Fanfiction: that ring, sitting under the bench in the hall
Title: that ring, sitting under the bench in the hall
Author: bendingwind
Notes: [Doctor Who | PG-13 | 900 words]
Characters: Amy/Rory
Summary: Rory proposes to Amy three times. For
ladymercury_10.
Rory Williams asked Amy Pond to marry him three times. The first time he stopped by after work and drove her up to the lake, and after a nice, romantic walk, he dropped to one knee and asked (his heart his in throat) if she would marry him. She was as surprised as he had hoped, and when she pulled him up for a hug he felt sure there was no feeling in the world quite as amazing at this.
And then she choked out a terrified “Absolutely not!” and fled back down the hiking trail. He sat there for hours, until the sun had nearly sunk, and finally he made his way back to his car. Amy was sitting in the back seat, very carefully not looking at him, and they drove home in silence. It wasn’t until she started crying on her doorstep that he realized what was wrong, and when he opened his arms, she fell into them like she belonged.
The second time, months after a long discussion on her commitment issues and the fact that “no one stays” was not an acceptable adult approach to relationships, was much more elaborate. He took a day off work and they went to the city. She bought a really fantastic dress and a new pair of heels, and he picked out a slightly cheap suit while she redid her face in a makeup shop across the way. Then he took her to an embarrassingly fancy restaurant and they had fancy things that frankly he thought tasted a bit foul, and he got down on one knee (...again) in front of everyone and asked her to marry him.
This time she said yes, and they kissed and a few patrons who had noticed them clapped, and then later they went out to the car and she told him exactly what she thought of him pressuring her by proposing in front of an audience and declared that he could officially consider himself un-engaged.
It took another month for Mels to convince them that they really ought to talk to each other and stop moping around missing each other, because she really had better things to do with her time than listen to them whine.
He waited almost a year before he asked her again. This time, he really plans it out, the most elaborate thing he’s ever thought up in his life (well, the most elaborate thing he’s ever participated in thinking up, because really Mels comes up with all the good ideas). There are sneaky clues leading her back to her house and rose petals and flowers and silk sheets and an outfit he may be slightly embarrassed about, someday, and of course a ring. She was kinder, this time, when she turned him down. She just didn’t want to ruin a good thing, she told him, and he felt his heart wilt, well, rather a lot.
And it was then that he realized something very, very important about Amy Pond: she believed promises were only made to be broken. So he promised to himself that he would never ask again. He would spend his life with her or for her, whichever she chose, and he would never make a promise that she would fear he might break.
On Christmas Eve 2009, Rory arrives at his flat to find that someone has, well, decorated. Given that he spends plenty of nights at Amy’s and most of the rest at the hospital, he hadn’t really bothered this year. In the time he spent on shift, someone has snuck in and wound fairy lights up and down the corridor and around the door to his bedroom. He drops his bag and locks the door, and then... follows the light. He’s still wearing his Santa get-up from the Children’s Ward, and he feels mildly ridiculous as his door creaks open to reveal Amy, sprawled across his bed as she texts, wearing a... red dress, apron, and maid cap?
“Rory,” she drawls, sitting up and tossing her phone somewhere behind her. “Glad you could make it. Come here, you.”
Feeling a little numb and not entirely sure he hasn’t accidentally stuck himself with a needle of some patient’s drugs, he sits on the bed beside her. She leans over and adjusts his Santa hat, giving him a nice view down her dress as she does.
“Are we roleplaying as Santa and a sexy elf, Amy? Because frankly I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that,” he finally manages to get out.
“Don’t be stupid, Rory. It’ll be hot. And I’m not an elf, I’m Mrs Claus.” She looks at him, expectantly.
“Oh.” He still feels like he’s not quite getting it.
“I’m Mrs Claus.”
“Oh... nope, still not getting it... Amy, why do you want me to pretend to be an old, jolly fat man?”
“Ugh!” She throws her hands up in the air, in the dramatic way that only she can seem to pull off.
“I’m Mrs Claus and you’re Santa Claus, you stupid-face! I’m asking you to marry me!”
“Oh,” Rory says. “Oh! Oh my god! You just asked me to marry you!”
“Yes, I did,” she replies with a smile, and she leans forward to kiss him. “You can give me the ring later, unless you want to wear it. Now, how about some lovely engaged people sex? I told you it would be hot.”
It is.
A/N: Idk gais. Idk. Pre-series 6 Rory is hard to write, and Amy even harder. Eep.
Disclaimer: Fanfiction, not making profit, woo.
Author: bendingwind
Notes: [Doctor Who | PG-13 | 900 words]
Characters: Amy/Rory
Summary: Rory proposes to Amy three times. For
ladymercury_10.
Rory Williams asked Amy Pond to marry him three times. The first time he stopped by after work and drove her up to the lake, and after a nice, romantic walk, he dropped to one knee and asked (his heart his in throat) if she would marry him. She was as surprised as he had hoped, and when she pulled him up for a hug he felt sure there was no feeling in the world quite as amazing at this.
And then she choked out a terrified “Absolutely not!” and fled back down the hiking trail. He sat there for hours, until the sun had nearly sunk, and finally he made his way back to his car. Amy was sitting in the back seat, very carefully not looking at him, and they drove home in silence. It wasn’t until she started crying on her doorstep that he realized what was wrong, and when he opened his arms, she fell into them like she belonged.
The second time, months after a long discussion on her commitment issues and the fact that “no one stays” was not an acceptable adult approach to relationships, was much more elaborate. He took a day off work and they went to the city. She bought a really fantastic dress and a new pair of heels, and he picked out a slightly cheap suit while she redid her face in a makeup shop across the way. Then he took her to an embarrassingly fancy restaurant and they had fancy things that frankly he thought tasted a bit foul, and he got down on one knee (...again) in front of everyone and asked her to marry him.
This time she said yes, and they kissed and a few patrons who had noticed them clapped, and then later they went out to the car and she told him exactly what she thought of him pressuring her by proposing in front of an audience and declared that he could officially consider himself un-engaged.
It took another month for Mels to convince them that they really ought to talk to each other and stop moping around missing each other, because she really had better things to do with her time than listen to them whine.
He waited almost a year before he asked her again. This time, he really plans it out, the most elaborate thing he’s ever thought up in his life (well, the most elaborate thing he’s ever participated in thinking up, because really Mels comes up with all the good ideas). There are sneaky clues leading her back to her house and rose petals and flowers and silk sheets and an outfit he may be slightly embarrassed about, someday, and of course a ring. She was kinder, this time, when she turned him down. She just didn’t want to ruin a good thing, she told him, and he felt his heart wilt, well, rather a lot.
And it was then that he realized something very, very important about Amy Pond: she believed promises were only made to be broken. So he promised to himself that he would never ask again. He would spend his life with her or for her, whichever she chose, and he would never make a promise that she would fear he might break.
On Christmas Eve 2009, Rory arrives at his flat to find that someone has, well, decorated. Given that he spends plenty of nights at Amy’s and most of the rest at the hospital, he hadn’t really bothered this year. In the time he spent on shift, someone has snuck in and wound fairy lights up and down the corridor and around the door to his bedroom. He drops his bag and locks the door, and then... follows the light. He’s still wearing his Santa get-up from the Children’s Ward, and he feels mildly ridiculous as his door creaks open to reveal Amy, sprawled across his bed as she texts, wearing a... red dress, apron, and maid cap?
“Rory,” she drawls, sitting up and tossing her phone somewhere behind her. “Glad you could make it. Come here, you.”
Feeling a little numb and not entirely sure he hasn’t accidentally stuck himself with a needle of some patient’s drugs, he sits on the bed beside her. She leans over and adjusts his Santa hat, giving him a nice view down her dress as she does.
“Are we roleplaying as Santa and a sexy elf, Amy? Because frankly I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that,” he finally manages to get out.
“Don’t be stupid, Rory. It’ll be hot. And I’m not an elf, I’m Mrs Claus.” She looks at him, expectantly.
“Oh.” He still feels like he’s not quite getting it.
“I’m Mrs Claus.”
“Oh... nope, still not getting it... Amy, why do you want me to pretend to be an old, jolly fat man?”
“Ugh!” She throws her hands up in the air, in the dramatic way that only she can seem to pull off.
“I’m Mrs Claus and you’re Santa Claus, you stupid-face! I’m asking you to marry me!”
“Oh,” Rory says. “Oh! Oh my god! You just asked me to marry you!”
“Yes, I did,” she replies with a smile, and she leans forward to kiss him. “You can give me the ring later, unless you want to wear it. Now, how about some lovely engaged people sex? I told you it would be hot.”
It is.
A/N: Idk gais. Idk. Pre-series 6 Rory is hard to write, and Amy even harder. Eep.
Disclaimer: Fanfiction, not making profit, woo.