When did the Doctor first meet River after he left her to start her new life in the 51st Century?
She didn’t notice him at first, which was odd considering her history.
He was sitting at the back of the lecture hall as the professor droned on about stelae in pre-Columbian architecture. He was doodling on a piece of paper, glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes every so often.
He wasn’t dressed as she had come to expect, maybe that’s why she hadn’t noticed him, there was no tweed, instead he was wearing a long green coat, and a cowboy hat. It didn’t stand out as much as it otherwise would have, since the college was doing a historical festival this week. And no one loved a historical theme as much as archeology students.
The professor drew his lecture to a close and assigned reading materials. The students logged in the assignments and started the general rush to gather their stuff and head off to the next class.
River waved off some friends, who invited her out for a drink, and waited as the hall emptied.
He stayed in his seat. Deliberately non-threatening.
She stayed at the bottom of the audience well, clutching her books and her diary to her chest.
“So,” he said.
“So,” she replied.
She hadn’t seen him since she’d started her schooling. She was normally a fast study, but she’d kept herself to the normal curriculum pace, knowing she needed the society of other students as much as the knowledge. In all but her studies of the Doctor.
She already had enough information on him for a dissertation. And the one thing she’d learned, was that there was a lot the Church hadn’t taught her. And one of those things, was that River Song, was very important to the Doctor.
She felt herself flushing. A completely unfamiliar sensation.
He simply sat there and looked at her, as if he couldn’t get enough.
She cleared her throat. “So,” she said again.
He smiled. It lit up his whole face.
“Are you enjoying school, Miss Song?” he asked politely, his eyes twinkling, so happy she could feel it even from here.
She cocked her head at him and studied him, he still hadn’t moved. She realized it was odd to see him sitting so still. Every image she’d ever seen of him, he’d been in motion.
She started slowly climbing the tiers toward him.
She stopped beside his chair. He tensed, but didn’t move.
She looked him up and down. Decided she didn’t like the hat. Although the bow tie was cute on him.
His finger was tap tap tapping nervously on the small square of desk attached to the chair. His knee started jumping. His face was bland. His adams apple bobbed.
She leaned down right in his face, “You don’t have to be so careful,“ she said quietly. “I’m not going to kill you.” She kissed him softly on the tip of his nose.
“Right!” He jumped up, all of a sudden, all that pent up energy exploding out of him. Knocking his chair over, and arms suddenly windmilling around in excitement. He had a little lipstick smear on the end of his nose.
He was blushing, half excited, half embarrassed, (partially because she was righting his chair) and suddenly looking like he had a hundred exciting things to do and couldn’t decide on which one to do first.
The explosion of motion had jarred her at first, she’d had to stop herself grabbing her gun (which she still wore everywhere, despite the schools detectors). But, strangely, it hadn’t been in response to him. She knew, absolutely knew, that he was harmless. At least to her.
It had simply been her trained warrior’s instincts to motion. She stared up at him, surprised. He stared down at her, his eyes so clear, and deep, and so thoroughly delighted to see her, and, somehow, more welcoming than any other eyes she’d ever seen.
She felt a lump form in her throat. Her eyes glittered with moisture but she shoved it back. He just looked so happy to see her.
He stood up straight and stuck his thumbs behind his lapels. He cleared his throat. “River Song, would you go on a date with me?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “A date?”
He smiled. “Anywhere you want to go.”
“There is a curfew,” she pointed out, her eyes starting to shine.
“Oh, I doubt that will be a problem,” he waved it away.
“And I can’t miss my classes,” she said, sternly.
He grinned harder and leaned down in her face. “What’s school for, if not to play hooky?”
Her hearts started to bubble in her chest. She found herself twisting her toe against the floor, her hips wiggling, a flirtatious smile blooming up out of her like the sun.
All up and down history there were stories of the Doctor and River Song, stories of romance, and adventure, of daring dos, and daring don’ts.
He grinned and tapped her lightly on the nose.
She couldn’t wait to get started.