Amy, Elise, and the Doctor walked through the Musée d'Orsay. The trip was a treat for both Amy and Elise.

Elise, because she had recently discovered she liked drawing and painting, and Amy, because there were still times where tears would fall down her face and she had no idea why.

They entered a gallery filled with sculptures and Elise walked over to one. Elise reached out to touch the sculpture, but the Doctor grabbed her hand.

"Don't touch," he told her.

They moved into the next gallery.

Elise once again reached out to touch something.

The Doctor grabbed her hand again and knelt down in front of her. "I told you not to touch."

Elise glared at him.

"You touch something again and we're going back to the TARDIS. Do you understand?"

Elise tried pulling her wrist out of the Doctor's grasp.

"Elise? Do you understand me?" he asked her, not letting go.

Amy just giggled at the standoff between the two Timelords.

"This isn't funny, Amelia," the Doctor said, not taking his eyes off Elise.

"Doctor, she's a child. They always do the opposite of what you tell them."

"There are rules. She needs to learn them."

Amy knelt down in front of the small girl and said, "Next time, we'll go to a children's museum okay? Then you can play and touch as much as you'd like."

Elise's eyes went wide and she nodded excitedly.

"See?" Amy said turning to the Doctor.

"Elise, if you don't touch anything else, we'll go okay?"

She nodded and he let go of her.

"You know, you probably should have brought her bear or something or at least let her bring her sketchbook," Amy said, "River would have known what to do."

The Doctor rolled his eyes at the mention of the bushy haired woman.

They finally entered the Vincent Van Gogh gallery since Van Gogh was one of Amy's favorite painters.

"Thanks for bringing me," Amy told the Doctor.

"You're welcome."

"You're being so nice to me. Why are you being so nice to me?"

"I'm always nice to you."

"Not like this. These places you're taking me. Arcadia, the Trojan Gardens, now this. I think it's suspicious."

"What? It's not. There's nothing to be suspicious about."

"Okay, I was joking. Why aren't you?"

The three of them stopped to watch a tour guide.

"Each of these pictures now is worth tens of millions of pounds, yet in his lifetime he was a commercial disaster. Sold only one painting, and that to the sister of a friend. We have here possibly the greatest artist of all time, but when he died you could sold his entire body of work and got about enough money to buy a sofa and a couple of chairs. If you follow me now..."

"Who is it?" a child's voice asked.

"It's the doctor," another answered.

The three of them turned around to find two small boys standing in front of a painting.

"He was the doctor who took care of Van Gogh when he started to go mad."

"I knew that."

"Look!" Amy said, grabbing the Doctor's hand. She pulled him over a painting of a church. "There it is. The actual one."

"Yes. You can almost feel his hand painting it right in front of you, carving the colors into shapes..." The Doctor's eyes zeroed in on something in the painting. "Wait a minute."

"What?" Amy asked.

The Doctor pointed to something in the window. "Well, just look at that."

"What?"

The Doctor ruffled the back of his hair, nervously. This was supposed to be a calm trip, but it was quickly turning into something else. "Something very not good indeed." he said.

"What thing very not good?" Amy asked.

"Look there, in the window of the church."

In the window was an odd looking monster.

"Is it a face?"

"Yes. And not a nice face at all. I know evil when I see it and I see it in that window."

The Doctor walked over to the tour guide and pulled out his psychic paper. "Excuse me. If I can just interrupt for one second. Sorry, everyone. Routine inspection, Ministry of Art and Artiness. So, er..."

"Doctor Black," the tour guide said.

"Yes, that's right. Do you know when that picture of the church was painted?"

"Ah, well, ah, well, what an interesting question. Most people imagine..."

"I'm going to have to hurry you. When was it?"

"Exactly?"

"As exactly as you can. Without a long speech, if poss. I'm in a hurry."

"Well, in that case, probably somewhere between the first and third of June."

"What year?"

"1890. Less than a year before...before he killed himself."

"Thank you, sir. Very helpful indeed. Nice bow-tie. Bow-ties are cool."

"Yours is very..."

"Oh, thank you. Keep telling them stuff".

The Doctor turned around and grabbed Amy's hand. "We need to go."

"What about the other pictures?" she asked.

"Art can wait. This is life and death. We need to talk to Vincent Van Gogh."

The Doctor lightly shoved Amy towards the exit.

Elise hesitated, looking back at all the paintings.

"We'll come back", the Doctor told her, softly, "Promise." He made two crossing motions over his hearts.

Finally, Elise took his hand and let him lead her back to the TARDIS.

They stepped out into an alleyway.

"Right, so, here's the plan. We find Vincent and he leads us straight to the church and our nasty friend," the Doctor said.

"Easy peasy," Amy told him as they made their way out of the alley.

"Well, no. I suspect nothing will be easy with Mister Van Gogh. Now, he'll probably be in the local cafe. Sort of orangey light, chairs and tables outside/"

Amy opened her guide book and flipped to a painting of an outdoor café. "Like this?"

"That's the one."

They looked up and saw the café in front of them.

"Or indeed like that," Amy said.

"Yeah, exactly like that." The Doctor walked up to the café, Elise and Amy following behind. "Good evening. Does the name Vincent Van Gogh ring a bell?"

"Don't mention that man to me," a man said storming back inside.

"Excuse me. Do you know Vincent Van Gogh?" the Doctor asked the waitresses.

"Unfortunately."

"Unfortunately?" Amy asked.

"He's drunk, he's mad and he never pays his bills."

"Good painter, though, eh?" the Doctor asked them.

The waitresses laughed.

The Doctor sat down in a chair, placing Elise in the one beside him.

"Come on! Come on! One painting for one drink. That's not a bad deal," they heard.

Vincent Van Gogh and the man from before stepped outside.

Both the Doctor and Amy smiled with excitement at seeing him.

Elise would have too if she had known more about him.

"It wouldn't be a bad deal if the painting were any good. I can't hang that up on my walls. It'd scare the customers half to death. It's bad enough having you in here in person, let alone looming over the customers day and night in a stupid hat. You pay money or you get out."

"I'll pay, if you like," the Doctor said.

"What?"

"Well, if you like, I'll pay for the drink. Or I'll pay for the painting and you can use the money to pay for the drink."

"Exactly who are you?" Vincent asked.

"Oh, I'm new in town."

"Well, in that case, you don't know three things. One, I pay for my own drinks, thank you."

Everyone around him laughed.

"Two, no one ever buys any of my paintings or they would be laughed out of town. So if you want to stay in town, I suggest you keep your cash to yourself. And three, your friend's cute, but you should keep your big nose out of other people's business." Vincent turned back to the manager of the bar. "Come on, just one more drink. I'll pay tomorrow."

"No."

"Or, on the other hand, slightly more compassionately, yes?"

"Or, on the other hand, to protect my business from madmen, no."

"Or?"

Amy groaned loudly, tired of listening to them argue. "Oh look, just shut up, the pair of you. I would like a bottle of wine, please, which I will then share with whomever I choose."

"That could be good," Vincent said.

"That's good by me," the manager agreed.

"Good," Amy said and entered the café.

The Doctor, Elise, and Vincent went into the café and sat down at a table.

Amy was given her bottle of wine and she poured some for Vincent and herself as they talked.

"That accent of yours. You from Holland like me?" Vincent asked Amy.

"Yes," the Doctor said at the same time Amy said, "No."

"She means yes," the Doctor told Vincent, "So, start again. Hello, I'm the Doctor." He held out his hand for Vincent to shake.

"I knew it!"

The Doctor dropped his hand. "Sorry?"

"My brother's always sending doctors, but you won't be able to help."

The Doctor laughed. "Oh, no, not that kind of doctor." He noticed one of Vincent's paintings sitting on the floor next to his chair. "That's incredible, don't you think, Amy?"

"Absolutely. One of my favorites."

"One of my favorite whats?" Vincent asked, "You've never seen my work before."

"Ah yes. One of my favorite paintings that I've ever seen, generally," Amy corrected herself.

"Then you can't have seen many paintings, then. I know it's terrible. It's the best I can do. Your hair's orange."

Amy leaned forward. "Yes. So's yours."

"Yes. It was more orange, but now is, of course, less."

Elise and the Doctor both rolled their eyes in unison.

"So. Er, Vincent, painted any churches recently? Any churchy plans? Are churches, chapels, religiousy stuff like that, something you'd like to get into? You know, fairly soon?" the Doctor asked.

"Well, there is one church I'm thinking of painting when the weather is right."

"That is very good news."

A woman ran into the café screaming, "She's been murdered! Help me!"

"That, on the other hand, isn't quite such good news. Come on, Amy, Vincent, Elise!"

They all got up from their chairs and ran out into the street.

"Please, let me look. I'm a doctor," the Doctor said, kneeling next to the body.

Amy picked Elise up and covered her face with her scarf. She didn't need to see something like this.

"Oh no, no, no."

A woman came running up to them. "Away, all of you vultures. This is my daughter. Giselle. What monster could have done this? Get away from her!"

"Okay, okay," the Doctor said standing up and backing away from the distraught mother.

"Get that madman out of here!" she yelled.

The crowd started throwing stones at them.

"You bring this on us. Your madness! You!"

They all ran out into an alleyway.

"Are you all right?" the Doctor asked Vincent.

Amy checked Elise over for any injuries, but the small Timelord was unharmed.

"Yes, I'm used to it," Vincent told him.

"Has anything like this murder happened here before?"

"Only a week ago. It's a terrible time."

"As I thought. As I thought. Come on, we'd better get you home."

"Where are you staying tonight?"

The Doctor clapped Vincent on the shoulder with a smile. "Oh, you're very kind."

Amy giggled nervously and then followed after the Doctor, Elise still in her arms.