So this just happened.
Penny in the air. Penny drops.
When one’s in love with an ageless god who insists on the face of a twelve-year-old, one does one’s best to hide the damage.
Never let him see the damage. And never ever let him see you age. He doesn’t like endings.
“Only River Song gets to call me that.”
From [x] this post.
River and the Doctor spend some time in the 1930’s:
“You’re back”. She blinked sleepily up at him.
He nodded, staring at her intently.
“What is it?” she asked, softly.
He smiled, his eyes filled with affection.”You just look lovely, rested and relaxed. I rarely see you like this.”
She felt a swell of love in her chest and spoke teasingly, “Are you getting soppy in your old age, my love?”
He looked askance. “Me? Never!” Bounding over to the bed, he landed half on top of her in a tangle of arms and legs.
River tried to wriggle from beneath him.”Mmmmphhhh, well I was relaxed you big oaf!”
His lips found hers and he and rolled her over on top of him, stroking his hands down the curve of her spine.
Pulling back he spoke again. “Plenty of time for that, wife! Now, let’s see if I can’t get you wide awake.”
He waggled his nearly invisible eyebrows, and she laughed, bending her head to kiss him again; fully intent on taking advantage of the brief period of calm, before they would undoubtedly have to start running again.
Never let him see the damage.
“Professor River Song. Archaeologist.”