Chapter Text
‘ALWAYS AND COMPLETELY’ REUNITED?
Considering their very public reunion, it’s not news to anyone that the turbulent relationship between Darillium’s lead singer and guitarist is back on again after a twenty year separation but what readers don’t know is that the pair eloped after the final show of their world tour on Friday.
According to reports, John Smith and River Song of the band Darillium married in a private ceremony in Berlin and jetted off to their honeymoon at an undisclosed location. Speculation abounds as to what will happen next but sources close to the couple say they’ve never been happier. This newsroom wishes them all the best and secretly hopes this means new music from Darillium is on the way!
-
“Sweetie, this is getting ridiculous.”
John winds an arm around her waist, guiding her out of the car. “Oh shut it, we’re almost there. And don’t you dare open your eyes.”
River huffs. “They’re shut. They’ve been shut for the last twenty minutes while you drove around in circles.”
“I was not driving in circles, I was driving here.”
“And where is here, exactly?”
John maneuvers her where he wants her, peers over her shoulder to make sure the angle is just right, and finally moves around so that he can see her face properly. In a flimsy sundress and motorcycle boots, blossoms tucked into her hair and eyes firmly shut, her mouth turned down in exasperated impatience, she is the very picture of everything he’d missed about her. Biting back a wide grin, John says fondly, “Alright, dear. You can look.”
River opens her eyes, taking in the secluded little house he’d found on the outskirts of Darillium – as blue as her treasured notebook. “It’s a house,” she observes, squinting at it like she must be missing something.
John nods, hands behind his back as he turns to survey it with her. “There’s a garden round the back, thought you might like that. And I made sure there was a little studio where you can go and write and get away from me when I’m irritating you and -”
She reaches out a hand, wrapping her fingers around his wrist. “Darling, why have you brought me to a house in the middle of bloody nowhere?”
He smiles. “Because I bought it.”
“You what?”
“It’s about thirty minutes from Darillium proper. I timed it. We’re close enough that we won’t feel like we’re on the edge of the world but far enough away we won’t have to deal with people if we don’t feel like it.” River keeps staring at him in silence so he scratches his cheek and glances anxiously back at the blue house. “As good a place as any to settle down, I think.”
Her eyes widen and he feels her grip on his wrist tighten, her nails biting into his skin. “Settle down?”
“For a while,” he admits, carefully uncurling her hand from his wrist and kissing the back of it. “Or forever. For as long as we want to be away from the spotlight.”
“John -”
“You said I needed all the other things to be happy and you were wrong. I don’t need any of it, River. I just need you.” He meets her gaze steadily, eyes warm and open and earnest. “Let me prove it to you.”
River swallows, looking shaken. “You don’t have to do this, John.”
“It’s already done.” He nods toward the house. “There’s a twenty-four year mortgage payment plan on this place so I’m stuck here for at least that long.”
She laughs, a watery, joyful chuckle that settles around his heart like a balm.
“Could use some company,” he ventures, smiling. “If you’re up to it.”
“You sentimental idiot,” River whispers, dragging him in by the collar for a kiss. John sways into her eagerly, his hands splayed on her hips and his mouth smiling against hers. “Are you sure you can handle it?”
“Nothing I haven’t done before,” he reminds her. “I’ll work from home, writing songs for other people.”
River smiles. “I’ll help.”
“You always do, muse.” John presses a kiss against her temple. “Any suggestions?”
She nods, turning her head until their noses brush and he nearly goes cross-eyed trying to look at her. Biting her lip, she answers, “You might want to start with lullabies.”
John blinks at her in surprise.
River watches him, wary and uncertain, a smile hiding in the corners of her lovely mouth. And he can’t quite believe that he’s here, twenty years of life without her behind him and at least twenty-four more with her ahead of him. Twenty-four years of the little blue house and River and this. He laughs, louder and longer than he has in a long time as he wraps her in his arms and lifts her off her feet, delighting in her relieved giggle in his ear.
“A lullaby,” he agrees into her hair, still grinning like an idiot. “A rock and roll lullaby.”
“Sweetie,” River says, her smile against his ear. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”