FOUR chapters in FOUR days! This will probably be it for a little while, given that I really do quite badly need to sleep and resume my mundane everyday life. I hope you enjoy this.

As for where this is for the Doctor and River respectively, I'll let you read the chapter and guess for yourselves…

"Nice heels."

He looked up with a frown at Clara's remark, following her gaze until he found the source of her amused grin. River had changed out of the crimson pair of shoes currently sitting atop the controls at the last minute in favour of khaki boots ("Better to kick with." "Who are you planning on kicking?" "I haven't decided yet – be good.") before her arrest, and he hadn't bothered to put them back in the wardrobe.

"They're not mine."

"I guessed that. Well, I hoped…"

He had yet to visit River in prison with this face as he'd planned to after Lake Silencio, safe in the knowledge that his younger self was looking after her; filling her first nights with trips to the stars. Random overnight forests had been enough to keep him occupied but he could feel a familiar dull and constant ache settling over his soul; he was missing her.

"You seem… different."

Clara's voice was startling enough for him to realise he'd been lost in some reverie, unfocussed gaze hovering on the red stilettos. "Do I? No I don't," he dismissed gruffly, flicking a few levers on the controls that in reality achieved nothing whatsoever.

"You keep smiling for no reason. I'd almost say you were in love…" She grinned, dancing around the console to greet him. "But to be honest, you're not a young man anymore!"

He rolled his eyes. "If you're going to mock me, at least come up with your own lines. But while we're on the subject…"

Her smirk never seemed to wear off. "You want girl advice? I'm not sure you're old enough yet. But you can come and sit in on my Year 9 health ed. class if you think it'll help."

He scowled at her through the rotor. "Shut up. The thing is, you say I'm different, which is complete rubbish, but anyway; she's different too. Around me – this me." He circled his face with his finger.

"Maybe you're just seeing another side to her that she was afraid to show in front of your young face. She might feel more like she can be herself around this you, because she knows you know her better and that she doesn't have to try so hard to impress you."

The Doctor smiled faintly. "Do you want that raise yet, teach?"

"I told you, you're one of my hobbies. Or chores, depending on the day. Are you going to see her again?"

"I'm going to see her now, actually."

"Oh. Are you sure you want me here?"

"No. That's why you're going home. Off you pop."

"I'm so lucky you're my best friend."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll see you soon. Say hi to PE for me."

"Oh… yeah." Clara pulled a face, halting in the middle of the console room.

"What? You're all eyes."

A strange groaning sort of noise came from her. "It's just that – I just promised I'd explain everything to him. You know, this; me and you. That's going to be a fun conversation… I think I'll do it over the phone, actually"

"Ah, so he never has to see you again afterwards when he decides you're out of your mind. Wise."

"We work at the same school, Doctor, he'll have to see me." She bit down on her lip. "Do you think that'll happen? That he won't want to see me, I mean?"

"Well, he knows you travel through time and space in a blue box with a handsome and compelling stranger, and he's still around. He's clearly either besotted or some degree of insane – same difference – so you should be fine."

"Yeah. Oh, god." She cringed, taking a step away from the door. "You know what? I'd love to get to know River better…"

"Ha, nice try. Although you'd probably get along famously, as long as you didn't sass each other into oblivion… which would be a very real danger. Go and talk to your boyfriend."

"What do I say?" she whinged.

He shrugged, steering her back to the doors by her shoulders. "I don't know. Say something nice?"

"Oh, that's great, thanks."

"You're welcome. Break a leg. Bye-bye."

He poured an ornate amount of detail into a whole portfolio on the Rithean Colony, as promised. He'd been gone a week when he returned to Luna, the notes clutched in his hand. River scolded him for running off, and for not bringing her any chocolates, but the portfolio was deemed a suitable enough peace offering for her to accept his suggestion that seeing as she was currently sitting watching – ogling – the male tennis team, a better use of her time may have been to learn the basics of Gallifreyan writing.

"I don't know, sweetie." She tapped her fingers on the grass, twisting her mouth to the side both to look pensive and hide her smirk. "Muscly men in shorts, or, well, you… I just don't know. Give me a moment to think about it while I watch this next game."

She could tease all she liked. She chose him.

They sat in the secluded corner of the library that was fast becoming theirs, safe from all but a couple of her many admirers that would stroll past with a wink or suggestive comment and make him scoot closer to her with his best menacing glare. She picked up his language about as quickly as he'd expected her to, as a child of the Tardis who'd earned a three-year degree within five months; enough for them to have several tea breaks to discuss the finer points of the civilisations she was studying for her doctorate. When teaching resumed the fifth time around, she snuggled close to him and draped her legs over his without express permission, where they stayed for the remainder of the evening.

It was the early hours of the next morning before he finally left her, sleeping on one of the sofas in the library on a wad of notes in Circular Gallifreyan as a pillow. He left her a simple message in their now shared language, one she'd be able to understand.

And it was happening again because god, she was beautiful and clever and funny and he didn't even care that he wore a grin like a teenage idiot all the way back to the Tardis because he was bloody besotted with her.

He left a translation, just in case.

~ See you around! x ~

He barely paused for breath before his next visit to her; only to buy the biggest bunch of flowers he could find.

Celebrations of the students' achievements were an elaborate affair at the Luna University. And the doctoral graduation ceremony was no exception.

River, honestly, just wanted to get it over with. They called her name – not her real one, of course, but the name that she still didn't really feel she deserved sometimes. She felt her cheeks burn as they started; the polite claps of strangers, kind enough not to let her walk up there in horrific silence but still too preoccupied by the achievements of their own loved ones to make it sound anything other than uncaringly false.

She didn't care. She told herself that as she collected the crisp degree with hands that trembled only slightly, bowing to the faceless crowd because even unloved and utterly alone out here, she could still be graceful.

The crowd ebbed away once the ceremony ended, her fellow graduates being swept away in a warm, humming crowd of proud relatives. She was left in the middle of the deserted hall clutching her certificate, not seeing the point in returning to an empty dorm where the sounds of other people playing happily families would seep through the walls.

She hadn't expected anyone to come for her, expressly because she'd designed it that way. Her parents had been brought along by a bouncy young Doctor; she guessed all three were still wearing Berlin fresh in their memories, largely because she'd kept catching each of them at different points during the day staring at her as if afraid she'd break. Amy filled the air reminiscing about the reckless days of Amelia and Mels, and whenever he could get a word in edgeways Rory asked if she was alright, if she'd recovered well after Berlin, if the Doctor had done anything that required him to fetch his sword. The Doctor, bless him, had left them to it; grumbling to himself as he leafed through her research books and occasionally giving the three of them a fretful glance that was soon concealed by a dopey grin and manic wave.

They'd asked about her doctorate; no ceremony to speak of, she'd told them, nothing special anyway. Nothing worth attending; she probably wasn't even going to go. She didn't really know even now what had motivated such a lie – she wished she hadn't said it as soon as they'd left, followed by the Doctor who'd bobbed around her for several minutes like he was expecting something that he was a bit frightened of before settling for a hasty kiss on her cheek and a comically chivalrous bow that had made her laugh for hours afterwards.

Maybe she was just used to lying, too accustomed to pretending that she didn't need anyone for anything.

"Doctor Song, I believe?"

The voice ran like a current through to River's toes, freezing her where she stood. She dared to spin around after allowing a moment for the cynicism to ebb away, graduation robe whirling around her and pulse thumping in her ears. When after three heavy blinks the Doctor was still there, almost engulfed by a frankly stupidly huge bunch of golden sunflowers, she trusted that he wasn't a figment of her imagination enough to stalk towards him.

The old hall was incredibly dusty; she cursed it under her breath for making her eyes water, because that was certainly to blame as opposed to the gorgeously sweet smile he was giving her which seemed at odds with that big old Scottish face.

"You're here," she breathed, clumsily gathering the bouquet when he pushed it into her arms.

"No flies on you." He flicked the tassel on her cap, pale blue eyes glimmering. "Nice hat. How do you make it stay on, with that hair? It seems against the laws of physics-"

River threw her free arm around his shoulders, yanking him to her with a hand fisted in his jacket in a fierce hug until the sunflower wrapping crackled indignantly between them, and burying her nose firmly in his shoulder. He reciprocated with hands that settled at her back instinctively – this body was almost getting the hang of this hugging thing – with a pressure that was gentle but enough to let her know that she wasn't alone in whatever feelings were driving the need for such contact. "Thank you," she murmured thickly, her voice almost lost to her hiding place against him.

She pulled back, her eyes fixed on a spot somewhere around his collar, and he realised why she'd buried herself away in his arms; a feeble attempt to prevent him seeing the tears gathering in the rims of her eyes that he was now shockingly aware of. "You're welcome." He took the sunflowers back from her to salvage them, fluffing out the crushed petals and avoiding River's unsettlingly intense gaze.

"I… thank you," she settled for, the original words that had been burning at the forefront of her mind becoming tangled in her throat. She worried at her bottom lip, wondering what he'd have said if she'd been a little more confident to stick with her first words, before a sharp inner pang told her she may not have wanted to find out.

He smiled wryly. "You're still welcome. Sorry I missed the ceremony; couldn't risk running into your parents and disrupting the timelines." They'd often asked him to drop them off wherever River happened to be, along with a gentle hint that they wished him not to follow; they could easily have been here, his Ponds, Amy cheering and Rory crying for their childhood-best-friend-daughter.

River smiled sadly. "There was no danger of that."

His hand squeezing her shoulder brought her eyes back to him. "I have a request for you." He bit his tongue sharply as wife skirted dangerously on the edge of it. "Remember when you got stuck halfway through climbing in the window of the school gymnasium at three in the morning, and you shouted loud enough for the whole of Leadworth to hear?"

River clamped her lips together. "How do you know about that?" she asked lowly, an unashamed glimmer in her eyes that looked an awful lot like pride.
"Your dad told me once. Who was it that came to help you?"

"I swore him to secrecy when we were fifteen! That's punishable by a serious Chinese burn-"

"River," he persisted, raising his eyebrows pointedly. She didn't have to answer, of course; they both knew. Amy had been the only one tall enough to reach Mels' dangling legs and pull her down, while Rory had stood by biting his nails and insisting that they be careful before continuing to reproach her for days afterwards. "Start asking them. They always want to see you, and they'll always come when you call. It hasn't changed."

She curled her hands into fists at her sides, severely repressing the urge to hug him again. She'd never known anyone who was so talented at saying the right thing who just as often managed to say things that were spectacularly wrong.

"I'm proud of you," he went on, watching her nose scrunch adorably at the compliment. "Even though it is archaeology…"

His lip curled in disgust; he'd grown used to exaggerating his distaste for the subject over the years for the sole purpose of riling her. Her eyes widened innocently. It was only when she asked, sounding slightly wounded, "What's the matter with archaeology?" that he realised with joy that this was the first time he had outright insulted her profession. "You said you thought it was a good idea-!"

"Oh, shut up. I do; I always do. You'd do well to remember that in the future. Your future, at least. Tell you what, though, I never got a lavish ceremony like this," he remarked sulkily, eyes casting across the flamboyant banners and balloons scattered through the empty hall.

"Get a proper doctorate and you might." She cocked an eyebrow knowingly when he gaped at her, offended.

"Excuse me! I'll have you know I am a doctor of everything."

"Or a doctor of nothing?" she quipped, giggling.

It was such a blessing to see her like this, without the weight of worlds on her shoulders. The thought that in a matter of hours she'd be confined to the bottom of the lake, however quickly he had endeavoured to get her out, made every fibre of him shiver. "I'm sorry," he murmured solemnly.

Her smile was irrepressible. She was bouncing on her toes, not even caring that she was behaving like his younger self. "What for, sweetie?" He looked back at her, and that face like a stormy sky planted her feet back on solid ground with a soft thump. "Doctor, what's wrong?"

He inhaled sharply, as if trying to bring himself back to some sort of sense. Never let her see the damage. She might not have been able to escape what was going to happen to her in a matter of hours, but she didn't need to guess that it was coming. "I have to go. Don't worry," he assured her quickly, seeing her eyebrows pinch together in disappointment. "You'll see me again very soon."

He pushed the squashed sunflowers gently into her hands, watching her with a smile as she fingered the petals lovingly and inhaled the sweet nectary scent of them. "I love sunflowers," she told him, a second before her eyes shot up. "But I suppose you know that."

"Doctor Song!" He drawled out her new title playfully, and all she could think about was how very good it sounded in those gravelly Scottish tones of his. "I know everything."

She pulled him into another hug before he left, this time having the good sense to set the flowers to one side.

"Remember this," he whispered against her curls. "And be brave." As if she ever needed reminding. "You are going to be magnificent, Doctor River Song." And the privilege of seeing his words make her swell with pride gave enough charge to his smile to allow it to endure their goodbye.

He was browsing a bazaar for some unknown present to bring to her on his next visit, almost skipping from stall to stall wondering which version of his wife he'd surprise next, when the Tardis phone ringing interrupted him. Apparently, Clara needed him for something.