Note: This chapter consists of the first two chapters of the fic as uploaded to AO3. It was written just after "The Time of Angels", though the fic overall is set just after "Cold Blood"

Amy met River Song again in the 22nd century at the University of Surrey.

In theory they were just passing through on their way to see the rebuilt Guildford Cathedral: it was apparently a "perfect example of post-invasion architecture". Which didn't sound very exciting, but if there were two things Amy had learned from her travels with the Doctor, it was that things never went according to plan, and that whatever actually happened once they went awry was generally very exciting indeed.

And sure enough, they'd barely stepped out of the TARDIS before the Doctor had started babbling something about satellites and sentient electromagnetic waves and he'd co-opted some random academic to help him commandeer the radio telescope. Unfortunately, while she had no intention of "staying in the TARDIS where it's safe" he'd somehow managed to give Amy the slip somewhere in the physics department, and after wandering about aimlessly for a while she had decided she might as well get herself some lunch.

Of course it was only after she'd piled her tray with what appeared to be some sort of green tofu curry with rice (at least, she hoped it was rice, since it was green too) and gotten through the queue to the checkout that it occurred to her that all her money was nearly two centuries out of date.

"That's alright," said the woman behind her, "I'll pay."

Amy turned around and was greeted with a knowing grin from an oddly familiar looking blonde. "Oh, that's very kind," said Amy, "but you needn't...I have a friend who can get me some lunch later. When I can find him."

"Don't worry about it," said the woman, "I'll consider myself paid back several times over if you can tell me where you got that fantastic outfit."

"Oh, you know..." said Amy, demurring, as they walked towards a table, "just some shop."

"I doubt that," said the woman, sitting down "That's authentic turn of the 21st century fashion, or at least a very good replica. And look at your tights! Are they real nylon?"

Crap. Nobody else had ever said anything about her clothes, why did she have to stand in line in front of a smarty pants like...Amy looked closer and realised who she was sitting with. River was much younger, no older than her mid twenties, but it was definitely her. Ha! The doctor was going to be freaked.

"Ok, I admit it," said Amy, "I'm a big 21st century re-enactment nerd. I and my friends like to dress up like people from a hundred and eighty years ago and then we have big parties and...talk on our mobile phones and complain about global warming. It's a bit embarrassing really."

River laughed and Amy was suddenly struck by how pretty she was. Not that grown-up bossing-around-the-Doctor River wasn't attractive too in her way, but on the whole Amy preferred people her own age. Well, who at least looked like they were her own age, added a traitorous little voice she decided she wasn't paying attention to.

"That's certainly an odd hobby, but I can think of plenty that are more embarrassing," said River, "And I'm not going to judge anyone for being obsessed with the past, I'm doing a degree in Ancient History. At least you get to mess about with clothes, all I ever seem to do is read a bunch of musty books."

"Yes, I can see how that might get a bit dull," said Amy, "Have you ever considered archeology?"

The Doctor found them two hours later in the campus bar, where a conversation about differing cultural attitudes to psychoactive substances had led to the sampling of a range of beers which granted the drinker mild touch telepathy, and this of course had led to experiments with trying to figure out how many fingers the other was holding behind their back while kissing them.

"Hello, Amy," he said in a cheerful tone tinged with just a hint of disapproval, "I see you've made a friend. Anyway, crisis averted, all I had to do was OH MY GOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING THAT'S RI..." and then he opened and closed his mouth a few times like a fish before closing it firmly and glaring at her very significantly.

"Right," said Amy, "River, it was incredibly nice meeting you but I have to go. Doc...You, you need to give me one decapound ninepence to pay her back for lunch."

"No, really, it's fine, I consider myself more than repaid," River grinned. "Is this another of your re-enactment friends? I think what you guys do is marvellous. Look at that bow-tie! Though I'm not sure it's quite period with those shoes."

"You're absolutely right, very lax of me. I must invest in some spats. And now I'm very sorry to rush off but we have to go."

Amy regretfully made her goodbyes and was frogmarched by the Doctor back to the TARDIS.

"What were you thinking?" he shouted, "She hasn't even met me...us yet. And you know she's not meant to meet you at all until much, much later. You could cause a rift in the space-time continuum!"

"All we know is that she didn't seem to recognise me when we met in the future. And there's no reason she'd remember some random snog in a bar twenty years later now is there?"

"And that's another thing, what on earth possessed you to kiss my..that is...it's just not ethical," he said primly.

"Oh you're absolutely right. I mean she's at least, what...two, three years older than me? Not like you and her, I mean you're...how old again?"

"Nine hundred and seven," he muttered darkly. "But that's not what I meant and you know it."

"Nine hundred and seven," she said incredulously, "What, years?"

"Yes, yes I'm very old. But my point is..."

"No, it's not that. I would have just expected you to be older. You're always going on about how incredibly ancient and experienced you are but I mean...we have castles in Scotland older than that. You're not even as old as Jesus."

"Well, actually...but no, I probably shouldn't tell you that story. Anyway. No meeting, or talking to, or...or snogging the past versions of people you've already met, ok? It can only lead to trouble."

"I won't if you won't," she said cheerfully. He glowered from under his quite remarkable eyebrows and waved her away in defeat.

"Oh and Doctor," she said before going into the kitchen to try and find something to eat that wasn't green, "I have good news."

"Yes?" he said dubiously.

"She's a fantastic kisser."

If there's one effect meeting River Song had had on Amy Pond, it was to give her a new found appreciation for museums.

She and the Doctor were looking at a display of artifacts from the nitrogen peat bogs of Circinus 6 when a passing attendant suddenly stopped and stared at her like he'd seen a ghost. When she looked up at him he blanched and walked off, but he soon returned with another attendant and the two of them whispered in conference for a while before approaching her in trepidation.

"Excuse me madam," said the older looking of the two, "but would you by any chance be...Amy Pond?"

Oooh, was this when it turned out she was some intergalactically famous historical figure? That would be awesome. Well...unless she was famous in a bad way.

"Maybe," she said, "Who wants to know?"

"Uh...could you come this way? There's something you should see."

She looked at the Doctor, since he had more experience in telling the difference between the nervousness of "can I have your autograph" and that of "get her around the corner so we can cut off her head". He shrugged. How helpful.

They were led past the alien skeletons and preserved jetskis to a part of the exhibition they hadn't gotten to yet, where a section of the internal hull of a spaceship had been mounted to the wall and lit rather gaudily with lights. It looked ancient, and the little plaque said it had been recovered a hundred years ago after sitting in the bog for twelve thousand years. Burned black into the metal was the following message:

"Dear Amy, stuck in submerged spaceship at coordinates -31.98522,115.836239 at 10:45pm on January 25 2186. Will repay rescue with dinner. Love, River."

Under this it said "Please forward to Amy Pond" with an arrow pointing to a remarkably accurate monochrome image of her wearing a very silly expression. Amy suddenly remembered being rather tipsy and having her photo taken with some phone-computer-device... thing. She wasn't sure if it was flattering or weird that River had still had a copy of it three years later.

"Ha!" said the Doctor, "Now she's doing it to you too. Well, let's see what she's gotten herself into this time."

The TARDIS materialised into darkness. It had taken some time to find the ship, since while it had been at the given longitude and latitude it was also a good hundred meters below the surface of the bog. They were not the only ones looking for River, the rest of her archeological team had spent the last day in a panic after the moorings holding up the ancient starliner had collapsed. "We told her it wasn't safe yet, but..." the excavation director had sniffed, distraught, while the Doctor patted her comfortingly on the back. "Of course you did," he said.

The empty corridors echoed hollowly, the few functioning systems blinking with warning lights. It looked like the ship had been dead for some time.

"River?" shouted Amy. The air was cold and stale, and Amy started to feel ill after only a few minutes. She and the Doctor looked at each other with concern. As they rounded a corner a thin voice croaked "You're late."

They saw the message first, the crenelated edges looking strange in the flickering beam of the torch. River lay half sitting beneath it, the programmable laser she'd used humming quietly beside her. She looked much the same as she had the last time Amy had met her, if a little green.

Amy and the Doctor picked her up and helped her walk to the TARDIS.

"Ha!" she said, just before she fell into unconsciousness, "I knew you were a time traveler. Real costumers don't have holes in their stockings."