He didn't think it would come so soon.
He had just gotten used to having her around, wanting her around, and now she was going to be gone from his history.
Lost, like she was just any other companion. River Song was not just a companion; she did not belong on a long list of memories locked away, living only in his mind. River Song was the one who had traveled time and space on her own terms, the child of his two best friends in the universe, who was part of the TARDIS and part of his past and part of him. River Song, who killed a Dalek for his memory with a single shot. River Song, who graffitied the oldest cliff face in the universe to send him a message.
Daft River Song. He wasn't ready to lose her. The whole point of her was that he would never be alone in time, that she'd be somewhere for him. He cared about the mad lady more than he liked to admit to anyone.
There were also sparks…whispers… The Doctor loved all his companions, each in a different way of appreciating them. He had even fallen in love with one once, so it wasn't out of the ordinary. The Doctor is more than a thousand years old; he's bound to fall in love more than once. It's just such a difficult thing, love. It's a commitment he can't offer anyone fully, because the Doctor first and foremost loves himself, with the TARDIS a close second. Loving himself the most isn't such a bad thing when he also hates himself the most.
But then there's River. Crazy River. Melody Pond, another fabulous Pond, his own connection to his favorite people.
River, with her mischievous smile and marvelous brain and calculating but full heart. River, who knew everything but could be so obtuse, letting her insane passions and biases get in the way of doing the right thing sometimes. River, who thrived on mystery and adventure, who loved the same things he loved, and loved him—not just loved him, but was truly in love with what was left of his soul that had more than its share of sins and guiltiness.
River Song, the woman who married him. Mrs. Doctor. His wife.
What a puzzle she was. A puzzle he'd thought he had another fifty years at least to solve, to explore. More chances with his wife at unraveling her mystery before he lost her forever.
He knew better than to dissuade her from going to the Library: time was time and all things must end, even the sweetest and most precious of things. Part of him wanted to spend the week with her before she left, but she would guess there was something wrong and question him. She was already suspicious enough.
"Sweetie!"
The Doctor was jolted from his anxious reverie, jumping off his seat in the TARDIS in the direction of River's voice in the wardrobe. "Yes, darling?"
Darling? Oh, well done, Doctor.
"Come help me pick a dress for tonight. I want to impress the universe."
He walked past the console and snuck into the nook between the movie theatre and the room of broken clocks to the wardrobe, where River was waiting expectantly in only black lace lingerie.
"Whoa—River, please! There are five different robes you could have put on, and one of them belonged to Katherine of Aragon!"
"You know," River said distractedly, twirling in front of the mirror, "most husbands would just say thank you."
"I'm not exactly average. Please, a modicum of respect for poor Sexy. She gets cross when I bring naked women in here."
"And how often is that exactly?"
"Besides you?" the Doctor asked, thinking back. "Well, Amy had too much to drink once at a Journey concert, but Rory didn't exactly mind…And I also met Helen of Troy in her bathtub once. Tip for you—never land the TARDIS in a bathtub. It's interesting to say the least."
River rolled her eyes and picked out a bright green dress. "This one would match my eyes. Are you going to give me a hint as to the occasion?"
As she slipped it over her head, the Doctor automatically reached for the zipper and pulled it closed. "Spoilers. Besides, I thought you liked surprises."
"I like being dressed appropriately for any situation." She bit her lip. "Make that 'inappropriately'. What do you think?"
The Doctor looked at River in the mirror. "It's nice…" Suddenly he scurried over to the suspenders collection to see if any matched his tuxedo. "Hey, River?"
"What?" she replied, looking at her backside from all angles.
"I was, erm, just thinking…what if we went on an extended vacation? You and me? We can pick up your parents—"
"No, thank you!"
"—OR we can just go alone for awhile, on our own. There are a million sights we still haven't seen, and I bet you'd love to see the Firemaid's Rebellion in its entirety."
"That rebellion lasted 60 years, sweetie."
"You know, I bet you'd look as lovely as ever after 60 years. Come on," he said, picking out bright blue suspenders and matching them to his vest with his most lovable smile, "what do you say? A century-long cruise? See if we can get into trouble in 18th century France?"
River's eyes lit up with a real, burning hope. After all, he was basically offering her a lifetime of commitment as a companion. Instead of randomly meeting all over the place, they could be together for more than a few weeks at a time. She'd refused him after the death of her parents, but that was for his sake and not hers. Now that they were both over the pain of the Ponds' departure, they could be together.
Almost like a real married couple.
"I'd love that." She grinned. "I really would. Could we be back in time for the Library trip?"
Hang the Library trip!
Don't go. Please don't go. Please oh please oh please don't go and get yourself killed, you mad lady with a gun. Especially not for me.
The Doctor hid his screaming thoughts. "Sure, we could. A million year vacation and you won't be gone a whole week, coming right up! Now, to start off, why don't we go to the bell-flowers of Flond 6?"
He skipped out of the wardrobe as she struggled out of the green dress, deciding against it, and prepared to chart a course for everywhere and anywhere in the universe.
The Doctor and the mad lady. His mad lady. Let them run together for a tiny eternity and then he could say goodbye. He wasn't changing the future, he was postponing it a few lifetimes: he had a wife to learn inside and out and he had a feeling all of time and space still wouldn't be enough of a dimension to figure every part of her out.
"Actually, sweetie, I have sort of a big meeting tomorrow—it's pretty big, and it's not that I don't trust your navigation skills, but I should probably go to it and then we can head off for our big thing. Sound all right?"
He stopped in his tracks. "A meeting tomorrow? You want to wait another day to start our seventh honeymoon?"
"I don't want to, it's just a requirement for the expedition. Come on, old boy, it's not exactly a dealbreaker, is it?"
She stuck her head out from the wardrobe door, expecting an answer.
If he dropped her off tonight, he knew he wouldn't be able to go back and get her. He just wouldn't have the strength to stop time again to save her, knowing where she was going. Having her on his TARDIS and running away already scared him enough.
The Library had to happen.
This night would be the last night.
Summoning up his best brave face, the Doctor lied to his wife. "Hang Flond 6. I know the perfect place for a date with a crazy Time Lady."
"You didn't answer my question."
"Of course it's not a dealbreaker. I'll drop you off tonight for your big meeting."
"Then we can go on an adventure?"
"Our million more adventures. Yes. And I know just what you should wear."