Fic #3: It Was Enough That He Knew
Title: It Was Enough That He Knew
Author: miracleofmercy
Pairing: Amy/Rory
Rating: G
Disclaimer: The Beeb and the Moff own it, I just borrow.
Summary: Wedding plans. Sort of.
Author's Notes: This can be considered a sequel to Hidden in Red and Blue. I don't think this even has a proper plotline to be honest, it's just a short scene of Amy and Rory being Amy and Rory. Fic's gone unbeta-ed because I wrote it too late and my beta's busy packing to move! :p Written for Challenge 02 at she_is_to_me.
“Blue?!” His tone was incredulous.
“Yes, blue. It’ll be different.” Her reassuring smile was certainly not very reassuring to him.
“No, Amy. I love you very much, but no.” He had to draw the line somewhere.
“Pwetty pwetty pwetty pwease Rory?” Pouted lips and big eyes implored him.
“No.” He was quite adamant on this.
“Please?” She was doing her cooing voice now, which he usually could not resist.
“No, absolutely not. You are NOT wearing a blue wedding dress.” No. Way.
Amy Pond stared at her fiancé. Rory Williams stared back, trying to look as stern as his could. He knew that if he showed even the slightest hesitation, he would crumble and Amy would win, as usual. He should not budge, he should not, he will not. He was not letting his future bride wear a blue wedding dress on their wedding day.
It was Amy who broke off the battle of the stares. Helpless to stop the smile twitching at her lips, all resistance failing, she started laughing. Hard.
“Rory Williams, the look on your face!”
“What?”
“You really thought I was serious?!”
“Um, yes?”
Amy’s laughter was now uncontrollable.
“You mean ... no blue wedding dress?” Sometimes he couldn’t tell if she meant the things she said or not.
Somehow, Amy calmed down, gave a last titter, and looped both her arms in Rory’s left. “No, stupid. Of course not. I am not that crazy.” She snuggled closer to him, the both of them perched over the stone bridge at the edge of Leadworth village, a derelict farmhouse in the distance and some cows grazing over in Mr. Turnbull’s field. This particular bridge was a favourite haunt of Amy’s, mainly because it got her away from most of the village when she had had enough. This bridge was also where they'd shared their first kiss, a memory treasured by Amy, and even more so by Rory.
“Oh.” The grin of relief on his face was not hard to miss, but Amy did not see it as she put her head against his shoulder. He squeezed her hands affectionately, the cool touch of the band on her left hand warming his heart. The future Mrs Amy Williams. I can’t believe she said yes.
She was talking now, but he wasn’t paying attention. He was thinking back to that day near that beautiful lake, the picnic things, the blue carton and the strawberries, the ring in the box, the look on her face when he'd asked her to marry him. She had stared at the ring for a very long time -- a very worryingly long time, he had thought. After an eternity, she’d looked up at him, an intense look in her eyes, the look he’d seen those few times when she talked about the Doctor. There was a part of him -- his darkest, deepest secret fear - that was terrified that she would say no because she was waiting for him, that strange imaginary friend who had returned for that few hours and saved the world with lots of zeroes. That imaginary-yet-real friend who left abruptly, leaving him to pick up the pieces of Amy’s broken heart. But she’d said yes. Yes.
“Rory? Are you listening?”
He shook himself out of his reverie. “Yes yes, yes I was. Uh, DJs and music and the cake, wasn’t it?”
“No, I was saying that the blue wedding dress was a good idea. Would make for a memorable wedding, don’t you think? It would certainly give Aunt Sharon a fit; that would be completely worth the trouble.”
Her eyes twinkled with laughter as Rory quickly turned to her with panic in his eyes and tried to say something, but she spoke up first. “Calm down, I’m just joking. Yes, I was talking about music for the wedding. A rock band or some dance music? Not mushy dated old pop, please, everyone does that, Mrs. Pogitt’s daughter had a whole lot of old and slow 60’s music at her wedding and I nearly fell asleep. You had to rescue my hair from falling into my soup.” She smiled widely at the memory, but her smile faltered as she noticed that Rory was looking into the distance and not paying attention again. This was unusual.
“Rory.” She gripped his hand tightly; her voice low, sweet and caring. “Are you alright?”
He turned slowly, facing her, his eyes taking in every inch of her face. Her beautiful face. “Amy, I am more than alright. You made me the happiest man in the world when you agreed to marry me. Of all the guys in Leadworth you could have chosen, you chose me.”
“I know.” Her smile was enough; no further words were needed from her. He loved her, and she loved him, even if she was flippant about it sometimes. But he could see it in her eyes, and for him, it was enough that he knew.
Author: miracleofmercy
Pairing: Amy/Rory
Rating: G
Disclaimer: The Beeb and the Moff own it, I just borrow.
Summary: Wedding plans. Sort of.
Author's Notes: This can be considered a sequel to Hidden in Red and Blue. I don't think this even has a proper plotline to be honest, it's just a short scene of Amy and Rory being Amy and Rory. Fic's gone unbeta-ed because I wrote it too late and my beta's busy packing to move! :p Written for Challenge 02 at she_is_to_me.
“Blue?!” His tone was incredulous.
“Yes, blue. It’ll be different.” Her reassuring smile was certainly not very reassuring to him.
“No, Amy. I love you very much, but no.” He had to draw the line somewhere.
“Pwetty pwetty pwetty pwease Rory?” Pouted lips and big eyes implored him.
“No.” He was quite adamant on this.
“Please?” She was doing her cooing voice now, which he usually could not resist.
“No, absolutely not. You are NOT wearing a blue wedding dress.” No. Way.
Amy Pond stared at her fiancé. Rory Williams stared back, trying to look as stern as his could. He knew that if he showed even the slightest hesitation, he would crumble and Amy would win, as usual. He should not budge, he should not, he will not. He was not letting his future bride wear a blue wedding dress on their wedding day.
It was Amy who broke off the battle of the stares. Helpless to stop the smile twitching at her lips, all resistance failing, she started laughing. Hard.
“Rory Williams, the look on your face!”
“What?”
“You really thought I was serious?!”
“Um, yes?”
Amy’s laughter was now uncontrollable.
“You mean ... no blue wedding dress?” Sometimes he couldn’t tell if she meant the things she said or not.
Somehow, Amy calmed down, gave a last titter, and looped both her arms in Rory’s left. “No, stupid. Of course not. I am not that crazy.” She snuggled closer to him, the both of them perched over the stone bridge at the edge of Leadworth village, a derelict farmhouse in the distance and some cows grazing over in Mr. Turnbull’s field. This particular bridge was a favourite haunt of Amy’s, mainly because it got her away from most of the village when she had had enough. This bridge was also where they'd shared their first kiss, a memory treasured by Amy, and even more so by Rory.
“Oh.” The grin of relief on his face was not hard to miss, but Amy did not see it as she put her head against his shoulder. He squeezed her hands affectionately, the cool touch of the band on her left hand warming his heart. The future Mrs Amy Williams. I can’t believe she said yes.
She was talking now, but he wasn’t paying attention. He was thinking back to that day near that beautiful lake, the picnic things, the blue carton and the strawberries, the ring in the box, the look on her face when he'd asked her to marry him. She had stared at the ring for a very long time -- a very worryingly long time, he had thought. After an eternity, she’d looked up at him, an intense look in her eyes, the look he’d seen those few times when she talked about the Doctor. There was a part of him -- his darkest, deepest secret fear - that was terrified that she would say no because she was waiting for him, that strange imaginary friend who had returned for that few hours and saved the world with lots of zeroes. That imaginary-yet-real friend who left abruptly, leaving him to pick up the pieces of Amy’s broken heart. But she’d said yes. Yes.
“Rory? Are you listening?”
He shook himself out of his reverie. “Yes yes, yes I was. Uh, DJs and music and the cake, wasn’t it?”
“No, I was saying that the blue wedding dress was a good idea. Would make for a memorable wedding, don’t you think? It would certainly give Aunt Sharon a fit; that would be completely worth the trouble.”
Her eyes twinkled with laughter as Rory quickly turned to her with panic in his eyes and tried to say something, but she spoke up first. “Calm down, I’m just joking. Yes, I was talking about music for the wedding. A rock band or some dance music? Not mushy dated old pop, please, everyone does that, Mrs. Pogitt’s daughter had a whole lot of old and slow 60’s music at her wedding and I nearly fell asleep. You had to rescue my hair from falling into my soup.” She smiled widely at the memory, but her smile faltered as she noticed that Rory was looking into the distance and not paying attention again. This was unusual.
“Rory.” She gripped his hand tightly; her voice low, sweet and caring. “Are you alright?”
He turned slowly, facing her, his eyes taking in every inch of her face. Her beautiful face. “Amy, I am more than alright. You made me the happiest man in the world when you agreed to marry me. Of all the guys in Leadworth you could have chosen, you chose me.”
“I know.” Her smile was enough; no further words were needed from her. He loved her, and she loved him, even if she was flippant about it sometimes. But he could see it in her eyes, and for him, it was enough that he knew.