Work Text:
It was months later, as the Doctor had taken Bill out to eat for her birthday, on a planet that had no name and was far out in the future, that they broached a certain subject again. A delicate one.
They were sat across from one another at a tiny table, coats draped over the back of their chairs. He was wearing a dark jumper, the one with the holes, and she was wearing a colorful top. Someone had even asked if she was his granddaughter and she’d corrected them. “He doesn’t look old and decrepit! He isn’t even that old! Excuse you,” she’d all but yelled at the man, although there was a warmth there in her chest just to get the words out. Nothing to see here. Move along! Bloody rude idiots.
“Granddad, my arse,” she mumbled, eyes eventually finding a stunned Doctor.
My, my, he’d thought. How much she’d changed since they had first met. It made his hearts twist inside of him. This was a pure thing, their friendship. It was wholesome and so, so good.
“How was your date yesterday?” he eventually asked, an eyebrow arching gently.
She’d gone out with a “friend,” she’d said, but he knew better. Out to eat, for some Chinese food and a bit of banter, and hung out at her place afterward. Her name was Cheryl.
Her nose scrunched up. “Not fair. I’m sure you can already tell. I’ve been mardy all day.” She was embarrassed even talking about it, but he was curious so she decided to spill it. “She was horrible, Doctor. She kept talking about her political views, and frankly, it scared me. I decided to go home early.”
He laughed softly whilst stabbing at a prawn with his fork. Well, it looked like a prawn anyway.
“In any case,” she said softly, “thank you for the best birthday I’ve had in years. No one’s ever really taken me out for my birthday. And on another planet, no less! I’m a lucky girl.”
His eyes were twinkling with mirth and joy. He teased her, “You’re just not meeting the right sort of women, I’d say. There’s plenty out there, you know. And you’re welcome for dinner. I thought you deserved it. That last essay you wrote was nothing short of incredible. Maybe you should publish it one day.”
She let her eyes fall to her dinner, half-finished and wonderfully delicious. “They’re not Heather, though. I keep thinking about her,” she admitted quietly. “And thanks, about my essay. I worked bloody hard on it for you.”
His eyebrows rose at that. Heather. She’d never let that woman go. No matter how much time had passed, her mind would always circle back to her. It was an inevitable thing. Not that he blamed her, mind. He felt the same way about a few other special beings in this universe. It only meant that it was real for her. Real and honest and true. That was how love worked.
“I’m sorry,” said the Doctor, compassion there in his voice. “Maybe we’ll find her again.”
They talked for a while, sharing their meals and having drinks together. He was a bit tipsy, despite how he professed to have such superior Time Lord biology and all that rot.
“How did that dinner go, then?” she eventually asked. It took him a moment to realize what she’d meant. River. Their last night on Darillium. Months had passed since Bill had first asked about the woman, his mysterious wife, and he’d told her little bits and pieces since then. Off-handed comments or curious things River would have said. Little stories. Everything and anything. Because, friends knew things about each other, right? No more hiding.
He glimpsed her way, though, more than a bit curious. Where had that even come from? He chuckled, deciding to be honest. “Our last night on Darillium, you mean?”
She nodded her head, watching him now with wide, quizzical eyes.
He smirked, unable to help himself. “We didn’t even make it to dessert.”
She pulled a face. “Ugh, yuck. Doctor, I didn’t need to know that…”
He laughed now, not even needing to glance her way to know there was warmth on her cheeks. God forbid her professor have a love life of any sort. But… “You asked,” he teasingly said, “and I answered.”
She laughed too, unable to quell the sound in her throat. “Yeah, but… could’ve done without that image, Doctor, thanks. Doctor TMI, that’s your new name. Thank you very much.”
He sipped at his drink, teasing, “It’s your birthday. I’d say you’re old enough to hear about romantic stories and things like that.” The way he rolled his R’s made her laugh. He did so love teasing her.
“But to answer your question,” continued the Doctor, “it went well. I cried. I wore my best suit for her. She looked as gorgeous as ever. You should have seen her face when I handed her a gift. Inside was her very own sonic screwdriver. Or when I said how long a night on Darillium was. That the nighttime cycle was twenty-four years long. It was… remarkable.”
She smiled a little bit at that, trying to imagine him that way. Softer, more vulnerable. She’d seen glimpses of it with the way he interacted with Missy. They were old friends, so it only made sense. But he was gentle with her too, when the mood called for it. That’s what friends were for. He picked her up when she needed it, both literally or emotionally. There was that one time she’d sprained her ankle running away from Space Ninjas on Cugoawei, terrifying little planet that it was.
“Do you think Nardole will be angry that you took me out for dinner on my birthday?” she asked with a frown. “He might, no… He’ll definitely be angry that you left Earth.”
The Doctor merely shrugged a shoulder. “He won’t know. It’ll be our little secret, alright?”
All she could do was smile at that, giving him a wink after. “Right. Our little secret. Just fine with me.”