FIC: Rules (3/?)
Name: Rules
Rating: NC-17 like whoaaaaaa!
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing: Eleven/Amy
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for the entirety of 5x07: Amy’s Choice.
Summary: The dream is fading, leaving Amy with a horrible numbness.
Disclaimer: I don’t own it, sadly. Although, I do think Mr Moffat is doing a wonderful job!
Author’s Note: I am SO sorry for taking so long. I’ve had a horrible, horrible case of writer’s block that is still encompassing my original work but has, thankfully, released my fandom brain. Also, this is now 3/? because gah... I plan to write more. And more. And more... it’ll just take me a while. No porn in this one. I swear part four will be better. And pornier. I know I failed hard with this chapter.
Beta: skullgirl013.
~Part 1~ ~Part 2~
Part 3
Amy’s lying awake. She’s staring at the ceiling, Rory snoozing happily beside her, completely unable to sleep. Less than twenty-four hours ago, she was pregnant. She was pregnant and married to Rory and happy. But that was a dream and, like all dreams, it’s fading. The memory of how she felt, what she did... it’s going away. She can’t remember what it felt to be the size of an elephant anymore, she can’t remember how it felt to be that contented so far in the future and she can’t remember what it felt like to lose Rory.
Now, it’s faded. And she’s left feeling the same way as she did before. The same way as she did before the dream and before she chose him over the Doctor. Rory’s normal. Rory’s the guy she was content to be with, knowing she’d never see the Doctor again.
But she’s with the Doctor now. She can walk down the corridor and be by his side. All she sees when she looks at Rory is something to return to.
Yes, she loves Rory. Oh, god, she loves Rory. She does. But, he’s not the same. She just wants him to come back to.
So she swings her legs off the bed, careful as she goes not to be too loud, and slinks out of the room, bare feet padding across the mesh flooring of the corridor, the TARDIS pulsing light beneath her, illuminating her way into the console room.
“Do you ever sleep?” she asks, softly, stepping into the doorway and looking down at the Doctor from her elevated vantage point. He’s sat on the chair, ankles propped up on the console, a book in his hands.
“Of course I do.” The Doctor grins up at her. “I could ask you the same.” He eyes her nighty, briefly, then looks back at his book. “Does Rory snore?”
Amy rolls her eyes and skips down the steps, landing gracefully at the bottom with a flourish, nighty riding up just a little bit - totally unintentionally of course - as she runs across to lean against the console by his feet.
“It’s late, you know. You should be sleeping.”
“So should you.” He gives her a smirk. “Anyway, time is irrelevant in the TARDIS. I can sleep later and arrive at our next destination in time for sunrise, refreshed and renewed.” He eyes where she’s sat. “You might want to move to your left before you explode the universe.”
She rolls her eyes a bit and steps sideways, more towards his feet but away from the wrong button. Her side is resting against his shins now, but he doesn’t move. Instead he turns the page of his book and continues to read.
“Have you ever had one of those dreams that’s so vivid that you can remember back-story and everything? You know how you got there, what happened to you, and everything’s so very real?” She plays with her sleeve, distractedly. “And then when you wake up... it all fades and you wonder how you ever thought it was normal to have a baby elephant as a pet.”
"You dreamt you had a baby elephant as a pet?”
"That’s not the point of this conversation.”
“Yeah. I’ve had dreams like that.
“That’s how I’m left after those dreams we had.” She runs a hand through her hair, fluffing it up a bit and trying to smooth it down at the same time in the hope of not having bed hair anymore. “And I can’t help but wonder why I was so willing to die after losing Rory.”
The Doctor gives her a smile that doesn’t really reach his eyes, looks back at his book and says, “It’s your brain.”
“What I’m trying to say, Doctor...” Amy walks across to him, slings a leg over his lap and sits down. He lets his knees bend so she doesn’t break his legs, but doesn’t visibly react, merely continuing to read. “...is that I would never choose Rory over you.”
“That’s nice,” he mutters, turning another page.
“Doctor, are you even listening?”
“Mmm...” He turns another page and she yanks the book out of his hands. “Hey!” he shouts. “Elanya was about to kill the High Priest! It was just getting exciting!”
Amy glowers at him. “You have a girl, in her nighty, sat on your lap, and reading is the most exciting thing you can think of to do?” She looks at the book, rolls her eyes and drops it on the floor - albeit respectfully.
The Doctor scowls at her. “You forget,” he says. “You chose Rory over me. I think that takes away your right to...” He makes a gesture. “...sit on my lap in just a nighty.” He gives her another unfelt smile. “Now, if you’d excuse me.” He puts his hands on her shoulders, manoeuvres her so she’s stood up again, and gets to his feet himself.
“Doctor!” she exclaims, following him across the console room and up the stairs. “Don’t just walk away from me!”
He spins around, hands on the banisters either side of him and looks down at her. “Why on Earth shouldn’t I?”
“I’m trying to apologise for being affected by a dream and not knowing what I was saying!”
“Amy.” The Doctor grips her by her shoulders, stares at her determinedly. “You love Rory,” he tells her. “He’s the man you’re marrying. He’s the man you love and the man you can be with all of your life. You shouldn’t throw him away by having sex with your childhood imaginary friend.” He turns away, starts climbing the stairs again and mutters, “Again...”
Amy splutters behind him and runs after him. “I do love Rory, yes, but you and me... we’re amazing together!”
“Yes, quite! We have a fantastic working relationship! Why ruin it by cluttering it up with unnecessary...sexuality?!”
“Unnecessary maybe! But also mind-blowing! Breathtaking! Powerful!” She smirks and offers forward, “Orgasmic.”
The Doctor swallows closes his eyes then look back at her with a steely resolve. “Amy,” he says, firmly, “you are going to go back to your bed and I, too, am going to bed. My bed. Separate from your bed.”
“You know... it’s times like these that I really believe you are nine-hundred and seven years old.” She gives him a pouty look. “I guess I’m just a bit too energetic for you, old man.”
“And it’s times like these that make me realise that you are still a child!” the Doctor exclaims.
“I’m twenty one years old!” Amy exclaims. She shoots him a glare and descends the stairs, dropping off at the bottom and walking back across to the console, crossing her arms and glaring at the column in the middle.
The Doctor sighs and walks over to her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder and turning her around. “Amy,” he says, softly. “Your place is with Rory. Go back to him.”
She looks down at her feet and nods, almost imperceptibly. “Okay,” she whispers. He turns to go but she grabs his hand. “If it weren’t for Rory, you’d be with me, tonight, wouldn’t you?”
The Doctor doesn’t reply, instead he goes running off around the console and exclaims, “Fancy a trip to Rio?!”
She laughs, even though moments before she didn’t want to. “Sure!” she exclaims, throwing her hands up. “I’ll go change!”