FIC: Doctor Who: Thinking of a Name: Amy/Rory: PG-13
Fandom: Doctor Who
Title: Thinking of a Name
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Spoilers through 6x07 ‘A Good Man Goes to War’. References to sex. Mild foreplay.
Characters/Pairings: Amy/Rory
Summary: “When did this child…begin?”
A/N: I’ve been trying to come up with an answer for what the TARDIS equivalent for the “Mile High Club” would be ever since ‘A Good Man Goes to War’ aired. Eventually, this fic popped into my head along with the answer.
A/N2: As this is my first fic in the Doctor Who fandom, does anybody know a good comm where I can pimp this?
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“Right then,” said The Doctor cheerfully as he placed the phone back on its receiver and turned to his companions. Amy was all smiles, happily married and headed off into time and space once again. Rory had eyes only for his wife; he seemed transfixed by the way her white dress somehow seemed to make her glow under the dim lights in the TARDIS control room.
“Bit of a long flight,” The Doctor informed them. “The TARDIS is still fresh off of being blown up and rebooting the universe. I don’t want to push her.”
“That’s all right,” Amy assured The Doctor. “We’re actually feeling really tired.”
“What?” Rory started to say, but he decided against finishing the thought as Amy elbowed him in the ribs. “W-what with all the wedding stuff,” he corrected himself as Amy’s hand found his.
“Yes,” The Doctor agreed with a nod. “After all that dancing I’m rather tired myself.”
“Yes, quite,” said Amy distractedly as she pulled Rory along, crossing the control room, headed for the hall that led to her bedroom. “Good night, then.”
“I’ve remodeled your room,” The Doctor called after her. “Now that Rory exists again and you two are married, it’s fit for two people.”
Amy froze mid-stride, wondering how much The Doctor suspected about what she had planned. What would she find in the room? Rose petals? Champagne on ice? Barry White music playing? Barry White himself, there to sing in person?
“You’ll like it,” The Doctor assured her. “It’s cool.”
“I’m sure it is,” Amy mumbled noncommittally, continuing forward at a more reserved pace. Rory was silent, simply allowing her to take the lead. She stopped outside the door and so did he. Amy’s mind was racing at a million miles an hour. Could she really go through with it, knowing that The Doctor knew?
Rory could feel his wife’s hesitation.
“We can sleep,” he offered in a gentle tone. “I-if you want - we can just go to sleep. If you’re not feeling up to - if you’re not ready, I mean.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Amy said slowly as she reached for the door knob.
“Okay,” said Rory in what he hoped was a supportive way, completely mystified now.
Amy turned the knob and pushed the door open with a quick motion. Rory felt his jaw drop as he gazed at the room. He had no idea how he should react to what he was seeing. His wife was of little help as her reaction was a cross between a sigh of relief and a suppressed giggle. She maintained a hold on Rory’s hand and stepped confidently into the bedroom now. Rory looked to his wife and saw that she had a brilliant smile on her face. Amy was sure, after seeing the room, that The Doctor had no idea what her plans were.
“Bunk beds!” she laughed happily.
“Right,” said Rory, responding with a nervous chuckle, still unsure how best to respond.
“This is great,” Amy explained, picking up on her husband’s confusion. “I was worried that he might know what we were doing and that would just be too weird. We couldn’t just - do it - if he knew we were doing it, could we?” Rory nodded in agreement. “But this is perfect,” Amy continued, “he really thinks we’re just gonna use this room to sleep. I mean I knew he didn’t really understand certain things about humans, but this…” her voice trailed off and she gestured to the bunk beds instead of finishing her sentence. “It’s great though.”
“So, you still want to…?” Rory raised his eyebrows pointedly, looking for further confirmation.
“Of course, moron,” said Amy with a smile.
Suddenly, her hand was on the back of his head and their lips were pressed together. Rory snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her close, responding to the kiss with passion. Neither of them was sure how long the embrace lasted, but both felt it was too short as they pulled apart, listening to a familiar resonant sound coming from the control room.
“We’re taking flight,” Amy observed.
“So, Mrs. Williams,” Rory prompted, all confidence restored by their kiss, “would you like to join the Mile High Club.”
“Mile High Club?” Amy fought back a laugh. “It can’t be called that. It’s not a plane; it’s the TARDIS.”
“Well, what’s it called then?” Rory questioned.
“I dunno,” said Amy pensively. “I don’t suppose anyone’s ever done this before.”
“Well, that means we should get to name it,” Rory whispered as he leaned in and started kissing just below Amy’s ear.
“Have you,” Amy shuddered pleasurably, losing her train of thought, “have you got any good names, then?”
“Not really,” said Rory, frowning as he pulled back and thought. Amy mirrored his frown, wishing he would continue.
“You know, Mile High Club’s fine,” she decided, taking his hand and placing it on her waist again.
“No, you were right,” Rory insisted. “It needs a proper name. I won’t be able to concentrate until we come up with one.”
“Oh, what kind of husband are you?” Amy complained. “There are really a lot of better things you could be doing then thinking up names for what kind of sex we’re having. As an example we could - oh, I don’t know - actually start having it.”
“In a moment,” said Rory calmly.
Amy reached for his shoulders. As she pushed the coat off his shoulders she suddenly remembered that his tuxedo had been a rental and had to suppress another laugh.
“Feeling inspired yet?” she prompted as her hands went after the top button on his shirt.
“I’ve got it,” he announced, clasping her hands between his and looking into her eyes. “The Vortex Melody Club.”
“Okay,” said Amy slowly, brow furrowing as she tried to figure it out. “I understand ‘Vortex’, but where’d you get ‘Melody’ from?”
“Haven’t you heard it?” Rory asked her. “Put your ear to the floor,” he instructed.
“Trying to tell me what position you prefer?” said Amy suggestively, leaning in and kissing along his jaw line.
“Ahhh.” Rory shivered and pulled back again. “Seriously.” He dropped to his knees and pressed his ear against the floor of their room. Baffled, Amy copied him.
They were both silent for a moment, listening.
“Is that the vortex?” Amy asked.
“Must be,” Rory replied. “I’ve only ever heard it while we’re flying.”
“It does have sort of a melody to it,” she noted.
“It was clearer in my room,” Rory pointed out, “you know, the one I had before I got erased.”
“It’s really pretty.” Amy fell silent again as she continued to listen. “Better than Barry White ever was,” she concluded.
“What?” Rory inquired, confused again.
“Kiss me.” She was on her feet again and dragging Rory by his collar back to a standing position. Their lips met once more and it was like an electric current passed between them. Rory was panting for breath as Amy moved down to his neck.
“Wow,” he told her, unsure of how else to compliment her for the sensations she was causing.
“Just - you - wait,” she assured him, punctuating each word with a kiss: first on his neck, then his cheek, then his lips.
“So, top or bottom?” prompted Rory.
“Talking positions again, are we? Dirty boy.” Amy replied with a mischievous grin and then kissed him on the nose.
“The beds,” he clarified.
“Bottom,” answered Amy, steering her husband by the shoulders and applying pressure so that his knees bent and he found himself sitting on the edge of the bottom bed. “I don’t think the bed frame could handle me on top,” she said suggestively, continuing to guide him until his head hit a pillow.
“I love you, Amy Pond,” he told her, smiling warmly as he looked up into her face.
“And I love you,” said Amy, mirroring his smile as one leg moved over him and her face leaned down for another kiss. “And I promise you,” she continued, “neither one of us will ever forget this night.”
“I never forget a single moment of my time with you,” said Rory firmly.
“So, Mr. Pond,” said Amy, so close that he could feel her breath on his lips as they looked into each other’s eyes, “would you like to join the Vortex Melody Club?”