She kicked at the loose cobblestone in the road and looked expectantly at Rory.
:Nope, nothing... I've got nothing," he muttered sullenly without looking at Amy.
"Come on, we're in Victorian London! We've got to do something to keep our minds off you-know-what."
Rory grimaced. "Part of that would be not bringing it up."
Amy stepped closer, running her hands over his chest and resting her head on his should. "It's so nice here. We don't have to think about what's going on in the TARDIS." She pouted. "Come on, baby."
He sighed. He never could resist her. Looking skyward, he muttered, "Yeah well, it wasn't as bad when she wasn't our daughter." They began walking down the street.
Amy laughed. "Rory, she's always been our daughter. Even if we didn't know it. She's even responsible for herself happening."
"And you find that perfectly normal? Our daughter, who is a Time Lord, was raised to kill our best friend and eventually married him instead. She went to prison for killing him even though she really didn't the second time, and he routinely breaks her out for what he calls 'married life.'" He made a face at that. "On top of that, she is also our childhood friend responsible for our entire relationship and we even named her after her. We named our daughter after herself, Amy. Herself!"
Amy just laughed at the expression on his face. "Ah, Rory. We've gone all timey-wimey and spacey-wacey."
