[Somewhere between the Big Bang and the Impossible Astronaut. River was there for an adventure while the Ponds where on some planet for part of their honeymoon.]

River Song was complicated.

She just was.

She infuriated him sometimes, with her spoilers and smirks and heels and that laugh when she so obviously knew something he didn't that made his chest do something funny and his abdomen clench. He didn't know who she was, didn't know what she'd done, and didn't know what to do with her. It frustrated him to no end when she'd say something witty from their future and he didn't know how to retort.

And she was confusing. What and who was she? He'd originally assumed human, just going by her outside appearance, but there were several races that looked human and weren't. She wasn't warm, for one thing. Well, she was, but when he grabbed her hand it certainly wasn't human warm. It was just a few degrees under. She wasn't bothered as much as humans when it came to extreme heat, could speak quite a few languages that humans couldn't pronounce (including Galifreyan, judging by how fluently she said his name that day), and could fly his TARDIS. The last one could be done by a human, he supposed, but still. It was complicated, and River Song seemed like she could do it with her eyes closed. What human could do that?

Then there was the 'who'. He'd eventually love her, he knew. He told her his name, for Pete's sake! That wasn't something he threw around, ever. It was far too powerful for that. He would love her, he would trust her. The trust was simple. He already did, he knew. She'd earned it. The love, though. . . that was a lot more complicated. Love was a force that made you do crazy things, made you feel unstoppable, feel amazing. But it was also a destructive force. It came like a tsunami, you barely knew it was coming until you were pulled under. Even if she wasn't human, all the humanoid species wouldn't last as long as he would. She'd be gone in a few years, and there was nothing he would be able to do about it.

She was amazing, though. She really was. She was clever, almost as clever as he was. She could think up escape plans, could do things he never would've thought of. She knew her way around a gun, and while he was loathe to admit it, he kind of liked that. She'd never kill an innocent person, and didn't like killing at all if it could be helped. The gun was just... he didn't know. Her fingers were just so deft with it, re-loading or powering it up or swinging it back into its holster. Maybe it wasn't so much the gun as it was her. He did like looking at her hands.

"Sweetie?" River's voice broke him away from his thoughts. "Are you alright?"

The Doctor blinked, then nodded quickly. "Yeah, sorry. Got a bit distracted."

She rolled her eyes fondly and smiled. "Of course you did."

He didn't have an answer to that, so he left the air silent. She was typing something into the scanner, he knew, but he didn't know why.

"What are you doing?" He suddenly asked.

She glanced over. "Going back to Stormcage. I don't feel like going somewhere else."

He stood up abruptly, screwdriver falling out of his lap and onto the floor. "Then don't."

"What?"

He walked quietly over, hands stuffed in his pocket and trying to think up a good response. "Well, you don't have to leave yet. You can stay in here a little longer. I'm sure there's a room onboard for you..." His voice trailed off as he realized that if she had a room, it was his.

She gave a tight-lipped smile. "It's fine, honey. Really. I've got a cot at Stormcage."

"Can't be as good as mine." He replied instantly, and his face reddened as he realized what he said. "I mean, you probably usually sleep in... yeah, and the bed just happens to be the best one engineered in the 67th century. So I think that you could get a better rest here, is all."

She smirked, and he gulped.

"You think I sleep in your room?"

"Well. . ." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "I just assumed, since you're, you know... It's fine if you have a room! Not mine. I mean, if you have a room by yourself. That's fine. That's-that's good, but you were-"

"Hey." She interrupted softly, and he met her gaze, surprised to see the gentle fondness there that had replaced the piercing smugness and mischief. "It's alright. I know you're uncomfortable. I'm just going to go back, my cot's perfectly comfortable, and you can get some rest."

He looked down, finding it hard to stand her giving him that adoring look when he knew he couldn't match it yet. "I just-" He swallowed. "I just wanted you to stay a little longer. I get it, though," he added hastily, "If you have to go back. That makes sense, that's fine," he squeezed his eyes shut, "it's fine." He repeated.

There was a soft breath against his ear, and his eyes snapped open as River's mouth gently touched his cheek. She pulled back and put a finger under his chin, tilting his head to look at her. "I'll stay if you want me to, okay?"

He nodded quickly. "Okay."

---------

It turned out she did sleep in his room.

She didn't tell him that, didn't even go to his room, just told the TARDIS to make her one. He found out she slept in his room when he walked in to rest an hour or so.

There were heels in his closet when he took his boots off, and women's clothing now took up half of it. There was lingere where his pajama's normally were (and fine, maybe he did take a piece out to examine). It took him going through several more drawers in the dresser to find his button up fleece, and he passed through shorts that definitely weren't his, fluffy socks (he giggled at the very image-River Song in fluffy socks), tank tops, and worn out T-shirts from his previous regenerations that should've been in the wardrobe.

River Song slept in his shirts?

The thought was so perfect and bewildering he repeated it.

River Song slept in his shirts.

It had to be, though. They were too big for anything else, and he didn't put them in there for him.

The hat rack hanging on the wall was empty, though, and he pouted at the fact that they were probably blown into pieces on some random planet. His bed was bigger, too, he noticed. It had been a double, and was now a king. The duvet was different as well, a softer, almost silky TARDIS blue that draped over the edges instead of his slightly faded brown one that was scratchy and needed a washing. And there were two pillows at the head of the bed instead of one.

He didn't know which side to sleep on.

Usually, in the rare times he actually needed sleep, he'd just climb to the middle and spread his limbs across. But now there were two pillows, each the same, and no nightstands on the side to tell him which side. Was it the one closest to the door? Or the other side? He didn't sleep much, and always got up earlier than his companions, so maybe he slept closest to the door so he wouldn't walk as far. Then again, River did seem like the early-riser type.

He rolled under the covers for a good 10 minutes before deciding that he had to know, because if he slept on the wrong side then the next time she came to sleep in here, then he could pick the one she usually slept on and then he'd have to explain that he- yeah. He needed to know.

He walked in his socks, his footfalls muffled into gentle thump thumps as he neared the door River had walked into.

He opened it without hesitation, only remembering after that people tended to think that was rude and that he could've walked in on her changing.

Fortunately, she was already in bed (sort of fortunately. He wasn't sure he'd have minded).

"Sweetie?" She whispered. "What is it?"

She was awake, leaning on her elbows and looking at him.

He scratched his head, suddenly realizing that this wouldn't sound like he thought it would. "I-" He paused, taking her in, "Are you wearing my shirt?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. What's wrong?"

"Well, I changed clothes, and then I was getting into bed. The thing is-" He stopped, mouth going dry at the realization that River probably didn't sleep in her bra, and that underneath that thin fabric there was nothing else. He made a mental note to find that shirt as soon as she left the next day and to wear it the next time he slept. She smirked, as if she could read his thoughts (well, either that or she saw the direction his eyes were going), and crossed her arms in front of her, which just let him see the faint-

"Yes?"

Right. He directed his gaze back to her eyes and cleared his throat. "The thing is, I don't know which side I'm supposed to sleep on."

She chuckled, a low, husky noise, and smoothed her hair back. "You sleep on the right side. Farthest from the door."

He nodded. Yes, she must be an early riser. Maybe she even cooked him breakfast when they woke up. Hm.

"Okay. Sorry to, um, bug you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

He shut the door behind him as quickly as he could and breathed a sigh of relief. The right side.

--------

He slipped his button-up flannel shirt as soon as he reached his room and opened the drawer of T-shirts he'd found, pulling one out. 'Beatles' was written across the front, and he found himself tracing the letters idly.  

He tugged it on over his head. It was certainly comfortable, and was that- he leaned down and pulled the hem up to his nose. Yes. That was River's perfume.

He smiled, content with his clothes, and slid into the right side of the bed, burying his nose in the sleeve of the shirt and falling asleep.

[A/N. I love reviews! Comment and vote, please!]