#( if there's one thing that carries over across all regenerations it's the stubbornness xD )

[longwayaround]

If he met her at the very end of her life, then... yes, at some point she would meet him for the first time, and he would know all of this, probably more, and she would have no idea who he was. If it didn't happen soon, if she meant more to him by then than... potential, than an idea, than what he knew they would become, then — well, he didn't think he liked that thought much better than he liked not knowing now.

Funny that she'd get spoilers from him, though. He was pretty sure he got that from her.

Their very first paradox.

But this led him to a question that'd been nagging at the back of his mind, one that he hoped she might be willing to answer.

"So we never meet in the right order. Makes sense, I'm never in the same place or time for very long, am I? Have to assume you aren't, either." How she managed the time travel, he wasn't sure, but strongly suspected that she had her ways of getting around. "But does it all ever start to... line up?"

Or would one of them always be much further ahead than the other, with just a few meetings in between where they found themselves on the same page?

An allergy? He expected she would know that — she might know this version of him a little better than he did, actually, considering he'd only been this him for a few years so far. Well, probably a few years. It really was very difficult to track between all his trips, and in the end, for a being like him, it hardly mattered. The 900 years he'd adopted as his age were already horribly off anyway.

Was this... one of her first meetings with this version of him? That would be a nice thought. Maybe they, at least, could align from there, if time and happenstance were kind.

"Don't think so. Never come across one, anyway. But it's a big universe, and I've only had this body for a few years. Could be there's something out there I'm allergic to."

Would it be easier if she brought the TARDIS to him? Yes, probably.

But then he would be sitting there waiting for her, and he'd have to let her pilot the TARDIS — which he knew she wouldn't be able to do unless at some point in the future he trusted her enough that the TARDIS would accept her, and that he would teach her how to pilot her, but still...

And he really, really would rather reach the TARDIS on his own. He'd already ended up knocked out and cuffed just out of reach of anything useful while she sacrificed herself in his place the last time they met. Having her come to his aid this time just... didn't feel right.

And those circles she was stroking on the back of his hand felt nice, too. He could make it another few minutes.

"And miss this nice stroll through the woods?" he asked, offering her a small, lopsided smile. "I'm fine, just... knee didn't get the message. It's not too far, anyway, right?"

"Darling, as your wife, I can assure you one day there will be a day when you know more than me, and you'll be telling me 'spoilers'." She looked over at him with a loving smile. "You're where I got the word from."

This regeneration didn't seem to get the same itch of frustration that came with the 11th Doctor's reaction of early on. Only mild annoyance and somehow a whole lot more trust than River ever expected out of any version of the Doctor at this stage.

"Do you have an allergy, Doctor?" A genuine inquiry as she never came across any implication of that, and the question he posed offered that as one of two options; the other being his body wasn't suitable for what he got. If the hypothetical happened to be fact. "No, that still wouldn't explain why you ran."

River stopped when he stumbled and waited as he regained his balance. They were in no rush, no one was chasing them. Yet. Moreover, she still feared vomiting would be in his near future.

"Are you sure I can't just bring the TARDIS here?" She asked after a minute, thumb stroking circles into the back of his hand.