The TARDIS door slammed shut upon the sound of sirens and the acute scent of ignited gunpowder.

River let out a tense sigh as her back wedged against the closed door for emphasis, although she knew they'd hold a substantial blast. As the smoke cleared, she caught her breath and gradually allowed her senses to narrow upon the interior of the only home she'd ever really known, despite its changing forms.

River felt a surge of warmth around her heart, and her belly. Jesus fucking Christ. The TARDIS was seriously saying hello to the zygote she was getting rid of.

Why was it that every turn of her life had to be so excruciatingly difficult? She'd spent most of her life tortured, incarcerated or wanted, and just as she was met with some semblance of normalcy, she's unintentionally brainsmacked by her husband with inevitable death. Her own death he apparently witnessed and never told her about. And then, just as she's formulating a plan of action, THIS. Although the TARDIS seemed happy about the prospects of a tiny Timelordish demon running amok, she wasn't exactly maternal. And she knew for a fact the Doctor had no interest in a family—she'd asked him outright weeks ago when she suspected. As he stammered about it being impossible and not a good idea, she'd never seen in their years together that look of fear beneath those grumpy brows.

And she was about finished with lying and leaving, even if she did want to keep it. What's the point of having a child if she's probably going to die soon, especially with a father who doesn't want it? It was hard to think about. Better to just make the problem disappear, one less person to let down, and focus on her own survival.

She took in her surroundings. New console skin. Fuck. Earth tones, dark green, wood trim. Mid 20th century modern. Classy. Music blasting. Van Morrison? Fuck.

She had absolutely no clue whose TARDIS she was in, and she needed to get out ASAP. A sprint to her library workroom would get her to the tools to fix her vortex manipulator, and without thinking, she pushed herself off the door toward the halls, speed and stealth on her mind. She wasn't as young and practiced as she used to be and didn't notice the step down. Tripping, she fell forward, knocking herself unconscious on the edge of the console.

So much for getting out ASAP.

"Next! Skip! GODDAMMIT TURN IT OFF!"

Turing the corner from the living corridor, the Best Doctor was miffed with his disobedient TARDIS who, at times, preferred a captive audience for her playlists. "Really how many times until you get it? I don't want to hear…"

His voice trailed upon the vision of the sole reason he hated Clair de Lune. Sprawled halfway beneath the console.

He rushed to her side and turned her over, with a hand on her neck he sensed she was just unconscious, but the reason was unknown, of course. He looked up in the direction of the living corridor. "Jack! Jack, get in here!"

The Doctor jumped up to the PA. "Goddammit Jack you have one job. Get the hell over to the console room now!" He went back to River and resumed inspecting her, searching her hairline as the liquid arpeggiations of Debussy reverberated through the console room

"You know you never really gave me a job description other than being bossed around and verbally abused… holy shit! Is that her?" In a few steps he was beside the Doctor

"Yeah. I think she hit her head."

"Is she ok? Will she just sleep it off and wake up like you?"

"Yeah. Can you help me get her to bed?"

"Sure, which one."

"Mine."

Jack gave the Doctor's shoulder a squeeze and they shared tight lipped smiles. He got up and went to her feet "This is it. It's time isn't it."

"I don't know, Jack. Maybe." And together they took her to the Doctor's bedroom.

After they got her situated, the Doctor sat beside her, thumbing over the top of her hand. "It's been so long. It's like touching a ghost."

"You know, I can relate."

He gave a bitter chuckle. "Probably the only person in the universe who truly can, Jack."

With an arm across his shoulders, he kissed the top of the Doctor's head. "I'm gonna go and give you space to…whatever is going to happen."

The Doctor replied with rolled eyes. "Just keep your phone on." And as Jack turned to leave, he was stopped by the Doctor's words. "Jack. I don't want you to go. I know you think this changes everything. And you're right, it will. But for the better. She makes things better, and absolutely ridiculous. I think you'll love her."

"You love her. And that means a lot to me. Call soon." And he left. "Muffin!" He called from the hall.

"I swear I will find a way to kill you if you keep calling me that!"

River came to in their bed, although the smell of the sheets was unfamiliar. She sat up. The lights were off but the desk lamp across the room by the chair illuminated the familiar room with dim yellow light. Looking round, she saw that it was more or less the same, except for photographs of herself and sweet Susan above the mantle.

Well that's a place to start. He (or she) knows me.

Her stomach turned and she bit back the surge of saliva that was no doubt preempting the last thing she ate coming up. She made it to the toilet in time, and retired there on the floor beside it, afraid to get up. She wasn't a very experienced sick person, and here she was in what was a virtual stranger's house. She just needed to stop being sick so she could meet whatever Doctor she was up against here, damage control and get back. But every time she tried to get up, she'd start wreching again.

"River?" Came the inevitable voice from the bedroom. Baritone, male.

A knock on the door.

"Ungh." River replied from the bathroom floor.

The door opened and the Doctor peered in, and gasped when he saw her sprawled again.

"River, honey, are you all right? Come on, let's get ya up and back in bed."

She looked up at the concerned face of a new Doctor. His salted dark hair was a bit wild and the more than three days of grey stubble made for a very unkempt impression. But his hazel eyes beneath expressive brows dripped with familiarity. She had never in her life seen him.

She blinked. "I don't know you."

"No ya don't, but I know you." He took her arm and she compliantly let him help her up.

"Are you bloody Scottish again?"

"Aye wee lass."

"You're not serious."

He laughed. "No I'm not Scottish."

"Oh, thank God." And they somehow shared a smile, despite another 180 in the labyrinth that was their life story. His eyes dropped and he focused on helping her to the bed, and she couldn't be sure, but she thought he might be a little shy. "I think I'm not done being sick." She said as he led her to the side of the bed that had always been hers.

"I'll grab a bin. Just lay down. I'm a bit worried you have a concussion or damage. The fall hardly broke the skin and didn't seem terrible, but in the years I've known you, nausea isn't normal."

"I'm sure I'm fine."

"I'm sure you're not. How about come to the med bay and do some scans."

River groaned and put her head down. "No, I'm fine."

"We could jump over to the sisters of the Infinite Schism and get you checked out proper."

"NO!" She shot up. "OK, I need to go." And proceeded to stand up only to be hit by nausea again and made a break to the bathroom. When she finished emptying more bile from her stomach, she washed her mouth in the sink and reentered the bedroom to see the Doctor leaned back in the chair with his chin in his hand, looking at her with a knowing grin on his face.

"You OK, babe?"

She walked by with a scowl. "Babe? Who are you? And no I'm not ok, I feel terrible. Cold."

He got up and helped her under the blankets. "Stay as long as you need. How about a tea."

As he turned to leave, he felt her hand take his. "I'm sorry I'm like this. How long has it been. I didn't even ask."

He swallowed. "A little while," his voice forced levity as his mind threw her the end of time.

It was her turn for her heart to explode. He was so much better at this.

Wordlessly she tugged at his hand, and his eyes said she didn't have to. And her eyes said she didn't care what he looks like now, they were each other's and it didn't matter.

He climbed and spooned behind her, and it was awkward until they settled into each other. With practiced finesse he pushed a silvering curl aside with his nose and placed a kiss below her ear.

She sighed, relaxing. "Thank you for taking care of me."

"Always."

"So, where are we?"

"Last time you saw me, you gave me the list."

"I haven't given you the list." She was hit with his mind's lightning processes, when he's so close and thinking about something very complicated. "What?"

"Just fitting the past to the future."

She turned her head to him. "Future? What do you know."

He studied her profile. "You know I always thought you were the most beautiful when you let yourself age."

"Changing the subject?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Well sorry to say my eyesight has been getting better, if you still have that obsession with the glasses. I'm needing them less and less."

He chuckled into her hair. "Your eyes are better? I wonder why that could be?"

She turned around and gave him a questioning look. He was grinning, she could see the secrets dancing behind his eyes, dying to get out. He was dangerously charming. "You are just full of secrets, aren't you?"

"Mmmhmm."

She gave him a grin. Somehow. She'd never have guessed when the day started, this is how it would end up, and it would be exactly what she needed. She relaxed into him and sighed. "I'm sorry I probably smell like sick."

"This isn't your normal smell? It's been so long it's hard to remember."

"You're so witty, how do you keep the ladies away."

"You assume I only like the ladies this go round."

River was sure her raised eyebrow was audible. "Really? How interesting. Poor Jack was too early to the party evidently."

He chuckled. "No he ended up on time. Have you met him?"

"Yes, he was overjoyed to see me, but I'd never seen him in my life. We had drinks any way, and talked about running a bit. But I'm a married woman with a fantastic husband."

"Well, I played with him for days until he figured out who I was. But extracurricular activities aside, I'm a married man with a fantastic wife."

"Where on earth did you hide her? I hope she isn't upset."

"In the library, where I store them all."

River gasped, and he chuckled into her hair; she practically felt him smiling behind her.

"What about spoilers? Wait, do you know I-?"

"Yes, I know you know. Let's just say I put it together."

She was speechless. And he understood and let it settle. They lay in silence as she clutched his hand and her mind raced.

"Your mind is racing. Would some spoilers help?" She wasn't sure and didn't answer, so he continued. "Jane found out what you're up to, and then I guess we try to figure it out but that of course hasn't happened yet."

She was silent and holding her breath, knowing there was more. Of course, there was more. There was always more.

"And I'm also quite sure you're pregnant, that's why you're barfing all over the place and were off like a shot when I mentioned the infinite schism." He was smiling again. Her body stiffened but relaxed when he kissed behind her ear. "It's okay. I know you're afraid. I've been getting used to the idea for a long time."

Meanwhile, River had been fighting an emotional battle between running away and breaking into tears. And tears won.

She'd spent weeks angry at the situation, at herself, at him, and at the cluster of cells. He never told her to be careful. She'd never had anything like a reproductive cycle until they settled in on Darillium, and then it was only once a year she would menstruate. So who knows when she ovulates. He'd just said that they don't have children naturally and didn't know much about it. Still she should have looked into it herself.

"I didn't think it was possible," he whispered through her hair. "I should have, I had reason to believe this was going to happen…I just couldn't imagine it true."

She sniffled and turned her face toward him, and he could see her tearful profile. "I still don't think it's true. And If I let it be true it'll have no parents like I did. Suffer like I did."

Those words were a heavy weight, and what they symbolized was enough to completely break someone weaker than River.

"Come here." He pulled her into him, and as she clutched his shirt and sobbed into his chest, he held her. "River, you never have to do anything you don't want to."

Even if it meant probable death for them both. Even if it meant that handsome, confident Timelord with a mind powerful enough to get by with drugging him would never be. In order to work, they had to become a sum of parts, cogs in a clock, fitting and adjusting to the movements of each other. He held her until she was cried out and half asleep, silently having faith she would make the right decision and the visions of the family that visited his dreams would become real.

She woke up, better.

Freshly showered and wearing her terrycloth robe River found the Doctor in the mess hall, that was really a kitchen with a stylish island bar they usually used, and a long formal dining table they only used for special occasions, but was constantly cluttered with whatever project made its way there. He stood at the gas range, in the midst of making the perfect omlette. A few dozen imperfects that didn't make the cut were parked arbitrarily, taking up the counterspace.

"Hey."

"Hello Sweetie," he replied over his shoulder.

"I don't try to kill you anymore, you know."

"Unconsciously." He winked at her and turning around to the pan, licked a bit of whatever off his finger. He'd shaved, but his hair was still somewhat of an organized mess. He was wearing boxer shorts and an undershirt beneath a cooking apron. Thank god no chef hat.

She looked over him with narrowed eyes and entered, taking in the mess of omlettes scattered around. "Nice outfit. Underwear."

"What? It's our ship and you're my wife. It's your responsibility to get used to this hot body. Woman wearing a bathrobe and probably nothing else."

"I'll try to control myself."

"Likewise." He smiled mischievously.

"You're a bit naughty, aren't you, Doctor."

"That means a lot coming from you."

He got a raised eyebrow and eyes that were starting to smile. "Now, what on earth are you doing? Are you expecting guests?"

"I forgot how to make your omlette, then I remembered, but it wasn't right. Then they came out too soft, then too hard and then the cheese not melty."

She grabbed a mug beside the coffee pot and poured a cup. "Ahh so you're an exhibitionist and a perfectionist."

"Only for you, my dear."

"I'm not buying it." She half smiled over her steaming cup.

"You could stick around and find out." He flipped the half moon egg onto a plate and handed it to her with a flirtatious smirk.

"Mmm Let's start with the egg." She actually smiled.

"Yes the start of many things."

She stared at him dumbfounded. "Are you seriously joking about it."

"What." He was looking down, washing the pan in the sink and failing to contain his smile.

"My…"

"Unholy condition? Yes, well we were doing fine for centuries until you decided to get fertile." He threw her a shit eating grin just as a launched chunk of omlette stuck to his face. "Hey! Are you sure that's wise, with me surrounded by ammunition?"

River was grinning and chewing a mouthful behind a fork full of egg, cocked back and prepared to catapult.

"Don't do it. You just met me. No telling how I'll reac-" Another chunk of egg hit him in the face.

And they made a mess and laughed like the ancient children they were, the first time in weeks for them both. After they got themselves cleaned up and dressed he told her he missed her, and to come back. And that he needed to show her something.

His mood changed and he took her hand, looking back at her with a sad smile. "This way." They came in front of a door she knew and he opened it, ushering her in.

"Your office. You didn't have to show me here."

"I know. I just wanted an excuse to hold your hand and drag you around the TARDIS again." With a quick smile walked past her and busied himself at the desk.

As his sweet words sunk in, her stomach did a little flip as she took in the shyness he hid well with flirtation, coming from such a handsome body. It was falling in love again, over and over. "I love him you know. I don't want to leave. But I know what's next, it's… ending soon."

Her words froze him as his hand reached into the desk drawer. After a beat he continued his motion and retrieved an old letter envelope. "I know, I loved you... still love you madly. And missed you to no end." He met her eyes for a second. "And as much as the thought of you leaving hurts, I've been dealing with the idea from the day I met you. So I was fine." She looked away, not believing him, and he bent down to catch her gaze, and she saw the intensity he struggled with. "Seriously. Look at me. I'm fine. I became Jane. I was fine. I was better. River, I can't imagine being in your position. Just know that I'll be fine because…well read this."

She took the envelope, old and yellowed, her formal calligraphy forming "Jane," the ink diluted from a drop of liquid. She looked up in realization. "I'm never seeing her again."

"Well, yes, if we decide to do this." And River stood silent, questioning. "Just read it. Here." He handed her the repaired vortex manipulator. "I don't want to see you leave this room. You're going straight back, to think things through. You have a few weeks. I'm going to be right here and help you with whatever you decide. Or you can just tell him and create a new timeline. In which case," he inhaled, "nice knowing you."

River stared at him wide eyed. "What the hell is in this."

He shrugged. "Spoilers." And he gave a last sad smile and left, shutting the door behind him.

A few minutes later the Doctor was leaning against the outside of the TARDIS, smoking a cigarette when he smelled the familiar wafting of ozone that was followed by a flash and thunder. When the electricity cleared, there was River. She walked up and leaned against the TARDIS next to him. "Hey."

"Hey. Had some time to think?"

"Yeah." She transferred the cigarette from his hand and with a defiant look to him, took a snappy drag. He'd never in his life seen her smoke but he deadpanned.

"You're wearing the same clothes."

"Yeah."

"Didn't have to think that long." He took the cigarette back.

"Nope." She folded her arms and kicked at the pebbly, disintegrating asphalt of the street corner. It was either morning or dusk, neither was sure, and it didn't matter. "I never tell him, do I?"

"No."

"Knew there had to be some catch."

"Always is."

"Why didn't you come find me. You broke my heart when you left."

"You told me not to, Riv."

"The first time in your life you trust me, and it's that." Taking back the cigarette, she had another drag. They spent a moment in awkward silence. "Sig. Is that who delivered the letter?"

"Yeah."

"Is it—"

"Yeah I'm pretty sure it was." Another awkward moment. "You know, smoking is bad for the baby."

"Yeah." She looked him in the eyes. He saw straight to the multi layered dominance she'd spent a lifetime camouflaging with flirtation and opposition, borne of being stuck in a time not ready for her. All pretense was gone, there was no need for it, she was in her time now. She flicked the cigarette on the ground and stomped it out. "You should probably quit too."

"Yeah." He grinned at her, his hearts beginning to soar.

"Come on, Theta." She walked around him and opened the TARDIS door. "And if you think this having a baby business gives you an excuse to be bossy, just you wait."

"Of course, Darling. I've raised 10 children but never paid any attention at all."

"I heard that!" Came River's voice from inside the TARDIS. The Doctor chuckled, pulled the box of cigarettes out of his pocket and looked at them as he walked to the nearby dumpster. He crumpled them and tossed them in, returning to their ship. The silly grin on his face would be a fixture for weeks and drive River nuts, but she wouldn't understand. As far as she was concerned, the real work was beginning. But to him, they were that much closer to free. Free from prisons, spoilers, prophecies, foreseen death. Together, he was ready to take on every tomorrow the universe had coming for them. And he'd finally grow into the role of the legendary Timelord he was; not by destroying adversaries or preserving sordid histories or even manipulating timelines. He finally learned that it wasn't about saving the universe, it was about building a universe he was happy in. And Bowtie was wrong, of course. Living doesn't lose its magic after 3,000 years. Sometimes it takes 3,000 years for life to really start.