Sorry for the wait... and the length of this chapter. BUT! The Doctor finally shows up. You're welcome :)
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She drops Anthony off on the sidewalk outside Amy and Rory's house, a week after their disappearance. Brian is inside, still waiting. Anthony has an old, yellowing letter in his coat pocket for him. On the front of the envelope 'Dad' is written in Rory's familiar handwriting. Standing in front of the blue door Anthony runs one finger against the familiar color before he rings the doorbell. River watches until Brian's tired face appears in the doorway, waiting until he opens the door for Anthony to slip inside. She steps back into an alley, pulling her sleeve back to reveal the vortex manipulator on her wrist.
She materializes in a bathroom stall. A woman pushes open the unlocked door, her face buried in her smartphone. The door bumps up against the small suitcase at River's feet, and the woman looks up, startled.
"Oh! Geeze, sorry!" she says, quickly backing out. River locks the door behind her and waits a moment before flushing the toilet and stepping out herself.
Heathrow airport is busy and crowded even so early in the morning, and it takes her forever to catch a cab. Standing on the curb, her hood pulled up against the rain as yet another full cab speeds by her, River regrets for a moment not just materializing near Clara's house as usual. Chances are the Doctor won't check her story anyway.
By the time she arrives in front of the brown house where Clara lives, it's late afternoon, as planned, on Wednesday. She rings the doorbell, a couple of times, again, for appearance sake. She knows Clara won't be there. River walks around to the back yard, makes a small show of peering helplessly through the windows. In her head she calculates how long it would actually take her to break into the house; about eight seconds.
Eventually she settles in the backyard to wait, pulling an incredibly boring political textbook out of her backpack. The Doctor hates politics. She's not terribly fond of them either, but she pretends to read, flipping the pages at regular intervals.
About half an hour later she feels the Tardis coming even before she hears the squeal of the brakes. She is bright and golden and blue and oh so familiar against her mind.
She closes the door on the cold emptiness of her first night in prison. "The dress is a little daring," she says, like this happens all the time, and he is smiling at her like it does.
"Yep, so I went for this instead."
"Are we going out?"
"Your parents are asleep. How's Stormcage?" She can still feel it, cold, clammy against her skin like it wants to crawl in and settle in the marrow of her bones. There's something about the way he looks at her though, out of the corner of his eye, braced for bitterness and blame, so she shrugs, lightly like the cold can't touch her.
"I'm on the first night of 12,000 consecutive life sentences, kind of early to say," like it doesn't matter, and maybe tonight it doesn't. He'd come for her after all. "Where are we going?"
He plays along, launching immediately into a vivid description of their destination. It's only later, when the night is lit up like daylight (only magic) when he finally stops talking and he holds her and she can feel how much it really does matter in the strength of his arms. She borrows into him, wrapping herself up in his warmth and feels the Stormcage frost finally melt from her skin.
"Happy first honeymoon," he says.
As the Tardis materializes she tries to fix a shocked sort of look on her face, but has a feeling she doesn't quite manage it.
She makes a show of approaching cautiously, and takes a startled step back when the door swings open and Clara steps out. River remembers the shoes she's wearing from Trenzalore.
"Clara?!" she gasps, "What the- what is that thing?"
"Mo?!" Clara says, staring at her in shock, "Oh my gosh. Okay. Hang on a second," She disappears back into the Tardis, leaving the door half-open behind her, "Doctor!" River hears her yell, "You missed the landing again! It's Thursday!"
"Impossible!" His voice drifts out through the open door and River is glad Clara is looking away as she has to take a moment to collect herself. She opens her eyes just as Clara appears in the doorway of the Tardis again,
"Okay," she says, holding up her hands like she's trying to calm a frightened animal, "so I know this is really weird, but I can explain! Just hang on a second and-"
"It's Wednesday," River says, faintly, cutting her off.
"What?"
"It's Wednesday, not Thursday, I came early. Um…surprise," she says, weakly.
"Ha!" Says the Doctor, flinging the door open and stepping out of the Tardis, turning to face Clara, "You see Clara? It is Wednesday!" he does his familiar twirl, and suddenly there he is, with his familiar face and his hair flopping over his forehead. It's all wrong though.
"Get out. As you're leaving, and you're leaving now…"
There is nothing in his eyes. No recognition, no admiration, not even a flicker of annoyance or curiosity. Nothing.
"Hello there, and who are you?"
"Who are you?"
And just like that, she's angry. She grabs onto the emotion as it rises, channeling it around the edges of her mask to set like concrete.
"I'm Mo," she says, and the chill in her voice isn't an act, "who the hell are you?" she lets her eyes flicker over him, head to toe, lets the anger slip out and over her features in derision.
"I'm the Doctor," he answers, brow furrowing in the face of her anger, "this is my friend Clara." He looks around, "This is Clara's backyard."
"No," she snaps, "that is my friend Clara."
She cranes her neck to look around him at Clara, "Oh no, Clara, please tell me this isn't the weird stalker bathrobe man."
"Well…yeah," Clara says, looking down at the toes of her pretty brown shoes.
"What?!" The Doctor squawks, "This is not a bathrobe! This is a very nice coat," he grips the edges in his hands, flapping ridiculously.
She crosses her arms, "Ah I see. It's his fault, isn't it? The thing that happened, whatever it is," she steps closer, eying him up and down with raised eyebrows, then looking back at Clara, "Really? This guy? I thought he'd at least be a bit attractive."
"Oi!"
"You didn't say I was hot?!"
She points at the Tardis, "And what is that?"
"It's a telephone box," says the Doctor, "Can't you read?"
"Shut up," she tells him, glaring, "I'm talking to Clara right now."
Clara sights, rubbing her forehead, "Let's go inside and have tea, ok? Then we can talk. With tea. We can drink tea, and talk."
Over tea River listens to Clara explain about the Doctor and the Tardis, about time travel and adventures, and finally about Trenzalore. She mostly tunes her out, her attention unwillingly fixed on the Doctor twitching and fidgeting in his seat.
When she gets to the bit about Trenzalore, the Doctor gets up and starts to wander around the house, fiddling with things and muttering to himself.
"Right," says River, when Clara's finished and the Doctor's returned to the living room. She stands up, walks over to the Doctor and glares up at him, noting idly that he seems taller now. The chin looks even larger from her new vantage point. "What have you done to Clara?" she demands.
"What - She just told you!"
"Do you really think I'd believe any of that? Time Travel? Please. It's some kind of drug, isn't it? You've been drugging her, haven't you?" she pokes his chest, hard, and he rocks back on his heels, gaping at her.
"Mo!" says Clara from behind her, "he hasn't been drugging me! You saw it, in the backyard, that blue box, it just appeared, right? That's it, that's his time machine."
"It's some kind of trick," she says, not looking away from the Doctor, "I'm going to call the police, the real police, on my mobile, how do you like that, eh?"
"Don't care really," he snaps back.
"Right, because you'll just fly away in your wooden box, right? Ha! I'd like to see you try. Go on!"
"That's right, that's exactly what I'll do!" he says angrily, "Right now! I'll see you next week, Clara," and then he stomps out, slamming the door childishly as he lets himself out. She watches him through the window, long angry strides carrying him across the yard to the Tardis. The doors close behind him, and River pictures him in her head, circling the console in a familiar pattern as he prepares to set off. She knows the exact moment that the Tardis should disappear, but it doesn't. She frowns, puzzled.
Behind her Clara sighs, "I know it sounds crazy, Mo."
"No, Clara, it actually is crazy," River says, not looking away from the Tardis in the backyard.
Clara sighs and comes to stand beside her, looking out the window herself. "Oh, he's still here, I wonder what the hold-up is."
"Maybe it's because his time machine is a wooden box."
Clara rolls her eyes, "That's just what it looks like, Mo."
"If it looks like a duck and it quacks like a duck…."
"What happened to "Things aren't always as they appear, Clara'?"
"If a strange man tells you he wants to take you time traveling in his box, I think it's pretty safe to assume he's mad."
Clara smiles wryly, "Well, I wouldn't say he's not mad."
River follows Clara into the backyard, complaining and fiddling with her mobile as she continues threatening to phone the police. The Doctor is circling the exterior of the Tardis, knocking on the walls and pressing his ear to the wood in apparently random places, all while muttering to himself under his breath.
She catches Clara's eye, raises her eyebrows pointedly and swirls her finger around her ear, mouthing 'nutters'.
Clara rolls her eyes and follows the Doctor around to the far side of the Tardis, leaving River three short steps away from the double doors, hanging open just a crack.
She takes the three steps, stops and traces her finger down the edge of the open door. She can hear Clara and the Doctor still on the far side of the Tardis, so she lets her eyes drift closed and pushes against the weight of the bio-dampeners until the golden warmth of the Tardis uncurls against her mind like fingers reaching out to brush back against her own. The bio-dampeners make it tricky, like trying to have a conversation underwater, but there is a muted and happy flood of recognition that threatens to leave her in tears. With a smile she opens her eyes, wraps her fingers around the edge of the door and pulls it open just enough to slip inside.