A/N: This is a fic exploring the relationship between the different versions of the Doctor and River Song. Iv'e decided to start out with the midpoint and

show their different relationships during times of procreation, violence, and experience. Enjoy.

Prelude

It's always been easier for him to imagine a world where there were monsters and angels, black and white, good and bad. That's why the Doctor was ignoring River and her calls, well, her booty calls actually. He had to be careful. He had to rationalize the situation. The Doctor could get any River, maybe young and immensely stupid River. Quite honestly he thought she was an idiot. It must have been how she felt about him tripping and cursing in her presence years ago. She always used to keep secrets from him and piss him off and deal with his crude indifference. Indifference is the worst, if he had hated her that would've been like loving her. The Doctor and the Master, they were haters. They were lovers. The second stage of love or lust for the Doctor was when he had saved the universe properly that time, galloping through time and leaving hints, and loving and leaving (so he thought) Amelia. Until then he thought himself sexually aroused by intellect and power. Long nights with Bess and Saxon, as the humans called him in their ignorant reverie. River Song was his play thing, an untrustworthy and clever woman. Some called her a bitch. The Doctor, he liked to call her a noble woman.

He would come across her from time to time while saving a race from galactic genocide and engage in a sort of cerebral intercourse with River Song. It was brilliant. Meanwhile, all the women in the house fawned over him, but River teased him. She teased him with her secrets and her tertiary entendres. He liked to think of her body parts as a puzzle. That way he could form a connection between his attraction between her mind and body. Something he had never felt before. It wasn't love back then. It was admiration and respect. It wasn't trust back then; it was integrity over a contract, a matter of intellectual property. Now it was a matter of life or death. That night, that day in nineteen sixty nine she became a part of the family. Of course he did not know. Amelia and Rory were in love, but he still left room for doubt in Amy's mind. The Doctor loved it. He was a wild man. He was the margin of error between a life in cozy Leadsworth and life of impromptu adventures and unrequited lust. River was scary in that way. He could've continued a life as an anomaly and wedge between healthy family and life, death, and non existence.

River Song was all three of those things.


When she kissed him next to her jail cell he had felt guilty. Oh no the Doctor thought. I'm falling in love and I've already killed her. I guess that's how it is for all of his companions, except River wasn't a companion. She made it all concrete. When she came at Demon's Run like the legend said, when she regenerated physically and as person in Berlin. Their marriage witnessed by the Ponds themselves. It all felt like fate. Fate was not something the Doctor could run away from. He needed some autonomy, one kiss where no one was watching, one conversation about the weather. That's why some several nights after his "death", when she appeared at his door he just stood there in anticipation. Where was her gun? Where was her holster? Had she forgotten them? Was Amy okay?

"Amy and Rory are fine", she sighed and took a seat on the leather jump seat. Her legs were folded in a pretzel shape.

He caught her licking her lips. She wore a ribbed tank top and those jodhpurs that made her bum look excellent. There was no immediate danger. He felt bold tonight. He felt heterosexual. He felt relaxed.

"You really look gorgeous, River, absolutely fabulous. Listen, may I sit next to you? I have this strong urge to touch your face to mine before we get threatened."

She laughed. He sat down next to her and put both of his hands on his face and kissed her on the lips, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"That was very nice sweetie", she sighed into his neck.

She leaned back and the Doctor saw that her eyes were a bit sparkly. She was his age he thought. Oh god we are peers. We know. We see everything the same way because, for once in our relationships, we are equal.

"I'm sorry dear. That must be surprising for you."

"You know love? I really would like to have sex with you right now. I want to have dinner and I want to talk with you as an adult."

Okay so they weren't completely equal. The Doctor sometimes felt as if he had been robbed of his eleventh sexuality. It was ridiculous how powerful an assumption was. He really did want to connect with River on that…sensual …level. He could see her and hear her now, but he wanted to feel her, taste her, and penetrate her. Tonight he had no excuse. He was to be bold about things and keep a firm grasp on his body. Like a normal sentient humanoid.

"Sounds lovely. I'll have Her put on some music i stole from Gustav and we'll cook together, yeah?"

The Doctor cant cook. It'll give them a wonderful excuse to make a mess. River asked him like a human being. She was not a human being. She was River. They were on a space ship. Why had he forgotten how to be an adult?

A/N: The next chapter will be a continuation of this one. Thanks for reading.