. I've learned that Beethoven admired your-" she gave a delicate cough, "musical ability; and I've learned that apparently, you are able to marshal your limbs into coordination. You're actually not a bad dancer."
"Not bad!" he scoffed, twirling her with a little extra vigour. "I'll have you know, River, that Ginger thought I was quite good!
"In fact," he shrugged, "I may have given her a few pointers before hooking her up with Fred."
"Of course you did," River said, eyes dancing. "And I believe that."
"I don't lie, River Song."
"Oh sweetie, even that's a lie."
He screwed his face up into a protesting frown; and she chuckled, stretching up to lay a trail of feather-light kisses along his jaw.
"It's alright; I'll pretend to believe you about Ginger. The third thing I learned was..." She flushed slightly, dropping her eyes from his.
"This is really what you had in mind all along, wasn't it? Us, like this. That not everything has to be..." She faltered, splaying her fingers on his shoulder.
"Big?" he prompted.
"Exactly."
He shrugged, not knowing quite what to say. No; that wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind. He'd never stop trying to make up for the uncertain nature of her past and future; and he'd never forget that nothing lasts forever, that each day with her was marching slowly but inexorably toward the Library.
But some things were very difficult to put into words. Especially if you were as timey-wimey and confusing and frustrating as they were.
"Well, I like this," she confided. "I like everything I told you earlier; but I suppose your plan wasn't so ridiculous after all. Being together, a party, dancing with my – with you..."
"I suppose sometimes normal isn't so bad." River finished. "Even for us. I might even be amenable to another date in the future."
"Really?" he asked, hoping she hadn't noticed how his voice squeaked in surprise. "You're willing to give my idea another go?"
She gave a wordless sigh of agreement, nestling her head on his shoulder for a moment; and the Doctor grinned.
"You'll see," he vowed. "The next time will be better. No monsters. Nothing with the world ending, or-"
"Don't make promises you can't keep," River murmured. "I don't really care what we face, or what world we have to save. But if you tell me that every now and then, we'll have a night like together like this; then I'm... happy."
"Promise," he whispered, tipping her face up to his, pressing his lips softly down on hers. "We'll do something amazing, River."
"We always do." She twined her arms around his neck; and he pulled her close, impossibly close, with a foolish smile on his face, his hearts light with laughter.
"Remember," Fats crooned from the piano, "if you're tryin' too hard, it don't mean a thing, take it easy…"
Good advice, the Doctor thought. He twirled River around the dance floor and dipped her; before pulling her in once more to feel her heartbeats echoing against his, eight beats lilting in tempo with the song as they hummed along.
"T'ain't what you do, it's the way that you do it, that's what gets results…"
Normal for them was not normal for everyone else. She'd said she liked what they had, that their version was pretty special; and he had to admit, he was rather pleased with it too. All of it, and all the promise of what could come.
And as he spun her around, again and again, occasionally daring to steal a kiss and laughing when she smiled, for just a second he forgot that he'd been trying to give her anything other what they had.