* Warning: *
Homosupportive themes within. No offense is intended.
With special thanks and recognition to FFN author "Brighter than sunflowers" for confirming that "Amelia" is indeed the only acceptable name for River and the Doctor's baby. I am so grateful. :)
It began, as their adventures often did, with the familiar, wheezing, vvworping sounds of the TARDIS landing. River was cursing at the Doctor yet again for leaving the breaks on, and nearly-eighteen-year-old Amelia Song was hidden away in the labyrinth of the spaceship, most likely getting into some form of trouble or another.
All was ordinary, but perhaps lacking a certain spark of havoc and chaos that was so commonplace. The atmosphere begged for imbalance, and there was, of course, only one thing for the job.
Their catalyst was this: an accidental visit to Courseyre, a human colony in the first Luleraine system, at the time when it was small and quite unimpressive. Its inhabitants then could not, naturally, have imagined that they would someday rise to an economic glory and recognition exceeded only by a few settlements in that galaxy in the span of several centuries, but were quite content to focus their efforts on agriculture and government.
The people were optimistic, the air was clear, there was land to explore, resources to discover, and endless amounts of merry to be made. The 'pioneers', as they liked to call themselves, were standing at the dawn of an era, and the TARDIS (who could expect less?) had managed to arrive right in the middle of it all:
"Sweetie, I don't think this is exactly where we're trying to get to…" River began gently, peering at a monitor on the console with a furrowed brow. She didn't recognise the coordinates, but she knew at once that they were not what they'd been aiming for.
The Doctor looked up from a digitally projected map that he was studying with sincere alarm evident in his voice. "Nonsense! Nonsense, River, stuff and nonsense. When's she ever taken us somewhere we aren't meant to be?" He paused, pointing at her, raising his eyebrows, as if the emphasis would challenge her desire to be contrary. "Never. That's when," he said slowly, really getting the point across.
River rolled her eyes painfully, muttering something about a "blind ruddy fool". The Doctor didn't notice; he was much too excited for that.
"Amy! Amelia Song, we're here!" he shouted into the depths of the TARDIS, not knowing whether she could hear him or not. He was practically singing: "Laaaaand-hooo! We're Courseyre bound, my dear! We're rocking, we're rolling, and we're here! Amy – !"
"Right here, Dad; stop shouting, for God's sake." She turned to River, lowering her voice slightly, and said to her, "Mum, did he say 'Courseyre'? As in Luleraine?" while her father continued to buzz about the control room, looking quite akin to something between a child in a confections shop and a bull in a China shop. (It was only a matter of time now before he broke something.)
River nodded, seeming resigned. "Yes, and he seems to think it's exactly where we're meant to be." She crossed her arms, and her daughter followed suit. Together, they shook their manically blonde heads and watched the Doctor flip switches and press buttons and check monitors and do all sorts of other useless things that he was so fond of.
Amelia sighed. "Again?"
"Mm. Afraid so."
"Even after what happened at Fleming?"
"Unfortunately."
"Oh, the blind ruddy fool," the girl cursed him.
("What was that?" the Doctor called from the other side of the console; he was ignored and continued his plight.)
"Couldn't agree more," River replied.
Despite the unintentional means of their arrival at Courseyre, the trio enjoyed the visit: for almost a week, River and the Doctor saw the market, the shops, and the new settlements that the pioneers were so proud of. They made nice with the locals, took a few tours here and there, and managed to stay out of trouble – at least for the most part…
(There's not a resident of Courseyre that knows the real reason that the dwelling at the end of Timov Lane is said to be haunted, but the mere mention of it in the presence of River and the Doctor instantly triggers laughing fits and furtive glances shared between the two.)
Amelia, now seventeen, quite independent and self-contained – though still rash and rebellious in her moments – had plenty fun of her own at Courseyre. She left in the morning after breakfast in the TARDIS kitchen and returned 'home' (for the TARDIS was very much a home to each of them) in the evenings in increasingly good spirits.
River had her suspicions about her daughter's whereabouts, but decided to let the girl roam, as she was more responsible and less reckless than she herself had ever been at that age.
And so, at supper on their sixth day on Courseyre, it did not come as a surprise to River when Amelia tentatively began:
"Mum? Dad?" She looked at each of them earnestly across the table. Her parents met her eyes, the Doctor with curiosity and concern. "Ah, I thought you should know… I've met someone."
River smiled, narrowing her eyes in satisfaction. She'd been correct.
The Doctor beamed. "Excellent! Is that where you've been? Meeting people?" He raised an arm above his head as if voting. "So've I! And your mum, of course." He raised River's for her as well, and she rolled her eyes, batting him away. "We've met all sorts of people this week. Good, bad, though not much of the latter; these pioneers, they have just remarkable manners…" He clapped his hands, an idea leaping forth. "You should join us tomorrow! Just today we saw a genetic technician at a farm and some cows and – ah! A donkey,Amy, a donkey!Oh, and the owner of a winery – you're not drinking wine, though, young lady, don't you go getting ideas, and River: don't give her any, dear – and a there's a tailor and a – "
"Dad."
He looked at her, his brow drawn. River put her hand over his, preparing him for the news to come.
"I've met someone… that I like."
"Well, all the people I've just mentioned are perfectly likeable, very friendly. You'd like them as well, I'm sure…"
"Doctor," River winked at her daughter. "Amy means –"
Suddenly, a look of horror graced his features, and he withdrew very quickly, his hands flying to his hearts like a housewife that's seen a mouse. "Amelia!" His eyes were as large as the supper plates in front of them. "You don't mean…" He glanced over his shoulder and left and right, leaning in very close. He whispered, speaking slowly, "You… like-like this person?" He tilted his head slightly. "It is a person, isn't it? Sorry, dear, I shouldn't assume things like this; I know a woman that's in love with a lizard and their relationship is perfectly functional. Oh, is it a donkey? I love donkeys. Donkeys are cool." He turned to his wife, straightening his bowtie, diplomacy asserting itself in his voice. "River, I want a – "
"Her name is Jen and she is a human being and I invited her to dinner tomorrow!" Amelia finally shouted over him, exhausted with trying to break the news gently.
A silence fell over the table.
River, previously content to simply put up with the Doctor's rambling, sensed he would begin again, and spoke before he could. "That's brilliant, dear! I'll help you cook."
His words just cracks in a dam, the Doctor cried, "You've been meeting this Jen all week and you didn't even –"
River took his hand as a mother does to a child on the verge of a tantrum. "No, no, Sweetie, it's my turn to talk now, you've done enough of that tonight. And you can't go complaining about this girl before you've even met her, either; that's not fair. What's done is done, and we'll see her tomorrow."
"Thanks, Mum," Amelia said quietly.
The Doctor pouted. "It's all a big mistake. We don't stay in one place for long, you know that quite well, young lady, so I hope you didn't go getting yourself tangled up in things like," he puckered his face, "love… We're time-travellers, for God's sake! That stuff's poison. Trust me," he muttered.
River kissed him quickly on the cheek. "We know, Sweetie. We know."
He seemed unable to understand why anyone would have the audacity to find someone they're fond of. "Are you not fascinated by the culture? Is that it? Does the resilience of 42nd century human curiosity not interest you? You yourself are partially human, and so's your mum! You should be proud of it! We don't go to these places for nothing, you know."
Amelia exclaimed, "Of course not! You just have your ways of studying culture, and I have… mine."
River laughed to herself, remembering a few culture studies of her own.
He crossed his arms, still looking quite childish. He huffed. "Well. If she's to visit, then she's to visit." Sincerity replaced the hardness in his eyes. "But Amelia, please tell me you didn't fall in love. Please. Anything but that."
"I dunno, Dad," she said simply.
"And you're not pregnant, are you? Oh, dear God, you can't be; this me is much too young to be a grandfather!"
Amelia and River shook their heads at him. "We're both girls, Dad. Don't be silly. I don't think that's even biologically possible."
"Not during this time period, dear," River adds.
The Doctor sighed, seeming resigned, and folded his arms. "I guess I'll learn about her tomorrow at dinner, then," he said simply.
Amy smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Dad. Mum. Thanks." The Doctor began to gather the dishes.
"I have a circumstance!" The Doctor shouted suddenly, raising an index finger importantly. "I get to cook for this Jen tomorrow."
"Nope, no, you don't," River quipped inarguably. "Not after last time. There's still an awful smell in my favourite gown. Can't be worn. No, that's not happening again, Sir."
The Doctor muttered with a disappointed scowl in place, "Fine, fine, fine, just do it yourself then... Women. Bah." He left the dining room with an armful of dishes and as much dignity and pride as her could still muster.
When he was gone, Amelia whispered to her mother, "Thank you."
River winked at her. "You're welcome," she mouthed silently.