A/N: Wow, the crossover section doesn't see much love, does it? Well, to the one person who reviewed, I love you :)

A few things I forgot to mention last chapter: this story is set between Firefly and Serenity and between seasons five and six of Doctor Who. Just so you know. If I do something "wrong" or such, it's just because I haven't finished the shows yet.

Also? Sherlock. Found my love last night. Expect Sherlock in the near future. And HP; I've got a Drarry brewing.

Chapter Two

My Bloody TARDIS; "The two of hearts."

5

Ten was thinking very hard. He had his glasses on and he was frowning. This was very strange. He didn't like how calmly his previous self—Nine, as Eleven had decided they would go by—was. He was taking it in stride. How was this something that could be taken in stride? What's more, had he really become so immature since his last regeneration that he could no longer handle new situations? And Eleven, he was bouncing on the balls of his feet. Ten didn't want to be excited, either.

He wanted to be in charge.

Then again, given how his other selves looked, he was not the only one.

And, given how the man on the stairs was standing and talking, there was no chance of any Doctor being in charge. Ten was only half listening anyway, his eyes continually flitting over to Rose. She was back, Rose was back. He desperately wanted to talk to Rose. They had hugged in the TARDIS, one of the best hugs of his life, but then it truly sunk in what had happened, at least as best as they could understand the "event," and they had lost track of each other.

At least Rose was looking back at him, too. They would have time to talk later.

Right?

Maybe?

He didn't know.

The man in charge—Captain Malcolm Reynolds—kept calling it the Vortex. It was grating on his nerves. He was about to say something when another version of himself did.

"A crack," Eleven said. "A crack leading to the Time Vortex."

Ten didn't understand about the crack, but at least it was being called by its proper name.

Mal crossed his arms. "Right. And this Vortex—"

"Time Vortex," Ten cut in. He couldn't help it. His head hurt.

He was answered with a glare. "You can call me Captain."

Off to a brilliant start. Ten listened carefully to the rest of the speech, hoping to avoid any further mishaps. It wasn't very likely, he was full of mishaps, but ones due to not listening weren't his style. Especially when there was now a second Captain in his life. He didn't always get on with Captains, it took some adjusting, but hopefully he wouldn't be here long enough to adjust. But if this was the only way he could have Rose, maybe it wasn't so bad.

Nine was getting on with the Captain. Ten once again questioned his maturity level. They were still talking about the "event," and it was very hard not to think of Rose. He had lived without her for quite some time, first with Martha—who hadn't joined them, he thought perhaps because she hadn't been lost, though that didn't explain Eleven's presence—and then Donna, and then by himself. After the Mars incident he hadn't felt comfortable taking on a new companion, hadn't trusted himself with one. If he had destroyed a fixed point in time, it would be all too easy to destroy a single human. Instead he had traveled the uninhabited planets, visiting previously unseen landscapes: he'd watched a purple sun set over a glimmering jade ocean; he'd eaten a strange magenta fruit that tasted of Reese's peanut butter cups born from yellow trees; he'd stood on top of English moors—which had been seen, technically, but when he went they had yet to be discovered.

The Captain asked for questions.

"Have you got any fish fingers and custard?" Eleven asked.

Ten's jaw dropped. Never mind his own maturity, what in the universes was he going to be? Nine looked similarly aghast.

The Captain answered in stride. He hadn't heard of fish fingers, perhaps that was why he wasn't phased.

An unpleasant man with too many guns and too much ego asked a poorly veiled threat and was immediately reprimanded.

A bright, cheery girl waved and said that they were to follow her to their bunks. Just as he was about to follow her, a small hand rested on his arm. He turned, eyebrow raised, to see an even younger girl. There was something unfamiliar—an aura of some sort—about her. It swirled around her like looking into the Vortex, only cracked and broken and tinged with something horrible—horrible and blue.

"Don't follow her," the girl said. "Follow me instead. You should bunk next to me."

Ten thought about asking questions. He thought better. "All right, lead the way."

The girl took his hand, leading him up the stairs, following the larger group before breaking off down a hallway and over to a door. She let go of his hand and pushed in, revealing a ladder and an obstructed view of a very, very small room. Ten didn't like small spaces. The TARDIS wasn't small.

"Think I'll check out the rest of the ship first," he said, putting off descending into a small space as long as possible.

The girl looked at him, and he felt his connection to the TARDIS tingle.

What in the name of Gallifrey…?

"The cargo bay is bigger," she said. "Same on the inside as out, but still bigger than your bunk."

Ten had to work not to be surprised. "Nah, I should learn the layout, figure out where I'm going to be living for the next—next while."

"It'll pass in the blink of an eye," she said, and Ten shivered. Time was wibbly wobbly, and so was she. "For someone of your age."

"What's your name?" he asked.

"A rose by any other name would smell as sweet," she replied, maintaining eye contact as she walked backwards.

"Ah, but a rose still needs a name to be addressed by," Ten said. He could still see her aura, and it was making it hard to talk. He wanted to talk to her like he talked to the TARDIS, and he had the sneaking suspicion she would understand him just as well as his ship.

"This ship is Serenity," she said. "You keep referring to it as 'the ship.' Mal won't like it, and he already doesn't like you." She turned and skipped away, disappearing down a different hallway. She poked her head back, small fingers resting on the corner of the wall. "You already have a River. What if a rose by two names doesn't smell sweet at all?" Then she disappeared, this time not coming back.

Ten stared at where she had been. This—she—the TARDIS—Time Vortex—his head hurt, even with his glasses. He rubbed his temples. He wanted the console back, where he could press buttons and flick switches and listen to her hum until he felt better before walking out the door into the unknown.

Then again, he didn't know Serenity. She was an unknown.

He started walking, doing just as he said he would and exploring his new, hopefully quite temporary, home. He didn't take in any of his surroundings, his mind still wrapped around the girl probably named River. Eleven had mentioned a crack, and her aura was cracked. Coincidence? It was so hard to tell.

Ten gathered himself. The "event" required his complete attention.

6

Ten was antsy. Day Three aboard Serenity, aboard a tiny ship that couldn't hold a candle to his TARDIS. His TARDIS. He might not be allowed to go by his name, but he could call her his. At least in his thoughts. He had tried keeping tally marks on the wall of his extremely tiny bunk, but the first line had produced the sort of shiver that came with wibbly wobbly time, and he quickly erased it.

He and Rose had caught up late on Day One. She had been in the alternate universe with his alternate self—a fourth Doctor, not confusing at all—and suddenly she had started glowing, the alternate Ten had started yelling about Bad Wolf, she had felt a strange tugging behind her bellybutton, and then she was in the TARDIS.

Ten's experience had been a bit more strange. He told her about his companions after her and, incredibly uncomfortably, about the Mars incident. She thought she understood, reminding him of when she absorbed the Time Vortex, but she had done it to save lives, and it had resulted in an immortal, not a suicide. He didn't make the comparison, though; it was hard enough to talk about as it was. He quickly moved on to when the Ood had saved his regeneration after he had saved Wilf's life. He told her about the time before he had regenerated, courtesy of an extraordinarily odd incident with a dragon, a species he hadn't known actually existed. A mythic beast, regenerating into his same body and crashing down onto the floor of the TARDIS with his past and future selves, along with both familiar and unknown others.

Being with Rose was strange. She wasn't in love with him, exactly, but an alternate version of himself. He had slowly and painfully moved on, though to no one in particular. Now, here on Serenity, she couldn't talk to Nine in case she let something slip, or Eleven in case he let something slip, so they did spend time together, but it was awkward. She was also gravitating towards a—fifth, was it?—doctor named Simon, and Ten respectfully kept his distance from whatever was blooming between them.

When he wasn't with Rose he split his time between debating philosophy with Book, being yelled at by Donna for erasing her memory that was now back, checking in on his TARDIS and, by necessity, becoming friends with Kaylee, avoiding his past and future selves, as well as his future companions and River Song, though she was mysteriously absent much of the time, and keeping an eye out for the other River, who also seemed to have vanished.

"—more inclined to forgive you if you paid attention to me."

Ten snapped to attention, focusing his attention on Donna. "Sorry, what?"

She narrowed his eyes. "You are an infuriating, insufferable excuse for a Space Man. Look at all these other Space Men! I've been staying away from your other selves as promised—and don't get me started on that—but the crew here, they're Space Men and they respect me."

"Hey! I respect you!" Ten exclaimed, feet dropping from a nearby chair and settling on the floor so he could sit up properly. "Who said I didn't? And who said my mind doesn't wander? I'm a wandering sort of man. I wander."

Donna groaned. "You've never listened to me, not from the beginning. It was my wedding day, y'know. You kidnapped me in the middle of my wedding day."

Ten closed his eyes. "I know, Donna. You looked lovely. Which I told you at the time."

"My wedding day," Donna repeated.

"We saved Earth!" Ten exclaimed. "I didn't kidnap you, my TARDIS did! And your fiancée was using you to help the Racnoss do the very opposite!"

"Oh, that's real classy," Donna said, rolling her eyes. "Bring up my evil, cheating fiancée. I did look lovely, thank you very much, and I'll never know how he chose a bloody spider alien over me and my lovely dress."

"One for the ages," he replied. "Would you like to pop in on Agatha Christie again? See if she can solve the mystery?"

"It wouldn't do any good," Donna said angrily. "Seeing as you erased her mind. That sounds familiar, mind erasing? Why would that be? Oh, I know. Because you erased my bloody mind."

"To save your life!" Ten shouted. "I save Earth and I save your life and you blame me!"

"Because it's your fault!" Donna yelled back. She stood up, her chair scraping against the floor. "I'm leaving to spend my time with people who appreciate me. I almost wish you had kept my mind erased so I didn't have to deal with your bollocks anymore."

She left, then stuck her head out. "You're still my Space Man," she said firmly. "Not like that, don't give me that look. I'm just saying." She stomped away, leaving Ten a little calmer. Arguing with her was oddly relaxing.

Then River, Serenity's River, walked in, and any relaxation was gone.

"Please don't fight," she said, staying by the door. "I hate fighting. Are you done now?"

"We fight good," Ten replied, then winced at what was not a sentence at all. Her aura was shining like the Time Vortex, golden and beautiful. "Fighting, it's good for us. It's how we talk. We're not actually mad at each other."

River frowned. "Yelling. It's too loud. You make me hide."

"I'm sorry," Ten said genuinely, feeling guiltier about that than anything he had ever done to Donna.

River considered, and then her face smoothed out. "Fine. But don't do it again."

"Pinky swear," he said, again cursing himself for the bizarre speech patterns. It was the light around her, it was captivating. Like home.

"You can see me," she said after a few moments. "Almost as much as Simon."

"Are you a time event?" Ten asked, then winced. "I'm so sorry, you have no idea what that—"

"You could say that," River interrupted. "Not how you measure time, I don't think, but my brain, it's—"

Her aura slowly turned from gold to blue. A foreboding blue.

"I measure time in a lot of ways," he replied. "You'd be surprised."

"I doubt it," she said. Fully blue now, and not a good blue.

"Are you all right?" Ten asked.

Her eyes unfocused and she started muttering under her breath, words he couldn't understand.

"River?" Ten asked quietly, getting up and going to her. "River, what's happening?"

Her hands settled over her ears. "Two by two, hands of blue."

Ten took off his glasses, tucking them into his pocket. He tried to make eye contact but her eyes kept darting away. "Tell me. I can help."

"The machines," she said. "They went into my brain, two by two, hands of blue, hands in my brain, rewiring, changing, I can't, they were in my brain, two at a time rewiring and changing and now machines, machines everywhere, screaming at me, I can hear everything, hear so much, hear your hearts beating TWO OF HEARTS, TWO BY TWO, HANDS OF BLUE—"

Ten folded his fingers around her wrists and she shrieked, screaming like nothing he'd ever heard. He jumped back, and a second later Simon ran into the room.

"River," Simon said desperately, putting his hands exactly where Ten's had been. She screamed again but he didn't let go. "What happened?" He looked over his shoulder at Ten, eyes blazing. "Did he do something to you?"

"No, I—"

"Two of hearts," she whispered.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Come on, I'm taking you to the infirmary." He started to lead her out of the room and she screamed again. The hair on the back of Ten's neck stood up, goosebumps cascading down his arms. Wibbly wobbly again? Almost, not quite.

"The two of hearts has to come," River said firmly. If it weren't for her eyes, he would have thought she was completely fine. "Good two, good hearts, I can see things through his hearts, there's so much…"

Simon gave Ten an exasperated glare. "Fine. Hurry up."

7

River was all but catatonic when they arrived at the infirmary. Simon carefully laid her on the bed while Ten hovered. River was still talking under her breath. Simon removed an entire drawer from one of the cabinets, put it on a stainless steel tray and rolled it over to River. He leaned over, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"River, can you hear me?"

"Two by two, hands of blue," she whispered. "The two of hearts. It made them come back, made the machines scream, but now…"

Simon looked at Ten again, who was acutely aware of being judged.

"Do you want him to leave?" Simon asked softly. "Is he making it worse?"

River shook her head violently. "When purging doesn't start with nothing it starts with everything. The influx of eyes see so strongly cause the influx of screaming hands of blue before they fade away to dying stars."

Ten's hearts raced. He thought he understood her and was absolutely certain he didn't. The blue was cracking with gold breaking apart and taking over.

"I don't understand," Simon said, sounding hopeless. "I'm going to give you a shot, okay? You've taken them before, there's—"

"No," River interrupted. She looked behind them both. "There are two hearts and I don't need a shot."

Simon frowned. "I don't understand."

"The influx of eyes was nimiety and everything was limpid and flooding," she said. "The two of hearts caused a rift—" Ten shuddered at the word, at the wibbly wobbly, "—of black holes inhaling but I culled and winkled out and now I'm back. The doctor sucked the venom from the wound like toxin from a snake."

"I didn't do anything," Simon said helplessly.

River smiled, lighting up the room. "Not you, silly. The Doctor. The one in this room. He doesn't like to be called Ten but that's what you know him as." She giggled. "A rose by two names smells like a corpsified latrine gone south."

Simon looked miserably confused undercut with anger at not being the one to help her. "I—okay, if you say so. Find me if…" He rubbed his eyes. "I don't know. He brushed her hair back and kissed her forehead. "I love you, little sister."

"And you worry too much, big brother," River replied. She hopped off the table, aura fully golden. She kissed the tip of Simon's nose. "Never fear, the two of hearts is here." She took Ten's hand. "Let's run through space and time."

Her hand was small and fragile. "My TARDIS isn't working."

River tapped his forehead. "It's all in the mind." She turned back to her brother. "Oh, and Simon?"

"Yes, River?"

"Ten's hair has gone flat," she said. "Do you have anything for it?"

Both men stared at her.

"I'm a doctor, not a barber," Simon replied.

"It has not," Ten said, running his hands through it.

River shrugged. "It has." She led Ten out of the infirmary without another word, and he gave Simon an apologetic glance over his shoulder. Simon shrugged, sighing heavily.

"Go. If she does find a way to move through time and space, write a note before you leave."

"If I can time travel I can come back before I'm gone," River said snootily. "You won't even see me leave before I'm back." She squeezed Ten's hand. "Come on. You can tell me your name and I'll call you that instead of Ten or Doctor and everyone will be happy."

Ten tripped as she led him away. "I can't. Nobody knows my name."

"River does," River said in a singsong voice. "I've heard her thinking it when she looks at the all of you. It's clouded, I can't see it, but she knows."

Ten frowned. "I don't know how she knows," he said. "It hasn't happened yet."

River frowned as well. "I don't like time travel," she stated. "I could probably do it if I tried, but I don't want to. One moment is hard enough on its own. Besides, you end up with three selves and things that have already happened that haven't happened yet. It's too confusing." Her hand tightened around his. "I tried to hide from you, all of you and River and Amy and Rory, the ones with the Time, but I kept looking for you."

"I, ah, can't know about Amy and Rory," Ten said, disguising the—excitement?—blooming in him that she was also looking for him. "I haven't met them yet."

She kicked out at the wall, frown deepening. "I told you, I don't like it. I want to talk about something else."

"Well," Ten said slowly, drawing the word out. "I could tell you about the planet I'm from."

They both froze. Where the hell had that come from? He never volunteered information about Gallifrey, never. What—why on earth—no. Just—just no.

"No," River said mechanically. "The fire rained down and burned the silver leaves to the ground, scorching the red grass, two suns falling from the sky. Machines came and—" Her voice cracked, and she looked up at Ten with a beautiful, carefree smile. "It was nice of you to offer." She started walking again, practically dragging him along with her.

"I suppose I shouldn't ask how you know," he said.

"Come on, let's sit on the steps," River replied, bypassing the question entirely. "You can watch Kaylee work."

"I don't think she knows much about alien technology," Ten said despondently.

"She knows about everything," River replied.

They emerged onto the metal stairs leading down to the cargo bay and sat, legs dangling beneath the railing. The door to his TARDIS was open and he could vaguely hear noises from inside, but only human-made sounds, nothing to indicate she was recovering. He sighed. River took his hand again. She was stronger this time, silently offering comfort.

"I'm broken too," she said. "It's okay. Being broken's not that bad."

Ten's lips turned up in a small smile. "I don't think I could live if she doesn't get fixed." He paused. "Then again, I'm not sure if I'll live if she does. I'm supposed to have regenerated into Eleven. By all rights I shouldn't exist."

"But you do," River replied. "That's got to count for something."

"I suppose," he said dejectedly. "I don't want to leave."

"Then don't," River said simply, squeezing his hand again.

"I don't want to stay so badly that I'd risk creating a paradox and destroying the universe," Ten replied. "Which I don't know how to do in the first place." A brief pause. "Probably by pushing a button."

"Look," she said, pointing at Kaylee, who was coming out of the TARDIS, covered in grime. "Ask if she's made progress."

"I imagine she's sick of hearing me ask," he replied. "All of me, we all ask a lot."

Kaylee started, looking up at them. "Hey there," she called. "Didn't know I had friends close by."

"We didn't mean to bother," Ten said, starting to get up but being held in place by River's hand. "I'm trying to leave, really."

Kaylee laughed. "Friends are shiny! If I didn't want you around, you'd know it."

River elbowed Ten. "Ask," she whispered. "She's in a good mood, so ask."

"We weren't here to ask about progress," Ten said definitively. "River said she liked the stairs, and, well, we're on the stairs."

"Oh, that's all right," Kaylee replied, wiping her hands on her jeans. "I get asked often enough. She's progressing, though a mite slower than I'd like. All those bits and pieces; as soon as I think I've fixed something, something else breaks."

Ten fidgeted. "I'm so sorry. I'd help, the three of me would help."

"And I said no," she replied firmly. "Y'all'd just be gettin' in the way and gumming up the works. 'Sides, I reckon I know more about mechanics than all of you. Have you seen Serenity's engine?" The last was said with an unapologetic pride.

"Only while wandering," Ten said.

"He's a wandering man," River added. "I heard him say so."

"Yes, I reckon so," Kaylee mused. "Can't imagine having a time machine and not wanderin'." A far away look made Ten wince. He'd been waiting for someone to ask to come along as a companion and he hadn't been looking forward to it. Not that he'd necessarily say no, but the logistics, and talking to the Captain, and whether he'd even exist or not… "Anyway, I can hold my own. An engine's an engine, and engines take a likin' to me." She smiled, and stroked the outside of the TARDIS. "And, as it happens, I've takin' a likin' to this one. Feelin's mutual, all the better for a fast recovery. But," she added, looking around her. "I could never leave Serenity. The poor thing needs all the help she can get."

Ten breathed a sigh of relief. Fast recovery and no potential companionship. Exactly what he wanted to hear.

"See?" River whispered, lips nearly brushing his ear. He shivered as goosebumps once again overtook him. "All you had to do was ask."

8

A week later, Day Ten, and Ten's outlook had changed drastically. He spent almost all of his time with River, who was like a warm bath. Eventually he asked if she could see light around him, and she had laughed and said, "Of course, silly. You're blue like your Time. What color am I?" He said she was gold, except when she turned blue. She started to close off at that so he elaborated, telling her how she mirrored the Time Vortex, and how the blue had cracked open with gold. "It's like a shell," she had said. "It's an exoskeleton. Hands of blue, closing in, skeletal around me, holding me—"

"Shh," Ten interrupted softly, taking one of her hands, so small in his. "My hands are human colored, yeah? Sort of a peachy, pinky tan."

River stroked his palm. "Yes. Encased in Time blue. She put his hand on her chest, and his hearts kicked up. "One of hearts." Then she had put both of her hands on his chest. "Two of hearts." She smiled dreamily. "Pounding around. Careful, you'll burst through."

He hadn't know what he'd burst through, but that seemed about right.

Ten still argued with Donna—always causing River to vanish no matter how he tried to explain he and Donna loved each other and it was how they expressed their affection—and he still talked to Rose, but that often led to spending time with Simon and River as well, and that felt like double dating in a very uncomfortable way.

The rest of the people from his timeline were off limits, he avoided the less savory work Serenity pulled in—which was most of it—and tried to keep up with what Kaylee was doing without overwhelming her. He was one of three, he reminded himself, and that meant three times the nagging.

But River. Mostly River. She was always there even when she wasn't, another mind in his, a golden aura reaching out invisibly. It was impossible not to be with her even when he wasn't with her.

This was especially problematic in bed. Hers was next to his, and the wall between them glowed golden. It wasn't so bright that it kept him up, that wasn't what caused his sudden insomnia. It was like sleeping in the TARDIS console room, which he had never been able to do. Too much energy occupying too much of his mind posing puzzles he couldn't figure out even if he had a full night's sleep, which he hadn't in quite a while.

And, in a way he didn't quite understand, there was a sort of—he refused to think of it as sexuality or sexual tension. She was too young. He didn't know exactly how old she was, it seemed entirely possible there was more than one answer to that, or at least a very complicated one, but still, too young.

Even if Rose had been nineteen. That wasn't the point.

It was three in the morning when there was a knock on his door. Glowing circles burned brightly before fading away.

"Come in," he called.

River came down and sat on the edge of his bed. "I can't sleep either."

"I'm sorry," Ten replied, pushing himself up on his elbows. "Want to go for a walk?"

The concept was kind of a joke, given how small Serenity was. But that's what River called it, and Ten hadn't pushed it.

"No," she said, climbing over his legs and leaning against the wall, her legs draped over his. "I just wanted to be with you."

"All right, okay, well let's see." He sat up, keeping his legs beneath River's. "Do you want to talk?"

"No," she said, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

He rubbed his eyes. "All right. What do you want?"

"I told you," River said, a little irritably. "I want to be with you."

Ten's stomach flipped. "Well, want to sleep?"

River groaned in frustration. "Stop asking questions. I'll tell you if I need something."

He collapsed down, sliding under the covers again. "I'll just try to sleep then, shall I?"

She shrugged. "If you want."

He didn't. At all. But she didn't seem amenable to anything else, and River did nothing that she didn't want to do. He lay on his back using his arms as a pillow, eyes closed, trying to figure out how a young girl could have so much control over his life. He had always been one to fall quickly, whether romantically or friend-wise, but…River was…different, or…

River scooted up so she was sitting by his head, legs curled beneath herself, and grabbed something off the bedside table. Ten was too surprised—surprised, not intoxicated—by her sudden presence to respond.

She frowned. "I don't understand."

Ten looked at what she was holding, forcing himself to focus, and one of his hearts stopped. "That's psychic paper," he said carefully. It shows whatever the holder wants to be shown. Handy for identification and getting in places you shouldn't be allowed in."

"But…" She trailed off, and held the paper out to him, still holding it. "I can't read this. How can I want to see something I can't read?"

His other heart stopped. "That—that's Gallifreyan," he said. "It's the language of the planet I'm from. What were you thinking about?"

"You," she said. "What does it say?"

"It's, ah." Ten cleared his throat, willing his hearts back into motion. "Well. My name."

River ran her fingers over the paper. "I can't read it," she said. "Why can't I read it?"

"I don't imagine you speak Gallifreyan," he said, still in shock. "I do. And, ah, the TARDIS. The Master, I suppose, and the—"

"I speak sixty-seven languages," she interrupted. "Most that don't exist anymore, and a handful I made up." Her fingers never stopped moving, tracing the circular patterns. "And I can't read this."

Ten tried to take the paper back but she had a surprisingly strong hold on it and wasn't letting go. "I can't tell you."

Her frown deepened. "Why? Teach me."

"I can't," he said. "That's not—you're not, I can't."

River slammed her hand down. "I can too," she exclaimed. "I can do anything. I'll just figure it out myself then."

Ten ripped the paper away from her, snapping the holder shut and sticking it his pocket. Probably not wise, it was the pocket of his pajamas, and no doubt it was now permanently misplaced. "I'm sorry. You can't know."

"Why?" River demanded. "I remember the symbols. I'll write them down myself and figure it out from there."

"Please don't," he replied quietly. "My name is—special. On my planet, in my world, my name is special."

"I understand that," she snapped. "Neither Ten nor Doctor are—" She cut herself off. "Doctor is good. But I can't call you that, because you won't let yourself. Eleven's the oldest but looks the youngest, Nine's older but regresses, and that leaves you to—" She smiled. "To be a Doctor."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," he said and no, it wasn't a figure of speech, he was afraid. A good afraid, the sort that made his stomach flip and his hearts go faster. He chased that kind of afraid. He loved it.

River leaned down and pressed her lips against his. A shock of energy exploded, golden sparks cascading through the room. Ten suspected his blue was doing the same. He had never been kissed like this, so simply and so powerfully. Never mind the "event," this would tear the universe apart. She stroked his cheek, slowly, and pulled away.

"I think I'll stay here tonight," River said, climbing beneath the blankets. The bed was tiny, there was barely enough room for Ten without sharing. "The way of the path is always clearest to those who rush ahead with closed eyes."

"That's not what most people say," Ten replied, wrapping an arm around her, telling himself it was due to space constraints and knowing better. "Look before you leap and all."

"Not you," she said, snuggling against him, curling against his chest and looping a leg over his. "You push buttons."

"It was only the one," he said uncomfortably, Wash's angry words still ricocheting around his mind, as well as the bemused look from Amy he had to forget seeing as he didn't know her. "And I haven't done it again."

"Yes you will," River said assuredly. "It's okay. I like button pushers. They're interesting. I only like interesting people."

"Well," Ten said. "As it happens, I also like interesting people."

"'Perfectly suited,' said the princess to the pauper," River said. "'Couldn't be worse,' said the king to the princess. 'I can't believe how our luck has turned,' said the pauper's mother to her son. And, of course: 'It's bigger on the inside,' said the pauper to the princess. 'Come away with me. I can show you anything in the universe, past or present, any planet you'd like. Where would you have me take you? Oh, and by the way—run!'"