He landed the TARDIS silently on the corner a few streets behind Amy and Rory's house. He left the parking brake off, for once, in part because he wanted to surprise them, but also because he thought if he actually intended to lie low for a while, not making a showy entrance every time he visited somewhere was probably a good start.
The back fence was short enough to climb over with only a minimal run-up, and the lock on the french door clicked open after only a split second's buzz from the sonic screwdriver.
River was in the kitchen, writing carefully in her little blue book. Two steaming cups of tea sat waiting on the table. Without looking up, she pushed one gently in his direction. The Doctor pouted for a moment, then gave it up as a bad job and dropped into the closest chair.
"How'd you know I was coming tonight?" he asked. He leaned back, draping his legs over the corner of the table, and took a sip of tea. It was good – just the way this version of him liked it.
Now she did look up, smiling. "It was the right kind of sky. Hello, Sweetie."
"Hello, River." He took the opportunity to look at her, really look at her – after all, she'd had years to study him – perhaps a lifetime. "When is this for you?" Rather late in her timeline, he thought – there were new lines around her mouth, and the faintest hint of grey in her hair. Her eyes looked tired.
"After the Byzantium," she said. "A bit disconcerting to be introduced to Amy for the first time, so I came here afterwards. I've missed them."
"You?" she asked. "Utah?"
When he nodded this time, her face softened. "You'll want that tea, then."
They were married now, he remembered. Married, and in timelines when both of them knew it. He was surprised to discover himself happy about that. But thinking about timelines made him think about the Library. She'd be going there soon; she'd meet a man who didn't know her; she'd die.
"Time can be rewritten," he'd said to her then.
"Not those times," she'd said. "Not one line, don't you dare."
Before he could grapple with that memory, though, there was the sound of feet thumping down stairs, and then Amy appeared in the doorway, wrapped in a bathrobe and with her hair wet. "River, do you need anything before we— Hey!"
The Doctor swung his legs down off the table in preparation for a hug, but got a whack on the shoulder instead. "Ow! What was that for?" But Amy was already plopping down into his lap and hugging him, so rather than get a mouthful of hair he decided not to argue further. He patted her shoulders once, gingerly. Over her shoulder he could see River, grinning..
"That was a dirty trick you pulled," Amy said, pulling back enough so that she can look at him. "A low down, dirty trick." She paused. "But I'm glad you're not dead."
"Me, too," the Doctor said, and then, "It was necessary. But I am sorry."
"Amy?" More feet thumping. "Does River need any— Hey!"
Rory's look of surprise was even more satisfying than Amy's. Amy climbed out of the Doctor's lap, and he let himself be hauled to his feet and hugged vigorously once more. When Rory stepped back, the Doctor turned to River, who was regarding them all with indulgent pleasure.
"Going to make it three for three?" he said, but she was already standing up, stepping forward, hands sliding up his lapels. Oh, yes, married, he thought, and then her lips were on his, warm and soft and sweet.
When they parted he stood stock still, blinking stupidly for a long moment.
"You two should have a honeymoon," Amy said. The Doctor looked at her, startled, and heard River start to laugh, low and throaty.
"Eager to get rid of me already?" he asked.
"What? No, you big doofus," said Amy. "But you've just got married. Or, I mean, haven't you? Actually, when is this, you know, for you?"
River was still laughing. The Doctor gave her a quelling look, which didn't work in the slightest.
"Yes," he said to Amy. "That is, yes, married, but I don't think—"
"You made sure we had one," Amy said. Rory made a pointed noise in the back of his throat, and she qualified hastily, "I mean, we did almost crash into an alien planet and die, but that was okay. Spiced it up a bit."
"I—" the Doctor said, and then stopped. He had been intending to say, 'I don't do honeymoons – too domestic.' But River was right there, smiling and saucy and very, very appealing, and anyway a honeymoon didn't have to be domestic, did it? "I think that's a good idea, Pond," he said instead, and had the satisfaction of seeing River look genuinely surprised for the first time in a long while.
In the morning they left the Ponds lounging in the garden and went shopping for groceries, then carried their bulging bags of fish fingers, Bird's custard powder, and Jammie Dodgers back to the TARDIS. When everything had been stowed away, the Doctor checked a few instruments, verified that nothing in the immediate vicinity seemed to need looking after, and turned to River.
“Where to?” he asked. It wasn't a test – or, not exactly. But he did want to see what she’d choose. Whether it would be a typical honeymoon spot, romantic and relaxing and boring, or somewhere that needed him, his brain and his hands, somewhere that needed saving.
“Hmm.” River thought about it.
The Doctor started fiddling – tightening the wires connecting the atom accelerator and the typewriter, though they didn’t really need tightening – and watched her via her reflection in one of the console screens. She had one of those secretive little smirk-smiles on her face, an expression that was at once absolutely infuriating and strangely attractive. It was an expression that made him feel things, though he didn’t dislike it as much as he’d thought he would.
River cocked her head for a moment, and then her lips quirked up into a proper smile. She stepped up to the console and ran her hand up the pillar, once, tenderly. “I think we ought to let her decide.”
The Doctor beamed. It was a good answer. “Right,” he said, and sidled around to the navigation segment of the console. “Pick a number.”
“Twelve thousand, four hundred and seven,” River said, coming to stand beside him. “Why?”
He punched it in. “No reason.” River laughed. “Ready?” he asked.
She reached for the throttle handle and he reached for the time rotor lever. “Ready,” she said.
"Geronimo!" They pulled together.