Tony slumped forward at the table, his whole body curled around his borrowed mug and the hot dark liquid inside masquerading as coffee – or at least as curled up as his ribs would allow. It smelled like coffee, but it tasted like bitter mud. Steve had warned him about wartime rations and the inaccessibility to anything high quality unless one had very good connections and a lot of money, but Tony hadn't quite appreciated what that would mean until he'd had his first taste of coffee.

He had managed to not immediately spit it out, but it had been close.

A plate of eggs and toast was placed in front of him and Tony blinked at it for a moment. He then looked up at the oldest son – he was pretty sure his name was Brad, or Ben, or something like that – and tried to muster up a smile despite feeling only mostly human.

"Thanks, kid," he croaked and then cleared his throat.

"You're welcome," the boy answered with a shy smile and then left to return to the kitchen.

Tony watched him go, automatically bringing the coffee to his lips and taking a sip. He made a face at the taste, but swallowed it down anyway. To its credit, it was strong enough to potentially wake the dead.

"Do you suppose they're all actually hers?" Tony asked Steve quietly.

He wasn't entirely sure where the youngest boy, Timothy, was, but both Mrs Williams and the other two kids were in the kitchen helping with breakfast and therefore out of earshot.

"Could be adopted," Steve suggested lightly. "Between the depression and the war, there are a lot of orphans in New York right now."

Tony nodded. "Or she's been married a couple of times."

"Or that."

They fell quiet as Mrs Williams daughter – who had introduced herself as Bethany, but Tony couldn't help notice that her mom and her brothers called Beth – walked out of the kitchen carrying two more plates. One was piled high with food. She placed it in front of Steve with a sunny smile and then sat down in the space beside him with the other plate.

Tony predicted Bethany would be a heart-breaker one day, assuming she wasn't already. Her face still held the roundness of youth, but between long dark silky hair, striking green eyes and full red lips, she was the sort of girl that would inevitably turn heads just by walking into a room. From what he'd been able to tell, she also had her mother's resolute, no-nonsense temperament despite looking absolutely nothing like Mrs Williams.

She also looked like neither of her brothers. Ben, with his somewhat stocky figure and light blond hair couldn't have been more different in temperament either. And Timothy... well, Timothy was about as excitable as most twelve-year-olds and while his hair was also blond (though a few shades darker than Ben's), he was scrawny with much pointier features than the other two. He almost looked like an elf gone undercover in a barely passable disguise.

Moments later, Ben walked in holding two more plates. He placed one down in front of an empty spot and sat down with the second just as Tony heard the front door open. Timothy's excited voice filled the air, covering most of the sounds of whoever had come home with him, although judging by the quiet, deep one-word grunts it was a man. Mrs William's husband perhaps?

"Your timing couldn't be more perfect!" Mrs Williams called out as she walked into the small dining room with two more plates. "We're in the dining room!"

"The dining room?" a male voice called back, his voice definitely carrying tones of England, though none of Mrs William's Scottish lilt. "Why are we in the dining room?"

"Because we've got guests, dad," Timothy immediately answered him. "I told you that already, geez."

"Right, yes, of course you did." A man walked into the room, his short brown hair slightly disheveled and his eyes bloodshot with exhaustion. He wasn't a small man, but he was built more like Tony than he was Steve (it made Tony wonder where Mrs Williams had managed to find clothes to fit Steve). He put a hand over his mouth as he yawned widely. "Sorry, it's been a long night."

He paused when he noticed Tony and Steve. His eyes widened. "Oh, you're–"

"–It's Captain America, dad!" Timothy exclaimed with barely-controlled excitement. "And that's Tony Stark. He's Howard Stark's cousin. You remember Mr Stark, right dad? He's the man who made that flying car! They're on a top secret mission. Isn't that swell, dad?"

Timothy's father snorted softly. "That car didn't fly," he retorted. "It barely hovered."

"But I'll bet you've never seen a better one!" Timothy insisted with an indignant huff.

Mrs Williams rolled her eyes at them. "Captain Roger, Mister Stark, I'd like you to meet my husband, Rory Williams."

Tony stood to shake the other man's hand. "It's great to meet you, but please call me Tony," he said with a grin. "Both of you. Being called Mister Stark, just makes me think of my dad."

Mister Williams chuckled. "Yes, I imagine it would," he said with a twinkle of amusement in his eye. "In that case, it's a pleasure to meet you, Tony. I'm Rory."

"And you can call me Amy," Mrs Williams added.

After Steve had also introduced himself they sat down to breakfast. Tony found he was surprisingly hungry and polished off both his breakfast and three cups of the black sludge. Apparently, it had the magical ability to become less noxious through continued consumption.

Once everyone had eaten, Rory excused himself to catch a few hours of sleep. "Unless you need me for something?" he asked Amy.

"Nah, I've got it," she said as she cleared the table. "Timothy will show Tony the workshop where we took that device of theirs."

"Device?" Rory asked.

"Something top secret they stole from the Nazis."

Rory's eyebrows rose, but he said nothing. "Well, goodnight then."

Amy laughed at his expression and kissed him quickly on the lips. "Goodnight, luv."

"Goodnight, dad!" three voice chorused.

"Well, guess I should be heading to baseball practice," said Ben, though he sounded somewhat reluctant.

Steve's eyes lit up. "You play baseball?" he asked.

Ben froze and then licked his lips. "Yeah, I do."

"Say, you don't mind if I tag along, do you? Just to watch, I mean." He turned to Tony. "You don't need me for anything, do you? I was thinking I should do some, uh, scouting around the area."

Tony rolled his eyes. The good captain's motives were entirely transparent. But he also had a point: Tony really didn't need him at the moment. He was fairly certain he could fix Kang's time transportation device and Steve would only be in his way while he worked on it.

So, he waved Steve off. "Yeah, yeah, go ahead."

Steve's eyes lit up. "Great!"

Ben's eyes also lit up. "Gosh, you like baseball, Captain?"

Steve grinned. "I love baseball. Woulda done anything to have been able to play when I was your age, but I was too small and sickly to run around the field."

"That sounds awful!" Ben declared, and it was by far the loudest grouping of words Tony had heard from the kid. "I can't imagine not being to play."

"It was awful." And then Captain America's eyes began twinkling with mischief. "My friend Bucky and I used to sneak in to watch the Dodgers practice."

"Wow, really?"

"Perhaps you should continue this conversation on your way to the field?" Amy cut in dryly.

Tony chuckled. "Not a baseball fan, I take it?" he asked her after the two had left.

"God no," she replied. "But Ben loves it and he's actually rather good, so I've developed a... tolerance for the sport."

Tony turned to Timothy. "What about you? You like baseball?"

Timothy shrugged. "It's okay."

"Spoken like a guy who loves his brother, but doesn't understand what he sees in the sport," Tony noted with amusement.

The kid grinned. Tony finished off the rest of the coffee in his cup with a flourish and then stood dramatically. And then winced as his ribs twinged with the movement. He recovered quickly.

"But enough about baseball, now it's time for science!" he declared with much less flourish. "Onwards, Timothy, and show me this workshop!"

Timothy giggled gleefully and scrambled out of his chair. "Sure thing, Mister Stark! Just follow me."

Amy's laughter followed them out of the dining room as Tony followed Timothy to the workshop.

The phone's ringing echoed through the house. Cursing to herself, Amy left her typewriter and ran out of her office in the hopes she might just be able to silence it before it woke Rory up. It was a pipe-dream, of course, as both of them were light sleepers born from necessity, but worth a shot regardless.

A quick glance into the living room as she passed by told her Timothy was probably still in the workshop with Tony Stark since he wasn't in his usual spot glued to the radio for the mid-morning news broadcast. Beth had, of course, left hours ago for the factory.

Amy caught the phone mid-ring. "Hello, Williams residence," she said.

"Ah, Amelia, it is good to hear your voice again my dear."

She smiled at the familiar voice on the other end of the phone line. "It's good to hear yours as well, Winston. I see you got my message."

"I did at that. And, before you ask, yes I'm calling from the phone."

Amy found the over-dramatic way he referred to the simple black phone endlessly amusing. While, true, it had been modified by the Doctor at some point, thus making it far from an ordinary phone, that hardly gave it the gravitas Winston liked to ascribe to it.

"Yes, well, I'm hardly about to tell you any state secrets. At least partially because I don't actually know any."

"Ah, but you would if you took me up on my offer and came to work for me. The war effort could certainly use someone of your and your husband's caliber, not to mention experience."

Amy snorted. "My experience is extensive and varied, but hardly covers running a war."

"Still, you're a bright young woman, you could learn. In fact there's another young woman working for one of our joint operations with the United States. A steady, determined young lady, I think you and she would get along famously. Currently, her operation is also working alongside Captain America and his men."

"Believe it or not I have actually met the man."

The man on the other end laughed. "Amelia, my dear, if you told me you'd met Jesus of Nazareth himself, I would believe you."

"Well I certainly can't claim that honour. Just like I can't claim the honour of taking that position of yours. You know as well as I do that Rory and I can't put ourselves into a position where we could influence history."

"A shame, really. Oh, I finally finished reading your latest book the other day. A fascinating read, thoroughly enjoyable."

"I'm surprised you managed to find the time to do that in between the war."

"Well, one must find a little bit of time to relax every now and then. Besides, I confess to being giddy as a schoolboy at the prospect of reading about a new adventure from you. And this one certainly didn't disappoint. Lizard people hibernating in giant cities deep beneath the Earth? An interesting idea indeed. One could almost wonder at the ease with which you come up with these things."

Amy smirked. "As we've already discussed, Winston, my experiences are quite varied."

"Indeed, indeed. Now, if you weren't planning on taking me up on my offer, why was it you needed to speak with me?"

The humour instantly disappeared from her demeanor. She hadn't expected him to get back to her so quickly. "I just wanted to, well, warn you I suppose. I haven't actually spoken to Rory about this, mind you, so nothing's decided yet, but, well, you could say that something's come up and it's presenting us with a rather unique opportunity." She took a deep breath in an effort to calm her suddenly racing heart. "Just... don't be surprised if the next time you call, we're no longer here."

There was a long pause on the other end of the telephone. "I see. I take it this opportunity doesn't have anything to do with a mutual acquaintance of ours?"

"No. Which is why it's unique and not likely to come again. And..." She bit her lip as she contemplated whether or not to continue.

A creak of wood had her looking up to see Rory standing at the bottom of the stairs. She met his eyes.

"And something disastrous is about to happen. I don't know exactly what it is yet, but if it isn't stopped, it could rip the world, and possibly the universe, apart."

For several, long moments, her words hung suspended in the air between the three of them.

"Then you must do what you must, Amelia. I shall miss you and our little chats profusely, however we must all do our part in making sure the future is a safe place for our children, and our children's children, and so on."

"Yes, of course," said Amy, her eyes still locked with Rory's. "Good-bye, Winston. And good luck."

"To you and your family as well, Amelia. Safe travels."

With a heavy heart, Amy hung up the phone.

"So, I suppose this is the part where we need to talk," said Rory mildly, stoic in a way that made Amy smile. This was her husband. Her rock. The man she'd fallen in love with, the man who'd taken on an alliance of some of the most powerful religious orders in the universe in order to rescue her and their child. Even if he'd only been half-successful.

Amy smiled at him. "Yes, it is."

"Upstairs?"

Amy nodded and went over to take his out-stretched hand.