Author's Note:

Thank you once again to my reviewers (especially those reviewing each chapter!) - I really appreciate your comments and interest in the story. Merry Christmas to you all - have a safe and happy holiday.

Sha

Last time ...

Then a line of men stepped forward like a last line of defence, the Doctor shook his head.

"There are too many," he told River. "We'll have to make a run for it."

Chapter 6: "Have we done that one yet?"

"Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised or a little mistaken."

Jane Austen

"That way," River pointed to a window on the opposite side of the wall from the door they'd been heading towards. "I'll stun as many as I can – you break the glass."

As one they rushed forward, each executing their part of the plan successfully. A moment later they were bursting through the window to the alley outside. The Doctor grabbed River's hand and hurried her towards the TARDIS, snapping his fingers a few steps away to open the doors.

They cleared the door just as the first bullets reached them, pinging harmlessly off the TARDIS exterior. The Doctor moved to the console, getting the ship into motion efficiently.

Only when they were safely in the air did he turn back to River. "Any idea what they wanted?"

"Besides us, alive, no I don't," River replied. "Where are we going?" she moved to stand next to him.

"I was there because a man named Harvey Smythe came to see Amy and Rory – he has a client who wants to talk to you – well, to Melody Malone," the Doctor explained. "I found the client's details in that office. We're going to see him now."

"I didn't think you'd come here," River murmured after a few minutes of silence. "You seemed so determined that it wasn't possible."

"It shouldn't be," he insisted. "The Angels don't just send people back River. They steal away every drop of time energy surrounding them, effectively sealing them into a bubble of anti-time. Their victims get to live but all their choices and any hope of breaking away, back to their own time, is usually gone."

"And yet you're here," River said simply.

"I'm here and I have no idea why, or how, no idea on the consequences, if there are any," the Doctor replied.

"I've been visiting them regularly," River admitted.

"I know – Amy told me. The vortex manipulator has always been an oddity – a dangerous one at that. It lets you go places you really shouldn't River."

"Including to visit my time locked parents," River said without remorse. "I couldn't let them arrive here with nothing. Once I'd visited the first time without breaking anything it seemed harmless to keep doing it." She smiled. "You worry too much."

"And you don't worry enough," the Doctor said, irritated. "We know what it means to create a paradox River, and what it takes to fix one." It was surreal, how easily he slipped into familiar patterns with River, despite what he knew. He should be cherishing every second with her, not feeling the usual combination of frustration and admiration that often led to him speaking harshly. He'd regret it later, when all those seconds were used up and he had nothing left.

"Oh hush," River chided, sidling closer and wrapping her arms around him.

Her warmth surrounded him and his hearts ached, so much that he could almost feel it, as a physical phenomena. Wrapping his arms around her in return, he held on too tightly, unable to resist.

"How long has it been for you?" she asked, leaning back to look up at him.

"Doesn't matter, a day is too long to be without my wife," he returned.

She flushed and her eyes sparkled. "You charmer," she exclaimed with a laugh. "I'd say we're close to being in sync this time, if you're talking like that."

"That's right, we haven't done diaries," the Doctor couldn't believe he'd forgotten that part of their ritual.

Rather than let her go he shifted her so that he could reach the console, his diary discarded there after he'd written Darillium inside it. Opening the book one handed, he held it up behind River's back and read one of the later pages. "Have you done Arcateen Five?"

"The Butterfly people," River smiled. "Translucent humanoids – the most beautiful in the galaxy I believe you said."

"I believe I also said they didn't hold a candle to you," the Doctor reminded her, earning himself a smug grin because she'd lured him into repeating the compliment.

River broke away, pulling her diary from her bag and opening it. "What about Darillium, have you done that?"

"Darillium?" the Doctor repeated, sure he'd heard wrong.

"Yes, the singing towers," River smiled. "Have we done that one yet?"

"Ah, yes, as a matter of fact we have," the Doctor stuttered, trying to hide how flabbergasted her words had made him. Everything he thought he understood about his last encounter with River was crumbling into dust and he couldn't let on. She'd lied to him at the library, convincingly too, when she'd said the last time she'd seen him was when the towers sang. Why would she do that?

"You'd cut your hair and you had a new suit," River reminisced, smiling softly now. "You gave me your old screwdriver."

"I hope you still have it – I only do a full upgrade every few centuries you know."

"Right here," River rummaged in her bag and held up the little device. "I'm sure you're still swearing black and blue that it didn't happen, but I saw the tears – I know you cried that night, when the towers sang. You wouldn't then, but can you tell me why now?"

"No," the Doctor returned, charmed by the way her features softened as she relived the memory in her mind. "Not that I admit to any form of tears – Time Lord's don't cry, it's written somewhere or other. You really should brush up on your Gallifreyan history my dear."

"My Gallifreyan history is just fine my love," River smiled. "You'll explain it all to me one day?"

"Perhaps," the Doctor watched her return the screwdriver and diary to her bag, distracted into looking away only with the sounds of the TARDIS landing. "We're here," he announced, glad for the reprieve. He had no idea what to think, what it all meant. Best to focus on what he did know, what he could affect. Moving to the overhanging screen, he looked to see what the time machine could tell them about their location.

"The Long Island gold coast," he began, "where New York's richest built opulent mansions in the early nineteen hundreds in an effort to outdo each other. The one we want is Coe Hall," he smiled at River, "built by an oil heiress and an insurance magnate in 1921 – although why two people would need a 65 room Tudor revival style mansion on 400 acres is beyond me."

"This from the man who lives in a magic box with rooms even he's never discovered," River commented, amused.

"Right, moving on," the Doctor continued. "The original owners retired to Florida a few years back, gifting their house to their only son - the man we want to talk to. Robertson Rogers Coe hired Smythe and partners to track you down. Any idea why?"

"The only thing Melody Malone was ever famous for in these parts was her study of unusual statues," River said, frowning as she considered her answer. "I don't think, after fifteen years, that's what they'd want to talk to me about. As far as Smythe is concerned Melody is just a freelance investigator who helped him out once – I don't think he'd be aware of that history because surely he'd have asked me about it."

"A woman who's been in the business fifteen years and hasn't aged a day," the Doctor commented. "He seemed like the observant type - I'd say definitely he'd question you." Straightening away from the console he paced away and then back again. "So it's probably not about the angels. What else could you know that someone would go to so much trouble to find out?"

"I'm an archaeologist sweetie. I know many obscure facts, any one of which could align with whatever obsession this Coe person currently has. You know what humans are like; once they get their minds set on something they're impossible to shift."

"True," the Doctor nodded. "We're not going to learn anything in here. So, into the breach?" he held out his elbow to River gallantly.

"Indeed," she smiled, taking his arm and tucking herself close to his side.

The TARDIS had landed in the gardens at the back of the mansion, where the trees would provide some cover from prying eyes. The Doctor and River made their way to the side where a stone veranda of sorts jutted out, three archways providing a view of the lawns stretching out into the distance. A large window sat on the first floor beyond the veranda, below a bay window style balcony above.

"This way," River approached the window, the Doctor's old sonic already in hand. Aiming the beam she grinned at the faint click. "That's never going to get old, is it?"

"I'm not there yet," the Doctor grinned too. Together they eased the window up enough that they could squeeze through. It was a bit awkward and probably looked worse but eventually they were standing in a wide hallway, ceilings high above, antique furniture lining both walls. A stone staircase spiralled up to the second floor to their right. It was quiet as it should be given the time of night, but the Doctor's instincts screamed that all was not as it should be.

"I feel it too," River confirmed his unspoken impression.

"Upstairs," the Doctor motioned in that direction before treading silently forward. They crept up the stairs, stopping at the top to peer around the corner. This corridor too was silent and still but the Doctor noticed something immediately.

"The doors," River said.

"Yes, locked from the outside, and by the looks of it, not a part of the original design. This was done very recently."

Continuing on to the first room, the Doctor used his screwdriver to open it. Pushing it cautiously open he called out in a loudish whisper. "Hello? Don't shoot. We come in peace."

"Don't shoot?" River repeated incredulously, closing the door quietly behind them.

"They're Americans," the Doctor returned. "Weren't you the one who pointed out that they shoot first before the questioning and answering bits?"

"Yes, for already armed Americans," River replied. "I think we shou-"

"Hello?" A nervous voice interrupted them. "Who's there?"

"Hang on, let me give us a little light so you can see for yourself," the Doctor fiddled with the settings on the sonic screwdriver until he could produce a nice glow, sufficient to illuminate them without drawing undue attention from outside the house, should anyone be watching. "Hello, I'm the Doctor and this is …," he turned to River.

"Melody Malone," she filled in with a smile.

"You're Melody?" the boy, maybe ten years of age, sat up abruptly, his expression both hopeful and fearing.

"Ah, I see you've heard of her," the Doctor nudged River with his shoulder. "Your reputation precedes you again my dear."

"Yes, I am Melody," River confirmed, ignoring the Doctor's comments. "How is it you know my name?"

"My father's looking for you," the boy replied. He glanced around nervously before continuing, his voice low. "There are … people, here, in the house. They locked us up and threatened father that they'd hurt us if he didn't do as they asked."

"People, what kind of people?" the Doctor demanded.

"I only saw them once. They looked just like regular people, except for one thing. They had these things over one eye, like eye patches but not like any I've seen before. I'd say they were metal," he shuddered, "plugged right into their faces. They're creepy."

"Ah," the Doctor exchanged a meaningful glance with River. "The Silence. Nasty group – religious fanatics of a sort."

"They only want to talk to her," the boy pointed to River. "Maybe they'll leave once they do."

"Sorry kid, it never happens that way," the Doctor returned, going for flippant in an effort to ease some of the young man's nerves. If he was casual and easy-going then the message was that the situation couldn't be as bad as it seemed, even though in this case it was in all likelihood worse than it seemed. Where the human minions of the Silence were, their tall forgettable alien counterparts were sure to be too. No point in asking the kid about them of course – even if he'd seen one he wouldn't know it now.

"What now?" River shifted closer and spoke too low for the boy to hear.

"No idea," the Doctor returned. "If they want to talk to you they won't leave until they do, or any hope that this course of action will lead to talking to you is gone."

"So we let them see me and then make a very loud and messy exit and hope they follow us," River suggested.

"Why did I know you were going to suggest that!" the Doctor grumbled, glaring down at her. "Why is your first impulse always to put yourself in danger?" His reaction was too strong for the circumstances but he couldn't help himself. Her reckless attitude and failure to put her own safety first was the reason she'd die, and soon. He'd break time itself to tell her just that if he thought it would do any good.

"If we're careful it won't be dangerous," River returned mildly. "And how could I possibly be at risk when I have my husband here to look after me?" Patting his cheek she moved away, missing the way the Doctor's expression turned bleak and guilty. He'd been there and he hadn't been able to save her – it didn't matter that it wasn't this him.

"How many of these people have you seen?" River asked the boy.

"Um … I don't know, maybe ten?" he replied uncertainly.

"What's your name kid?" the Doctor broke in.

"Robertson Rogers Coe the Second," the boy replied.

"Well that's a bit of a mouthful, isn't it," the Doctor commented. "I think we'll just call you Rob. Is that okay?"

The boy – Rob – nodded.

"Right, so ten men, you think. What else can you tell us about them? Any weapons, either carried or installed somewhere in the house?"

"They have rifles," Rob replied. "I don't know what kind. They dress like soldiers and one of them seemed to be in control of the others. There's a woman too – she doesn't dress like them but they all take orders from her."

"Clerics, and Madam Kovarian," the Doctor didn't miss the way River's expression hardened at the mention of the other woman's name. "Who else is locked away?"

"My sister, Ruth – she'd only five. I'm nine. My mother's here too," Rob revealed. "The servants must be as well, but they're still working because they bring me meals every day." He swallowed visibly, trying to look brave. "Are you going to help my father?"

"Yes, yes we are," the Doctor declared confidently.