"I have a question," the young girl murmured to her mother.

"What is it, sweetie?" she asked her daughter, pulling her into a hug and ruffling her hair playfully.

"Do I have a father?" From the hesitation in her voice, it was clear she was reluctant to bring the subject up with her mother.

"Of course! Everyone has a father- if you aren't cloned, that is, or from a species that doesn't require a male and female to reproduce," she amended. Her daughter nodded thoughtfully and seemed satisfied, but the girl's mother knew better. A hint of sadness glistened in the depths of her bright green with a hint of brown eyes, so much like her father's that the older woman felt a painful tightening in her throat, accompanied by the sting of tears in her eyes. "Darling, why do you want to know?"

"It seems like everyone I know has a father in their life, or at least knows who he is." The girl paused, the contemplative look on her delicate features at odds with her age. Age is only a number, the woman quickly reminded herself. After all, the girl's father had been much older than her when they had gotten married. "Was he ashamed that you had me?"

Her mother's heart gave a pained squeeze. "No, sweetie, not at all. Never think that."

"Is he dead then, Mum?" Her voice rose slightly; she was trying to learn about the father she had never known, and while her mother wasn't hindering her, she also wasn't helping. She was unaware of the sudden glow of hope in her eyes- clearly she wanted closure, no matter how painful it might be.

"Not as far as I know, and believe me, I would know if he was dead." For just a moment she let herself imagine being in her husband's arms, reflecting on the few precious days they had spent together.

He had been rather scrawny and had a very ridiculous taste in clothes, but all of that had disappeared when they were alone. He would run his hands through her hair, gently pulling individual curls straight and watching with fascination as they sprung back into place, almost with a mind of its own. "You have the most beautiful hair," he would breathe as he nuzzled her jaw and trailed kisses down her throat.

"Is that all you like?" she had challenged half-seriously, planting her hands firmly on her hips.

"I see what you tried to do there!" he exclaimed, pulling back slightly. "You were trying to get me to say something stupid."

"Not that you need any help with that, sweetie."

"Rubbish! I am many things, stupid not being one of them."

She gave a throaty laugh and fell backwards onto their bed. "Prove it."

The rest of the memory was fractured into hints of sounds and feelings: the sensation of her husband's gentle hands as they skimmed her skin under her shirt and eventually removed that item of clothing, the soft sighs of passion that they both uttered, and the warm, hazy, golden afterglow of sex. "Now I see why this is called the snog box," she had whispered directly into her husbands ear; they were so tangled together that they could hardly tell where one began and the other ended. Her husband surprised her by laughing out loud, a strange, careless laugh unlike anything she had heard him do before.

"I think your mother might have said that to your father after you were conceived."

She twisted in his arms and glared directly into his eyes. They were so close that their noses brushed and she could feel his gentle puffs of breath on her cheek. "What...?"

"Penny's in the air," he answered a little mockingly, borrowing a phrase that seemed to belong in another life of hers. When realization struck, he finished," I think the penny had hit the ground."

"Tell me that this isn't the same bed I was conceived in," she ordered. "Is it the same bed?"

"Of course it isn't the same one!" He looked surprised at the question. "How could I have a swimming pool and a fully stocked library but only one bedroom?"

She relaxed visibly into her husband's arms, falling into a contented state of almost sleep. She smiled when he buried his face into her mane of hair and took a deep breath. "I wish we could just freeze this moment and stay here forever."

"Me too," she replied wistfully. "But what about those people counting on you to save the day? You can't just let them down, now can you, sweetie?"

"For you, I would," he replied, so softly that she thought she had imagined it.

The sound of her daughter's voice brought her out of the past like a cold bucket of ice water. "Will you at least tell me about my grandparents, then?"

"Dead, on my side," she replied frankly. She had made it a practice to speak frankly to her daughter and never mince words. "Your father never told me about his parents, but I know that they were dead long before he met me."

"Thank you, Mum, for telling me." She gave a cordial nod, her manner unintentionally cold, and made as if to head out the door of their tiny apartment. "I'll go get groceries," she announced in a civil, though remote, tone.

Words began to spill out of her mother's mouth seemingly of their own accord. "I named you after my mother."

"Evalin was your mum's name?"

"No- Amelia. Your middle name."

A look of wonder crossed her features and for an instant, her mother caught how much she resembled her father. "I didn't know I had a middle name. Evalin Amelia Song is my full name?" she asked, rolling the words in her mouth as if tasting them.

"Yes, sweetie." River Song felt strangely freed after telling her daughter her full name, and decided she could deal with telling Evie more secrets in the future. "On your fifteenth birthday, I'll tell you everything."

"Seriously?" Evie was plainly taken aback that her mother would go from so reticent to being willing to talk freely about her father. "That's the same year you promised me a Vortex Manipulator like yours. This isn't an either or deal, is it?" She seemed to deflate a little as she counted the time in her mind. "Seven years, Mum!"

"You aren't ready for all of the knowledge yet, Evalin. At fifteen, you'll be mature enough to accept what I'm going to tell you and be ready to start to time travel by yourself." River was surprised to see her daughter nod in agreement.

"Deal. I'll hold you to it, though."

"Sweetie, I hope you do." She pulled Evie back into her arms for another hug. "You make me so proud. I know that you are going to grow up to be a good woman."

"Just like you, Mum. I'm going to be just like you," Evalin promised solemnly, her eyes grave and serious. She put one hand over her heart as she made the vow; the girl had never felt more certain of anything in her life than the words she had just said.

River felt tears blur her vision, which she hastily blinked away. "Be better than me. That is all I ask."

A/N: Please review and tell me what you think of my first chapter! I am working industriously to get the next two chapters up soon. Thank you very much for reading my first Doctor Who fanfic!