HELLO! Here's another chapter... I hope you like it :)

Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with the television series Doctor Who. The TARDIS, the Doctor, Amy, King Henry VIII, and Queen Anne are not property of me. Emily Pond is.

"Okay, um. It's, erm, want to work on math, babycakes?"

"No! I don't wanna never work on math!"

"I don't want to ever work on math, Emily."

"Yah! See? You don't even wanna work with it!"

Amy sighed and glanced at the Doctor, who shrugged. "It was your idea to homeschool the kid."

"We have to do math. It's important." She took a deep breath and rolled her eyes. "I know it's a long way off, but you'll be using it when you grow up. What's 2+2?"

Emily glared at her mother, who was holding her in her lap on the floor of the control room. "Twenty-two."

Amy sighed. "No… try 4."

Emily furrowed her tiny brow. "How?"

That was her new thing. 'How'. Not 'Why' like most toddlers, but 'How'. "Alright. Here's what we're going to do. Let's go to the kitchen." She picked up the small five-year-old and carried her down the short corridor to the small room. "Okay. Sit here." She placed her in a slightly taller chair so she could see what her mother was doing, and Amy grabbed a box of Cheerios and poured a small amount onto the table. "Okay. So I have two pieces of cereal," she pulled two towards her, "and you have two pieces of cereal, how many do the two of us together have?"

Emily took a long time counting the Cheerios. "Four." She said at last.

"Good. Now if I have three, and you have six, how many is that?"

"Nine."

"Perfect." They did a few more problems together like that, and then it became flawed when Emily decided she was hungrier for food than knowledge and began eating the math problems, so they stopped that and moved to reading. "Doctor!" Amy called.

"Yeah?"

"It's your turn to teach!"

The TARDIS skidded with that horrible scratching noise, and the Doctor came running in. "What?"

"Your turn to teach. Reading?"

"Oh, erm, I was thinking we could start with history…"

Amy glared at him. "Where are we? No, wait, when are we?"

"1536! London. Tower of, to be specific! We are going to attend the execution of Her Majesty Queen Anne Boleyn!"

"Emily, go to your room. I need to talk to Daddy for a moment."

"Okay!" She hopped down and skipped out of the room.

"Doctor!"

"What?"

"We cannot have our-my daughter attend the execution of someone! Especially not the beheading!"

"Oh, lay off, Pond. We're actually not at the execution. We're also actually not at Tower of London. We're at Greenwich Palace, 1533. Leading up to the birth of a new prince! Or princess, if we count the fact that we're from the future and already know how it turns out. Go get dressed."

"As?"

"Nobility! That's the way to do it! We're at an important part of history right here! You're a close friend of the Queen, and I'm a close friend of the King. It's simple. Also, we'll need a governess for Emily."

"A what?"

"Governess. Like a teacher, babysitter, and nanny rolled into one. If I am correct, the court provides one, and if not, it won't be hard to find one."

Amy exploded right then. "If you think I will even come close to handing my daughter over to a strange woman, then you are wrong. Wronger than wrong! You are so wrong that I am shocked that your bedroom is on the right side of the corridor!"

"Amy, please-"

"I'm not done with you!"

"Amy, I am just trying to-"

"No, you are- I don't even know what to do with you anymore! You think you're helping, but you're not!"

The Doctor stared at her in disbelief. "Maybe it's time for us to go our separate ways," he said softly.

Amy's already pale face went whiter, and her eyes filled. "Doctor, I didn't mean-"

"No, you're right. I'm not helping, and I should be. You have every right to be mad right now."

"Doctor, I didn't mean anything by-"

"Amy, be quiet. Please."

Amy was full-on crying now. "Please, Doctor! I don't want to leave! If I leave, then I forget. I forget about you, I forget about Emily, I forget about-" she was almost going to say Rory, but stopped herself just in time. "I don't want to lose all that," she whispered.

He reached out for her, but she turned away. "Amy," he began.

"I have to go check on Emily." Wiping her eyes with her palms, she pushed past him and walked out of the kitchen.

She found Emily cowering in the corner, behind the bookshelf. She was crying too, silently, with her hands clamped over her ears. "Hey, little girl," Amy began, crouching down in front of her.

"Are you and Daddy going to- going to- going to- split up?" Emily stuttered between sobs.

Amy sighed and felt her eyes fill again. "I hope not. We just had a bit of a fight, that's all."

At the word fight, Emily whimpered and shied away from her mother and cried harder.

"Okay, maybe fight isn't the right word," Amy began.

"You think?" The Doctor was leaning against the door frame, all casual-like.

"DADDY!" Emily screamed and sprinted towards him. "Mummy said you guys were gonna leave."

He picked her up and she buried her face in his chest. The Doctor glared across the room at Amy. Why would you say something like that? He mouthed at her.

"I didn't-"

"Save it." He turned on his heel, sharply, and left the room, carrying Emily with him.

Amy just stared at the door with her mouth open, before getting her thoughts together. "TARDIS," she said with as much dignity as she could muster. "I need the wardrobe." She stepped out of the room and turned right down the hall, away from the kitchen. Soon, she came across the big wardrobe that held alien fabrics that adjusted and resized to fit the wearer's size. "Okay," she said to herself. "1533… 1533… I need 1533 dresses, preferably in emerald damask…"

She turned a corner and there it was: The prettiest gown she had seen. Over about six petticoats, was a deep gold satin skirt, and over that, was an emerald damask gown, with full sleeves that trailed to the hem and a tiny diamond brooch, in the shape of the letter A. Amy fingered the dress, torn over what she was about to do. She should write a note. A note would be nice. But there wasn't time. She dressed quickly, the corset strings tightening themselves (Thank you, alien tech), and all the proper underthings, like silk stockings and emerald shoes (were those real emeralds on the toes and heels?), a shift, or kirtle, or whatever it was called, and all the petticoats and then the gold underskirt with the gown over it. "TARDIS," she said, her voice wavering. "Is there a back door I can sneak out of?"

The TARDIS seemed to comply, lighting the way to what was just another door in the corridor. However, when Amy opened it, she was in a grassy field under a clear blue sky. What a beautiful day, she thought. She walked up to the doors of the palace in front of her and knocked.

A guard wearing the Tudor colors opened it. "Hello, miss. What can I do for you?"

She smiled in return, gently touching the A on her chest. "Hello. I wish to kill the king."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I wish to murder King Henry VIII. Preferably now, if he's not too indisposed."

An hour later it was sunset, and she was in a cell in the Tower of London awaiting her execution.

She stayed up all night, sobbing for her little daughter, and the Doctor, her Doctor, away in the TARDIS. Far away. She'd heard it leave about a minute after she closed the 'back door'. Maybe they'd noticed her absence. But probably not, otherwise they'd come back, right?

Apparently not so, because all too soon it was dawn and a servant brought down a black satin gown. Completely black. The only adornment on it was the diamond (rhinestone, upon closer inspection) brooch she fixed on it. They brought her a breakfast of soggy, moldy bread and some stale wine. She didn't eat it.

At noon, a guard came to get Amy and walk the prisoner down to Tower Garden, the Executioner's Square. "Amy?" He asked, shocked.

She squinted her eyes, which were puffy from crying. "Ro-Rory?" she said, wiping her eyes again. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

She gave a short harsh laugh. "I'm committing suicide by treason."

"You can't do that, Amy!"

"I can and did. And, if you don't mind, I've got a stake to be tied to."

With that, she ended the conversation by thrusting the door open into a crowded square with jeers and boos from the people to witness the death of her.

"Miss, what is your name? For the death certificate? And for the announcement?"

"Lady Amelia Pond."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, here we have another execution here at Tower Square! A woman has committed treason by threatening to murder the king. Lady Amelia Pond will be burned at the stake this September 8th, Anno Domini 1533, under orders of His Majesty Henry the Eighth of England!"

The crowd roared with cheers. Clearly, it had been awhile since an execution, and they were hungry for one.

There it was, her stake, her wonderful, glorious stake, with a stool on the ground in front of it so she could climb up. When she got up on the stool, they bound her hands behind the pole and her feet to the wooden stick, so she wouldn't fall.

They began piling up fuel for the fire, nice thick pieces of lumber in the shape of a pyramid below her feet and her too-short gown.

They lit the fire, and Amy felt the surprisingly cool flames lick at her feet and catch on her dress.

It was delightful.

Of course, as soon as she thought that, a maddeningly familiar voice cried out, "Wait! This lady cannot be executed here! There has been a warrant out for her arrest since 1530 in Germany! Lady Amelia belongs to me!"

There he was, the Doctor, in his usual suit with a bowtie. "Extinguish the fire, please!"

Someone doused the fire and she was untied from the stake. The Doctor picked her up off of it. "What are you doing here?" She asked him, suddenly feeling a hot ball of hatred in her chest.

"Rescuing you, of course."

"I-don't-need-to-be-rescued," she exclaimed between struggles to get out of his arms. He put her down, and she tore off, weaving between the people and hearing the Doctor call after her.

Ignoring him, she paused, and thought for a moment, before hearing him coming and taking a sharp left through the town…

And ran right into the invisible TARDIS, knocking her over. "Owww…" she moaned, holding her forehead.

"That's what you get for running away and attempting suicide." He snapped his fingers and the door opened, and there was Emily, sitting on the floor, patiently waiting.

"MUM!" she cried, and ran up and hugged her skirts. Amy picked her up and tickled her.

All was well in the TARDIS, at least, for now.