The Doctor and Amy took their leave of the Williams' backyard that night, after promising the couple to visit again sometime in the future. Although they were still on rocky footing, Amy had no doubt that they would soon patch things up. Being a siren, Lorelei did have a certain influence after all.

"How did you know to come after me?" Amy asked her husband that night as they lay in bed. His arms were wrapped around her middle, making her feel secure and discouraging the baby from misbehaving. It was amazing how responsive he was to something as simple as his father's touch.

"Something just didn't seem right about Lorelei, as I'm sure you noticed. When she suggesting going shopping alone with you, I took a precaution and inserted a locator chip into the earpiece that I gave you. That football and crisps business was just something I made up on the spot. Not too shabby, eh?"

Amy grinned into her pillow. "Doctor, Lorelei said something once about you being different from other men she met," she told him, the thought suddenly occurring to her.

"A siren's power doesn't have any effect on hearts that already belong to someone else," the Doctor informed her, kissing the spot right behind her jawbone that sent a fire blazing through her veins.

Amy didn't need to respond. She fell asleep shortly after, the comforting tempo of his twin hearts beating against her back reassuring her that, at least for the moment, all was well with the universe.

"Amy! Amelia, come on. Wakey wakey!"

Amy groaned and flipped over. She opened her eyes to find the Doctor's nose practically touching hers.

"Doctor, can't you just let me go back to sleep? It's not my fault you run on only four hours," Amy huffed.

"Well I could, but then you'd miss out on my surprise." The Doctor bounded away to the wardrobe. When he came back, he threw something made out of copious amounts of green plaid material at her.

"What's this?" Amy asked, her voice muffled due to the fact her face was covered by a section of the material.

"A dress, of course. Now get up and put it on."

"Make me."

The Doctor sighed. "If you insist." He clambered onto the bed and started to unbutton her nightie.

"Doctor!" Amy pushed him off of her and pinned him to the mattress. "I'm a big girl now. I can dress myself, thank you very much."

"Well then get on with it. We need to be going."

"Or we could just stay here for a little while." Amy pressed her lips to his, her fingers tugging at the buttons on his own shirt.

"Enough stalling, Amelia," the Doctor reprimanded, reluctantly pulling away after a while. He straightened out his clothes and stood up.

"Spoilsport," Amy muttered, taking a little longer to follow him. As soon she was upright, the usual wave of nausea swept over her, and she closed her eyes and waited for it to subside. The Doctor was accustomed to this, and had the dress ready for her to slip on by the time she recovered.

"Where are we going?" The girl asked, glancing curiously at her reflection in the mirror. The dress was very old-fashioned, with an empire waist to allow for her bump. Its tartan pattern looked familiar, and she realized with a start that it looked like the one belonging to her family. Her blazing red hair, which had grown longer over the past months, tumbled becomingly over the square neckline.

"I told you it was a surprise," said the Doctor mysteriously, adjusting his bowtie. Amy just had time to register that he had exchanged his usual blue or red for one bearing the same tartan as her dress before he grabbed her hand and yanked her into the hall.

"Wow." Amy couldn't believe the sight that awaited her on the other side of the TARDIS doors. It was night once more—which felt odd considering she had just woken up—although the darkness was set ablaze by millions of lanterns strung out over a setup of booths. Some kind of gathering seemed to be in progress, and those in attendance swarmed between the booths, dressed in earth tones and tartan skirts and sashes. A merry flute was piping its melody into the air, accompanied by a fiddle, and in the distance Amy could hear the whine of bagpipes. Squat stone buildings with smoke curling up from their chimneys huddled close together not far off, looking at home in the sloping, heather-blanketed hills. A river snaked away from them, its waters still and silvery in the moonlight.

"Thought you might want to see Inverness in the seventeen hundreds," the Doctor said softly.

"We're in Scotland?" Amy was speechless. She hadn't seen her homeland since she was seven, especially not this version of it. Tears shone in her eyes as she whirled around and kissed his cheek. "Thank you," she whispered.

"It was nothing," the Doctor said. Although he still had his misgivings about letting her out of the TARDIS again, her joy made it worthwhile.

"You know what would make it better? If you had worn a kilt."

The Doctor paled. "Um, no, that wouldn't be good at all. I'm not Scottish, so, yeah."

"Well you made me wear a dress."

"Which you look stunning in."

"I'm sure you'd look pretty hot yourself in a kilt."

"Not going to happen."

"Chicken." Amy ruffled his hair teasingly.

"Just a little bit," said the Doctor, taking her by the hand and walking with her down to the festival. The booths they passed assailed them with all sorts of sights and smells, from freshly-baked pies to silver Celtic crosses. Amy pointed out everything to the Doctor, her face aglow with excitement.

"Oh look, dancers!" She announced, dragging the Doctor over to a stage where couples were performing a country reel while musicians played a lively tune. They moved quickly, the ladies' full skirts flaring out as they spun around the menfolk. Amy clapped along with the others watching from the sidelines, trying to ignore the dizzy feeling the swirling skirts and the jumpy movement of the fiddle bows were giving her.

Suddenly, Amy's attention was drawn away by someone on the other side of the dance floor. Someone with wheat-colored curls and bright red lipstick and a white jumpsuit that most definitely didn't fit in with the era.

"Amy, what's wrong?" The Doctor asked, noticing her distracted gaze.

Amy didn't answer him. She pushed through the crowd, intent on the woman, who was starting to move away. The Doctor followed her closely, confused by her actions. He hadn't seen what she had yet.

"River! River Song!"

The woman turned and glanced around at the crowd, surprise clear in her expression. She wasn't quite the same River they knew; this one was younger, probably just barely thirty years old. But there was no doubt that she was the mysterious time traveler the Doctor and his companion had encountered on so many occasions.

"How do you know my name?" River asked when she discovered the source of the voice, her eyes searching her for any sign of familiarity.

Amy realized with a jolt that this must be the meeting the older River had spoken of back in Ancient Greece. It was strange to be on the other side of the spectrum for once. She started to respond, but without warning the colors and lights and noises of the festival began to churn around her, giving her a sense of vertigo.

"AMY!"

The Doctor's voice seemed so distant, droned out by the pain pounding in her head. Amy felt his strong arms encircle her as her knees gave out, and vaguely heard River say something, although it was muffled and unintelligible to her. She could remember nothing after that.

I was curious how old Alex Kingston, who plays River Song, was, so I looked it up on Wikipedia and was surprised to see that she's 47. I mean, you can tell she's older in the episodes, but I just wasn't expecting her to be 47. Probably because she's acting with characters who are a lot younger than her. So yeah, just an interesting fact there.

Anyway, thanks for reading, please review :)