When Kissing River Song.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Doctor, River Song, kissing or any combination of the above.

Author's Note: Well there isn't really a heck of a lot to say about this one but I've got so used to doing a note I kind of have to now. This popped into my head whilst listening to Damien Rice's Cannonball at work. I may put the lyrics in actually as they fit rather well even though the fic isn't directly related. Yes, I shall. Well now that's sorted that's about all there is to say! Enjoy…

"There's still a little bit of your taste in my mouth
There's still a little bit of you laced with my doubt
It's still a little hard to say what's going on

There's still a little bit of your ghost your witness
There's still a little bit of your face i haven't kissed
You step a little closer each day
That I can´t say what´s going on

Stones taught me to fly
Love, it taught me to lie
Life, it taught me to die
So it's not hard to fall
When you float like a cannonball

There's still a little bit of your song in my ear
There's still a little bit of your words i long to hear
You step a little closer to me
So close that I can´t see what´s going on"

The most important thing to remember when kissing River Song, the Doctor always thought, was to ration your kisses. Not the amount but the way in which you kissed her- it's tempting to kiss her everywhere and all at once but you can't- you have to make each type of kiss last and always have somewhere you haven't kissed her yet so there's something to look forward to. Because once you'd kissed her everywhere there was nowhere left to go and it meant that the next time you kissed her you'd have to kiss her in less ways and he hated that thought more than anything. So he rationed them, saved them, stored them for a rainy day and tried to put off the inevitable. Because when you're in love with someone who's going backwards through time to you it's inevitable that your last kiss is not the kiss you want it to be, not the kind of kiss when you can kiss them in every way you ever knew but rather it's like the first kiss all over again. Only sadder- much sadder.

The first time, the very first time, he'd kissed her it had been on the forehead. It had been while they'd been in America and after she'd jumped into the swimming pool and they flew off and he had been relieved to see her and so he'd hugged her and kissed her on the forehead. Nothing particularly ground-breaking about that action- it was the same as he'd done with many of his friends before but, for some reason, when he did it to River it felt very different and very new and very much like A First Kiss with capital letters. His lips tingled in a way they had never done before and when he caught her eye she had the strangest expression flitting across her face. Somewhere between complete joy and complete sadness- the look of a woman who knew far too much and could barely cope with it any more.

After that he should have been prepared for the next kiss. He should have known there would be kissing but somehow, despite his large intellect, he remained very much oblivious to where their relationship was headed. So when she kissed him in stormcage it still somehow caught him off guard and resulted in much flailing of the arms and general lack of any kind of coherent thought for a long time afterwards. That was all it had taken. That one moment to make him realise he had a whole lifetime of thinking of ways to kiss River, to surprise her like she always managed to surprise him. He knew now that he could kiss her like that, kiss her on the lips with the kind of passion she'd just shown and he knew he would, often and for as long as possible but he also knew he had to think of new ways to kiss her.

When they were lying together beneath the stars he told her to close her eyes and make a wish. She looked at him like he was crazy, which was an expression he was quickly getting used to seeing on her, but she smiled and did it none the less. As she closed her eyes he leaned over and gently kissed her closed eyelids, one after the other. She gasped slightly at the new sensation and as she opened her eyes once more he saw the love within them deepen even further before she pulled him down to press his lips to hers.

The next time he was prepared for what kind of kiss he would need to discover with her. He knew where this relationship was heading, what kind of thing they had and although he was prepared for it he still didn't know quite how to deal with it. He was getting good at kissing now. On lips kissing he was very good at now and he still managed to surprise her with a few cute forehead and eyelid kisses but this would require something much more. As she pulled him forcefully down onto the bed he gulped slightly as she looked into his eyes. She was expecting something from him, something he'd obviously given her many times before as his older self but not yet. Something… sexy. She chuckled lightly at the look of concentration on his face as he rolled on top of her and began to kiss his way down her neck but her laughter soon turned into light moans as he tested nipping and licking the side of her neck playfully. New, interesting and very sexy- he thought to himself.

Those kisses lasted a long time. He liked those kisses a lot. The passion, the desire she had for him was fantastic and he felt it reflected equally in himself but he knew that it needed something more. Something that showed dedication and the love that he felt bubbling deep within at all times now. He loved her, this wonderful woman, and he wanted to show her but he was unsure what kiss would reflect that. Then one night he took her dancing. He held his hand out to her and as she took it he kissed her hand lightly, peppering kissed all the way up her arm until his face became level with hers and he looked deep into her eyes and he knew that she knew. He couldn't hide this love he had for her and he would never want to.

There were years after that moment. Years of new kisses that blurred into one another. Kissing ears, kissing knees better, kissing hair, kissing fingers with rings on, kissing up legs and kisses that tickled all the way down your spine. Every one delighted him almost as much as it petrified him that he was moving ever closer to that mid point. Then one day it came. One day he was sitting with her, arms wrapped all around each other as she cried out in pain. She clutched onto him as he bent down to kiss the jagged cut that littered her beautiful stomach. He kissed her to heal her, to help her, and as he did he realised it was the only place she'd ever squirmed away from him kissing her. She hated her stomach being touched, it was one of her only insecurities. And now he had. There was no inch of her he hadn't kissed in every way possible. It delighted him and it saddened him because now he knew she would begin to slip away and that each time he kissed her in a certain way it would become her first and his last.

But he still kissed her. He kissed her under the moon, in distant galaxies and next to exploding suns. He kissed her hips, her nose, her fingers like he had done before but now each one had a new meaning- each kiss was goodbye to a part of their relationship he would never see, never feel, again. Then one day, one all-too-soon day, he kissed her on the lips and she froze. She didn't know where to put her arms or how to react to this kiss. When they pulled apart she had this excited expression on her face, as if a whole new world had just opened up to her. And, he supposed, for her it had. After that there were no more kisses. Not for the longest time. Not until he found her at that orphanage. On that wonderful day when he'd rescued her from the monsters who'd stolen her as a baby. She didn't know him, not really, but she ran to him on that day and threw her arms around him and he kissed her on the forehead. She looked up at him, confused by his expression that he couldn't see but he knew was somewhere between complete joy and complete sadness. He grabbed her hand and whisked her home to her parents, saying goodbye for the nearly last time.

As he closed the doors to the TARDIS behind him and blocked out the joyous laughter of the newly reunited Ponds he let a tear fall. Just the one. Slowly, quietly and unnoticed by anyone it fell. Because he knew what he had left now. The cheat, the get out clause. The journey that they should never have had because it was so very outside their timelines and so very against the rules. But he didn't care because he wouldn't let that be his last kiss, he couldn't. So he knew where he had to go. To Verilian and the singing towers. He set his course for where he knew she would be and he picked her up and whisked her away. For one last night. And on that night he forgot all the rules about kissing River Song. He kissed her everywhere and all at once. He kissed her until he thought he would pass out from lack of oxygen. He kissed her in all the ways he knew how and some more he made up on the spot. He kissed her though his tears and through his laughter. He kissed her one more time. He kissed her goodbye.

Oh dear it's 3am and writing that's just made me cry! Review it & tell me what you thought? Please?