Mothers and daughters have a lot in common, but their talks don't always go as expected. Especially if they're Amy and River.
Amy pushed her heels into the sand. River bounced up and plopped down next to her, corkscrew hair lank and stringy with seawater.
River shook her head and wrung out her hair. "What's wrong?"
Amy looked at her. This glorious golden woman, older than she was, yet still her child.
"I wish we'd been able to find you as a baby."
River smiled wryly. "That wasn't possible. It would have changed too many timelines. Mine, yours, Rory's, the Doctor's, not to mention Kovarian, the Church, and timelines you don't even know about."
Amy grimaced and tossed a handful of wet sand toward the water. "I know that. And it's not like you didn't turn out magnificent."
Amy grinned at her. Out in the surf, Rory floated, the Doctor popped up beside him and dunked him, like an evil porpoise.
Rory floundered back up and swiped a splooshing wave over the grinning