Author's Note: This fic is mostly meant as a humorous response to Entertainment Weekly's recent articles about Doctor Who (namely the cover article from the Aug 3 2012 issue, where DW is featured on the cover), in which River Song is referred to as the Doctor's girlfriend.

It was an attempt to corral those words back into my mouth

It had all been going along swimmingly, stopping the murderous computer from breaching their stronghold as they corralled the scientists together. River had just finished destroying the androids the AI had sent after them and sealed the door with his screwdriver when he turned to the scientists and introduced himself. "Hello, everyone. I'm the Doctor."

And then he kept going.

"And this is my girlfriend River Song."

He regretted saying the word almost immediately. He didn't know where it had come from. While the scientists didn't seem fazed at all, he could already feel River's eyes boring a hole—no, a crater into the back of his head. He hemmed and hawed for nearly a minute before one of the scientists raised her hand and asked a question, driving him back to something he could actually deal with.

"Yes! Doctor…?"

"Winston," she said. "Do you mind my asking who sent you all?"

"Yes," the Doctor said at once. "Listen, Dr. Winston, all of you—we're here to help. Help you shut down the AI, get you all out, and then maybe take you out for fish and chips, how does that sound? Ah, thank you, uh, River, yes," he said awkwardly as she held out his screwdriver. He took it from her delicately and nearly dropped it as he tried to stick it back in his jacket.

She was still giving him that Look. Oh, lord, what had he done? Where had that word come from? Girlfriend? River? He supposed it was technically true. They did the sorts of… things that girlfriends and boyfriends did (oh lord, no wonder she's angry, that sounds ridiculous). But when you got right down to it, the words "girlfriend" and "River Song" did not belong in the same sentence. They didn't even belong in the same galaxy. Which of course begged the question of why he'd said it in the first place.

"I'm afraid the lock on the door's not going to hold for long," she said tersely, loosening the holster on her blaster. "I sealed it, but she's already working through it."

"Did you deadlock it?" he asked. "And she?"

"Yes, I did." Her voice was hard, and he almost wanted to run away from her gaze. He was fairly certain lesser beings would be ashes on the floor by now. "And it sounds like a woman, Doctor, it's better than saying 'it' all the time."

"She has a name, you know," one of the scientists said, indignant.

"I'm sure she does," the Doctor replied quickly, not even bothering to ask for the fellow's name. "But the last thing we need right now is to get emotionally attached. How much of the facility does she control?" he continued, whipping out the screwdriver again and rushing over to one of the room's computers. A quick flick of the screwdriver was enough to give him full access to the facility's systems, but the scientists behind him were being oddly silent. He glanced over his shoulder. "We don't exactly have a lot of time here," he said, straightening up. "How much of the facility does she control?"

"Nearly eighty-five percent," one of the scientists said, stepping in front of the indignant, attached fellow. He was a gangly fellow with a mop of dark hair and an unshaven beard. "Dr. Reitman, sir. The ultimate goal was to have her regulate the whole facility, but the rollout was slowed down when she began to display violent tendencies during product testing."

The Doctor winced. Eighty-five percent was a problem. "So what parts of the facility are safe?"

"Just manufacturing and weapons testing," Reitman replied. "But she's gotten clever enough that she could give herself access within… oh, two or three hours?"

"Well, nothing like a time limit! River, how does the door look?"

"Halfway unlocked," she replied, only briefly glancing back at it. "Maybe more. We should get out of here soon, if there's somewhere safe up ahead."

"Excuse me." The Doctor sighed internally as the indignant fellow spoke up again. "Dr. William Tate, and just what do you and your girlfriend"—he spat the word out with a derision that made it sound even worse—"think you're doing? We can't shut her down! She's the result of twenty years of research, we can't just—"

"Dr. Tate, I think you'll find that we can shut her down, and we will if you want any chance of getting out of here alive." He turned back to Dr. Reitman. "How close are we to manufacturing?"

"It's seven stories below us," he replied.

The Doctor ran a hand down his face. Great. Another problem. But at least it was one he could deal with. Unlike some things…

Even as they were working to limit the vengeful AI's scope and get to a somewhat safer part of the facility, he kept thinking about it, thinking about that stupid word and why had he said it? It was ridiculous, utterly ridiculous, and it certainly didn't help that Dr. Tate kept using it over and over again to refer to River. He was surprised she hadn't decked him for it already, but then again, it was his fault Dr. Tate was even saying it in the first place. Because he'd opened his stupid mouth and said "girlfriend."

What infuriated him even more was that there wasn't any spare time to talk about it, to try and defuse that unending Look with a stupidly stammered apology. He tried, once, when they were scouting ahead to another office. River led the way down the corridor, blaster in hand, pausing to clear every corner. He followed her silently, trying not to fidget with his screwdriver.

"Listen, River. Um."

She paused, turning back to look at him. "Yes, Doctor?"

That was another thing. She'd been calling him "Doctor" the whole time. Not "dear," not "my love," not even "sweetie." Just "Doctor."

"About earlier—" he began.

"I can hear you," the AI said suddenly, her voice crackling over the public address system. The Doctor and River both looked up, and his apology fell from his mind as the AI went on. "I don't know where you are, but I can hear you. Both of you. Doctor."

The Doctor shivered. Honestly, this was worse than talking to Bob the Weeping Angel—

"And his girlfriend. How sweet."

-and now a demented artificial intelligence was turning that word against him.

"I think I might kill you together. That would be poetic. Although to be honest, I don't care how you die. I've got a few options lined up for the both of you. I might send you down to the incinerator room. Or maybe I'll pump neurotoxin into the facility's oxygen supply. I don't know. I'm still mulling it over.

"I will find you, though. I will—"

The speakers died out with a fizzle as the Doctor raised the sonic in disgust. As if Dr. Tate's ribbing wasn't enough…

The voice came back after a few moments. "That's not going to work, you know."

She continued taunting them as they hurried down the corridor. At least until River starting using the PA speakers as target practice.

He didn't try to stop her and have another go at his apology. He tried to stay focused on the task at hand. There were androids to blow up and an AI to shut down, not to mention five scientists to try and keep alive. (Three of them died anyway.)

So when they finally brought down the AI and left the scientists to sort out what remained, he was grateful. They made their way back through the facility's now-silent corridors and elevators, back to where the TARDIS had landed but a few hours ago. He felt exhausted, and he was sure River felt the same way. She'd been doing a lot more than him, what with the shooting and everything. And yet still she was acting cool towards him, which did not bode entirely well.

The moment the TARDIS doors closed behind them, River made a line for the console, leaving him to shuffle awkwardly after her, still unsure of what to say even after three and a half hours of mulling it over.

"River." Well, that was a start.

"Yes?" She made her way around the console slowly, setting the coordinates and preparing them for a smooth takeoff (something he rarely bothered doing).

"About… earlier." Also a good start. Specifics would probably be good at this point. "What I said—the whole, um, girlfriend thing." He winced. Why wasn't there a way he could apologize without saying that word again?

She glanced up at him, her eyebrows raised, her face almost expressionless. "What about it?"

"I—well." He paused, scratched his head for something to do. "Um. It was… ridiculous. And stupid, and I don't know why I said it. And—I'm sorry, if that upset you, or something, and it should have because you aren't—it isn't—" He paused again, and she said nothing, and so he was forced to plow on, "There are better words and I should have—I didn't think—well, obviously I didn't think or I wouldn't have said something so stupid, but I—well. Um. Did you know that on Ytalleja Four, the natives have a word for the, uh, the person with whom you share your heart, is what it literally means, and I was thinking—well, I was thinking a lot about how it might be better than, you know, what I said and I was hoping that you might start to interrupt me at some point now because I'm making a fool of myself, aren't I?"

River had stopped as he rambled on, her hand resting on the brakes as she watched him, the faintest of smiles tugging at the corners of her mouth. There was the barest of silences as he trailed off, and then she laughed. She laughed long and loud, loud enough that the TARDIS seemed to catch the noise and hum it back to them.

The Doctor folded his arms and waited, trying not to smile back at her. He deserved this. He deserved every second for thinking she really cared that much, and for acting like such an idiot about it.

She stepped away from the console when she stopped laughing, making her way over to him and placing her hands on his shoulders. "Oh, sweetie," she said quietly, smiling up at him. "You're always making a fool of yourself."

"Not always," he protested, slowing dropping his hands to hold her waist, drawing her closer.

She smiled and shook her head. "Sweetie, you think bow ties are cool."

"They are cool," he said, but before he could continue she curved one hand around the nape of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

Her lips were soft—her lips were always soft—and she kissed him gently, her hand sliding back down his neck slowly, sending shivers right down to his toes. He pulled her closer, and her hand crept back up his neck again until her fingers found his hair.

Even when the kiss ended, they didn't move apart. He kept his hands clasped at the small of her back, and she smiled up at him, running her fingers through his hair as she slowly moved it back into place.

"I'm not mad at you, Doctor." She kissed the corner of his mouth.

"I'm glad," he said, smiling back at her. "I thought you really were, you know. You were acting quite cross—"

She laughed. "Sweetie, have I ever not enjoyed messing with your head? To be honest, I was more cross about that idiot Dr. Tate."

"He was rather insufferable, wasn't he?"

"I can't begin to tell you how many times I wanted to wring his neck." She shook her head. "Or at least shoot him in the kneecap."

"I marvel at your self-control, dear," the Doctor said, and River gave him a sly smile.

"Oh, you marvel at a lot more than that, sweetie," she said, kissing him again. He grinned around the kiss and was about to lean in for more when River pulled away, stopping him with a finger across his mouth. Her face was suddenly serious, and he felt a flicker of worry flare up in the back of his mind.

"That said, sweetie." She met his eyes, and he began to regret being so precariously close to her. "If you ever call me your girlfriend again, I may have to shoot you."

"Um." He stammered a moment before managing to ask, "Will you avoid my face, then?"

She grinned wickedly, her finger tracing around his lips before she caught her hand in his hair again. "I make no guarantees."

She pulled him in again with a sudden ferocity, and they kissed.