There's so much time but not enough for you and me to know
Brian smiled happily as he moved around the room with a small watering can in one hand and a cloth in the other. He wandered over to the next pot, pouring in the perfect amount of water to keep the plant alive and then ran the cloth over the surface it sat on, wiping away the dust that had formed since he'd last been here. He continued around the room, perfectly to routine, lifting his cloth to wipe the glass of a photo frame before shuffling along to his left and tipping the can up slightly to water the last of the indoor plant life.
He reached a hand into his pocket, fishing for his keys and leaving half the cloth pocking out from his jeans, then unlocked the door to the garden. Stepping outside Brian re-pocketed his keys, pushing the cloth further into his pocket as he did so, and moved over to the tap on the outside wall. Bending over slightly he filled the watering can once more, turned off the stream of water and straightened up ready to water the garden.
Just as he reached the first of the plants, however, he heard a very unusual sound coming from his son's house. He frowned, turning back to face the open door and listened. It rang out again; the doorbell, someone was ringing the doorbell.
Slowly Brain lowered the watering can onto the ground next to him and stepped back into the house. The bell rang for a third time and Brian moved, more quickly now, to the front door. He pulled it open, and found a woman with her back to him as she looked across the street to his car and down to check something on her wrist, murmuring words Brian couldn't quite hear under her breath.
"Can I help you?"
The woman turned suddenly at his voice and opened her mouth to speak, but faulted and closed it again.
"Sorry it took me so long to come to the door, I wasn't expecting visitors," Brian told her, "I'm only here to water the plants."
To his surprise the woman choked up at his words, like she was trying to hold back a sob. She swallowed it back however and took a calming breath while Brian watched her, then offered him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Hello, Brian." There was something odd about the wistful way she was looking at him, but before he could think about it too much she was speaking again. "I'm a friend of the Doctor's. I- I was hoping I could come in."
Brian stepped aside letting the woman step inside. It wasn't until he shut the front door behind him did his behaviour strike him as a bit odd, and he frowned to himself before turning back to the woman. She had sat herself down on the lounge and seemed to be perfectly comfortable in her surroundings. Wordlessly Brian moved into the kitchen and filled the kettle, setting about making tea. He returned to the lounge, two steaming mugs in his hands, and offered one to the woman before sitting next to her.
They sat in silence, each with their mug of black tea, until finally she spoke again. "How long has it been? Since Amy and Rory left with the Doctor."
"Have you heard from them at all?"
"Oh, the occasional postcard or two, at first, but nothing in quite a while. Do you know them?"
He watched her, saw a sadness flicker through her eyes but she smiled, a true smile this time, and nodded, "Yes, you could say that." she said, "I'm their daughter."
Brian took this mostly in his stride, sipping his tea before saying. "I thought Amy couldn't have children."
The woman nodded again, "You're quite right. I suppose they didn't tell you a lot about what happened, Amy's never really been one to talk about her emotions or feelings. Four psychiatrists telling her she'd imagined the Doctor probably didn't help her, growing up." She took another sip of her tea, emptying the mug and held it by her knees loosely. "It's all a bit complicated really. But I was born well before they started seeing specialists, and after I was born, Amy was..." she sighed, "There's so much to explain."
"I believe you," Brian murmured, reaching out and resting a hand on her knee, "I don't know what it is, but there is something about you. You look like them, I think. Yes, I believe you..."
The woman laughed, "Melody." she said, "Melody Pond, though mostly I go by River Song."
"Melody... After that girl they went to school with?"
River laughed, "Not exactly, but like I said; it's a long and complicated story."
Brian smiled, letting go of River's knee and stood, taking her empty mug from her and moving back to the kitchen, "Maybe they can explain it to me." He told her, placing one of the mugs in the sink and turning on the tap to wash them.
River followed him into the kitchen and lent back against the bench, "I'm sorry Brian, but they can't." She told him sadly, "They... They've been displaced in time."
Brian dropped the mug he was holding. "They're what?" he asked, his voice suddenly weak, barley a whisper, his skin shockingly pale.
And so River began to do what the Doctor couldn't face doing. She told Brian about Manhattan and the Angels and what had happened to her parents. "They're living a full long life Brian. They're together and happy, but they can't come back."
Brian was quiet for a long time, staring off into nothing as River squeezed his shoulder, the rush of water from the tap droning on, just white noise in the background.
Silently River moved to turn it off, washing and drying the two mugs herself and putting them back in their place in the cupboard before turning back to her grandfather in concern. He'd barley moved in the entire time it had taken her to explain.
Suddenly, he straightened up and turned to her, "Come on," he said, "You can help me water the garden."
River didn't know what else to do, so she nodded and smiled hesitantly back at him, following him out into the garden to help her grandfather water the plants. And she continued to do so, every week without fail, River Song met Brian Williams in her parent's back garden and watered the plants, all the while swapping stories and reminiscing with her grandfather.