The Doctor stared down at the picture in his hand. It was of River, or, rather, young River. Mels, as Amy still called her.

Lovely dark skin, silky black curly hair, and "bad girl" stamped on every inch of her.

He felt a strange tingling. Everyone sort of disapproved of young River. She was a rule breaker, an authority ignorer, a rebel.

If he'd met her when he was in school, he'd have loved her instantly.

It's not like he had a thing for bad girls. He usually preferred good girls, the kind who were always fighting the good fight. He'd known scores of them.

So, why was it River that made him tingle?

No doubt his professors would say it was because she was just like him. But she wasn't really. He'd never been that confident or brash when he was young. A joker, a clown-around, a skive-off, sure. Confident in his own way, a know-it-all, for sure. They had that in common.

But for all his youthful rebellion, it had actually come as a shock to people when he'd really rebelled.

So what was it about River that made him tingle? It wasn't that she was a bad girl, because she wasn't really. She had the biggest, most giving, most loyal heart he'd ever met.

Yet when this picture had been taken, she'd have happily killed him. And yet, all he could think, was that she was beautiful.

'Doctor? What's wrong?" Amy asked, sitting beside him, the picture album in her lap.

He jerked, realizing he'd been sitting there staring, too still for too long.

He cleared his throat. "Could I have this?" he asked, tilting the picture toward her. Dark silky hair, bright dark eyes, and a "go to hell" smile.

She frowned, confused. "Sure, I've got plenty."

He pulled out his psychic paper wallet, and carefully slipped the picture in behind the paper, next to the only other picture he had, one which showed an edge of blond curly hair.

He looked up to find Amy grinning at him.

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