I'm sorry it's been so long. I can't promise anything in the future- right now I'm kind of drifting away from this fandom, but I have no doubt I'll drift back in time.
For Savannah, finally.
For maybe half a minute after she wakes up, River Song stares at the ceiling and attempts to sort out her life into categories that make sense. Then, as always, she picks up the diary with the blue cover, opens to a new page, the pen from yesterday falling out. This time she writes only two words, wedding today.
The Doctor is downstairs, pacing, pausing now and then to adjust his tie. She pats herself on the back for remembering to lock the TARDIS safety brake the previous night. Oh, this is so happening, she thinks. Finally, I am going to make this work.
"Hello, sweetie," she coos. "Ready for the big day?"
The Doctor stops pacing, turns to look at her, and opens and closes his mouth a few times, rather like a fish. "I- look, River, I- there's something you really ought to know-"
"Yes?" River finally interrupted, taking pity on her stammering fiance.
The Doctor stares. He works his jaw soundlessly. Nothing comes out.
"I need to fix my hair," River announces after a moment, not unkindly. "And I could murder for some breakfast."
"And if any know of a reason why these two should not be wedded, speak now or forever hold your peace. Anyone? No? Very well then-"
"STOP THE WEDDING!" someone yells.
River turns around, very put out. There's a thin, rangy man with a villainous mustache bursting in through the doors, in a very stagey, overdone sort of way. She sighs. "Doctor," she says tiredly, "it's your ex."
"Oh, this is going to be good," someone in the pews mutters. The Doctor makes a small gulping sound, and slowly edges behind the priest. The priest sighs, gently pushes the groom away, and removes himself to the sideboard, where he helps himself to the Communion wine.
"You can't marry her," the Master shrieks, "because you're already married, you bigamist! To me!"
"Er," the Doctor says quietly, "now look, we've gone over this. We got a divorce, remember? I got the kid and you got the time machine. It's been over for nine hundred and eighty years, four months, and three days."
"You faithless bitch," the Master screams, striding up to the altar and slapping the Doctor. For a moment, shocked silence pervades the church.
Then there's the unmistakable sound of high-heeled boots clicking on the polished floor, and all eyes turn to a buxom leggy blonde walking up the aisle. She tosses her masses of eighties hair impatiently. River feels her breath catch and her eyes widen. "Ah," the Doctor mutters. "River, this would be- me. Yes. This is, um, future-me. Last-me." He pauses. "Girl-me."
"Darling, why didn't you tell me you were going to be sexy?" River chides.
The other Doctor glides to a halt in front of the three mesmerized time travelers. The Master pouts. The groom looks down and shifts his feet awkwardly. River stares. The time lady stares back.
"You." She adresses the Master. He coughs guiltily. She taps a long and painted nail on her folded arms. "I think I'm over you. To be brutally frank, the sex was never that good in the first place, and the enslavement of millions? Bo-ring." The Master gasps, eyes pleading, but she dismisses him with another toss of ringlets.
"Moving on. Me." She confronts the groom. He sighs exasperatedly. She stares him down. "There's something you need to tell your lovely fiance, right now." She taps her nails again. "I'm waiting..."
The Doctor of the male persuasion shrugs, and turns to River. "I really tried to tell you earlier, but um..."
"What," River snaps, although she can't entirely stop the amusement creeping into her voice.
"This me. It's not exactly... into women. Er."
River throws her hands up into the air. "Great. Just great. This is- lovely news to receive on my wedding day. Wonderful."
"Moving on to gorgeous mystery girl," the female Doctor interrupted, "I think we ought to make love. Right now."
River opens her mouth. Closes it. Looks the other woman up and down. "Hmm," she says. "How are you on commitment?"
"Oh, terrible," the Doctor whispers, moving closer. "Just terrible."
"Right," River murmurs, appreciating the view. "You'll just have to learn, I suppose. Professor Irving? Sorry, Reverend?"
"My dear?" The priest reappears, rather more horizontal and somewhat worse for wear. "Are my services required?"
"They certainly are," River says, drawing the blonde woman in for a passionate kiss.
"Very well, I now pronounce you officially married, and if you'll excuse me I need to go off and get so sodding drunk I'll forget I ever saw you liplocked with my sister."
Sister? River thinks briefly, but only says, "Go on then," and manages to pull away from her new wife long enough to suggest, "Perhaps we could continue in your TARDIS?"
"Let's honeymoon on Venus," the blonde agrees.
The younger Doctor watches them leave, then turns to the Master and shrugs. "Well, how about it then?"
He regrets it immediately, as a mad smile spreads over the Master's face, but by then it's too late to back out, as the Master is back almost instantaneously with the priest protesting in tow. "I am not doing this again," he claims. He does, anyway. The wedding reception proceeds as planned, and Amy and Rory seem far too amused by the whole fiasco.
"How did you come to be a woman anyway?" River asks as they sip margaritas on the edge of the Adonis Sea. Overhead, blue clouds swirl in a pink sky. A waiter brings the searingly expensive bill, which River signs in someone else's name.
"I'll explain later," the Doctor tells her.