Til Death Do Us Part [for songofsong]
It had been something he'd been thinking of for many many years now. Something he'd been thinking of since a drink in a pub with an old friend. That was years ago now, and so much had grown and changed since then. Lives created and ended, new beginnings and amazing miracles. There was something he'd been looking for for years; he hadn't found it by the time she'd died, and when she came back again, after some months, his search had resumed.
Until one day, he found it. An impossible thing. And if he could find that, in all the universe, surely he could do it?
The Doctor and River had considered themselves married since a time when he was a robot and the universe was a different one. That was aside from all the times he'd pointed out their wedding wasn't actually real, much to her chagrin. It was, to say the least, not entirely the wedding he imagined she'd have ever wanted, nor was it one he entered into in quite the way she might have hoped either. It was a fact that stung away at the back of his head, and the more he knew her, the more he loved her, the more it bothered him.
And then there'd been their son, a union if ever there was one, a beautiful boy that would grow (they knew) into a wonderful man. The Doctor had with River, something he could never have imagined, nor ever have hoped for. But he had it, and it was time to make another leap.
Often, the Doctor was the sort of man to leap head first into an adventure. He didn't plan, he just did. Planning was boring. But here, this, this required planning, and so he had, meticulously. It had to be perfect. River deserved perfect.
So there it was, and so it came.
The day when the Doctor would get married.
Until one day, he found it. An impossible thing. And if he could find that, in all the universe, surely he could do it?
The Doctor and River had considered themselves married since a time when he was a robot and the universe was a different one. That was aside from all the times he'd pointed out their wedding wasn't actually real, much to her chagrin. It was, to say the least, not entirely the wedding he imagined she'd have ever wanted, nor was it one he entered into in quite the way she might have hoped either. It was a fact that stung away at the back of his head, and the more he knew her, the more he loved her, the more it bothered him.
And then there'd been their son, a union if ever there was one, a beautiful boy that would grow (they knew) into a wonderful man. The Doctor had with River, something he could never have imagined, nor ever have hoped for. But he had it, and it was time to make another leap.
Often, the Doctor was the sort of man to leap head first into an adventure. He didn't plan, he just did. Planning was boring. But here, this, this required planning, and so he had, meticulously. It had to be perfect. River deserved perfect.
So there it was, and so it came.
The day when the Doctor would get married.