Doctor Who Plotfic
Title: All's Fair in Love and War.
Pairings: Adam/Amy/Rory, 11/Amy/Rory
Rating: PG-13/R
Warnings: Heavy non-con themes, kidnapping, mild violence, off-camera rape, off-camera dub-con, het and slash.
Spoilers: for Torchwood 2x05, Doctor Who season 5.
Summary: Adam (torchwood 2 x 5) will do anything to stay alive, even if it means kidnapping and seducing the Doctor's companions. The Doctor will do anything to keep his companions safe. Rory and Amy become the rope in a tug-of-war between a man who can manipulate their memories and another who simply covets them.
Word Count: 7100
A/N: This hasn't been beta'd or brit-picked. If you see an error please tell me. I estimate this will be about 5 chapters, the first three and part of the fourth have been written.
Chapter 1: Opening moves
Adam existed again. He didn't know where. He didn't know when. But it didn't matter, because he still lived. Everything else could wait.
The woman standing before him was no one Adam had ever seen before. Her golden-brown eyes widened and her mouth gaped open. Her ginger hair shook as she jerked her head in reaction to her personal space being suddenly invaded. This Adam did remember, because it happened every time he popped back into existence. Swifter than the cry of surprise on her lips, he lunged forward and gripped her shoulders with both hands.
He could see himself through her memory. Blond, not too tall, not too burly. An honest, wholesomely handsome face that no one could possibly think harbored malice. A glint of humor, a smidge of cunning, and just a trace of humbleness to bring him back down to earth. He felt her confused outrage mix with attraction, and he used both to bore his way in.
With every fiber of his being he willed himself into her mind, carving his image into her brain so solidly that the poor wretch could probably map the moles on his back.
Relief flooded back. Yes, that was the feeling. That exquisite connection, like a deep breath after drowning. He was anchored firmly into the woman's reality and in no danger of unraveling in the next moment. She could turn her back on him and he'd still be there. He let out a sigh of pleasure and deep satisfaction.
Unfortunately, her reaction was rather different.
"Ex-cuse me?" she said, half offended, half alarmed at being grabbed. Adam shut her mouth by causally disrupting her train of thought. He only had seconds to take control of the situation before the other patrons in this store noticed the assault and rounded their suspicions on him. He was still too fragile to handle that much notice.
Swallowing his panic, Adam turned their connection the other way. A flood of her memories crowded his mind. Amelia Pond - Amy to her friends. She traveled. Excellent, few people to contradict any new memories. She was also naturally gregarious and adventuresome. That part would be more trouble. He preferred it when his anchors were timid homebodies, or paranoid geeks. It was easier to isolate them and focus their all their thoughts and feelings on him. She was married to one man and traveling with another, and rather fiercely devoted to both. Ah-hah. That was where he could write himself in. Two men in her life made adding a third child's play. He was simply another traveling companion.
When he finished, he lifted his hands off her shoulders. Amy blinked, shaking her head like someone startled out of a daydream. Her eyes caught his and the blank expression on her face turned into a glower.
"Oi there, Adam, watch where you're going!" It was exactly the cranky tone she would have used for any close friend. Adam grinned with triumph.
Amy stepped away from him and shrugged her shoulders, as if trying to knock some unpleasant feeling away. After two steps, she spun back on him. "--But since you are here. Would you look at this box I found?" She thrust a wooden box at him. "Do you think the Doctor would like it? He's got a thing for old things… what with being… old…"
Her voice drifted off and she looked puzzled again. Probably trying to remember exactly when he'd come in her life and what he knew of this doctor she was talking about. Adam clicked his tongue. First encounters were always so awkward. He never got everything right on the first try.
He put his hand on her elbow and reestablished the connection. This time he poured in more specific memories. She'd met him two hops back and hit it off immediately. They'd shared a drink and he'd shown her some of the sites. She'd been worried that Rory (the husband) would be jealous, but was surprised and delighted when Rory and he hit it off so well. And then the Doctor had joined them and had found him delightful as well. Ever since they'd been inseparable.
Good enough. She could fill in her own details for now. He let out a sigh.
"Old…" repeated Amy, her eyes sliding out of focus. She pulled her arm away and touched her head. "Ow?"
"Is your headache back?" Adam asked, filling his voice with concern that he didn't remotely feel. The pain would fade soon enough - wouldn't even be remembered. "Why don't we go find some place to sit down?"
Amy shook her head. "I'm fine. Don't be such a worrywart. You are as bad as Rory, I swear." She thrust out the box again so he could inspect it. "What I need from you is your opinion. Should I buy this? For the Doctor?"
Adam looked at the box as if it were a rotting animal. It had been a long time since he'd last seen it. The wood had cracked and bleached over the eons. Here and there a chip had broken away from the intricate carvings along the outside. The inside was another matter. It seemed almost to glow. The wood looked young, rich and smooth, glossy with oil, as though time had never touched it. Fine grains of white sand dusted the bottom. Adam felt a jolt of fear. He remembered when the box was filled to the brim. Now it was practically empty.
Snatching the box from her, he pressed the lid shut before any more grains could escape and twisted his fingers over the carvings to relock it. His heart raced and he felt a cold sweat break out. So close. So… damn… close.
"Oi! Don't have to yank it out my hands!" said Amy with irritation.
"I'm sorry, Amy," he said, contritely. "It just looked so… interesting."
"Is something bothering you, Adam? I've never seen you like this."
"No," he snapped at her. "I'll buy it." He turned his back on her. There was no point in alienating his anchor this soon in their relationship.
For the first time he took some stock of where he was. It appeared to be a curio shop. The shelves around them were loaded up with crap and detritus from the ages. Dusty neuro-interfaces were popped up beside a stack of dinner plates. A shelf of ancient and bedraggled books sat just above another shelf of memory gems. They were somewhere between the twenty-first century and the fifty-first. Probably somewhere in the mid thirties, judging by the implant just below the cashier's ear. Amy's memories were rather vague on the matter as though she weren't entirely sure herself.
He found the register and went through the motions of buying the damn thing. The cashier took the box from him and put it into a slick bag with the shops logo sliding restlessly across the surface. "That will be eighty-six nugen."
Instead of paying with currency he didn't have, Adam caught the cashier's hand and pushed a benign little memory into her head. She nodded and turned away satisfied that she'd been paid in full.
Amy had drifted to his side. When he turned around he found her frowning again. "What, was it free?"
"None of that now," he muttered as he grabbed her elbow and pushed her mind hard. She immediately forgot all about the box.
Damn it. He needed a perceptive anchor even less than a gregarious one. What he wanted was a placid person who didn't question things. But Amy wasn't remotely placid. In fact she seemed rather honed in on his mood. "You seem awfully grumpy today, Adam. I swear, you are going to kill someone with that glare."
Adam schooled his expression. "It's nothing. I guess I have a bit of a headache too."
"Then let's rescue Rory and then we both can raid the Tardis drug cabinet. It's got everything in it, I swear, so make sure you check the labels really closely or we might end up turning polka dots, and won't that be lovely." She grabbed his arm and began pulling. "There he is."
Adam would have rather had more time to sift through Amy's memories and establish their history together before having to deal with someone new, but she was already dragging him towards the corner of the shop. A lanky young man had his back to them as he poked his way through the shelves.
Rory was staring rather bemusedly at a statue of a two-headed alien as they reached his side. "How would this work?" he asked Amy. "Does each head control one side of the body, or does one do all the work and the other just kind of hang out…" His eyes caught Adam. "Oh, hello. Who's this?"
Suspicious. That didn't bode well. Worse it didn't fit in with the memories he'd put in Amy's head. Rory should have been happy to see him. Not alarmed.
Amy laughed. "What do you mean, 'who is this?' you dork."
Rory shook his head, mouth gaping with bafflement. He never had a chance to further express his reservations, because in that moment Adam had his arm and was shoving memories in so hard the young man hissed with agony.
Something clicked. Something wonderful. Something positively amazing. Adam nearly lost hold of the man's mind as realization dawned. Rory wasn't just any ordinary person he was a second anchor! Adam grinned with delight. What incredible luck! In all his past incarnations he'd had to make due with one person for whom his entire existence depended. One soul strong enough to alter reality to include him. One fragile strand, who had to be held close, protected above all others. No matter how much he imbued his existence into friends or coworkers - if this one person died his existence would unraveled to nothing and be forgotten.
But this time he had two. Twin anchors to hold him in place. Such unexpected bounty. So bizarre.
What was it about these two? What made them different? There was something odd about them, all right. Now that he was looking he could see they had a slightly skewed relationship to reality. They were mortal as anyone else in the room, so it wasn't that. Yet somehow they felt more solidly connected to reality, as if the world could end but they'd still somehow exist.
They reminded him of his last anchor. Jack Harkness: horndog extraordinaire and true permanent fixture in the universe. Adam almost moaned remembering the loss. That man had been perfect - Adam could have lived bloody forever had he been able to hold on to him. And his situation couldn't have been more ideal. Jack kept himself practically a hermit except for the company of a handful of equally disaffected geeks. They had money, they lived exciting, rewarding, yet terribly isolated lives. It physically hurt to think of what he briefly had.
Sadly Adam while could invade their memories, he couldn't fool a document trail. They sussed him out in less than a week and turned on him. Even that would have been survivable had Jack's people been stuck with ordinary 21st century technology. But they weren't. They had access to 37th century amnesiac pills. Harkness couldn't die, but he damn well could make himself forget, which in Adam's case, was just as fatal. It wasn't fair!
A sudden snarling anger rose up and he vented this on Rory, who staggered at the memory of a particularly vicious (but entirely fictitious) locker room beating from fourteen years prior.
"Are you okay, Rory?" Amy asked, alarmed.
Shocked into the present, Adam drew back. "Oh, he's fine," he said, looping an arm under Rory's to steady him. He let that painful memory fade. It was too soon to hurt this chap. Rejection was too possible. Adam wasn't going to have another Harkness fiasco.
Rory recovered enough to nod. "Fine." He pulled himself straight. "Maybe we should go back to the Tardis now. The Doctor might be worried about us."
"Oh, pooh. We haven't been gone more than an hour," said Amy dismissively. "And I'm pretty sure this shopping trip was a ruse to get us out of his hair. But as happened," she amended, noticing the way Rory sagged, "Adam and I were headed back anyway. The Doctor can just put up with us."
"Good," said Rory, folding his arms to his chest and shuddering. "I've got the strangest feeling about this place. Something seems somehow… wrong."
"Nothings -" Adam began reassuringly.
"--Oh really, some place the Doctor brings us feels wrong to you?" Amy raised a brow.
"-wrong," finished Adam, a touch annoyed.
"Well, okay," admitted Rory sheepishly. "Grant you, most places the Doctor brings us feel wrong to me… but this place-"
-- And that was enough of that conversation. With a casual hand to the shoulder Adam erased his train of thought.
"Come on, friend," said Adam. "You're safe as houses with me around." He reinforced his words with a string of memories of himself, strong, handsome, dashingly confident, coming to Rory's rescue when bad people had threatened him. Rory admired Adam, and felt grateful and secure to have him at his back.
There, thought Adam with satisfaction. That would keep the skinny man's "bad feelings" in line for a while. Later, in private, he'd had to work on that sensitivity more thoroughly. Two anchors sounded lovely, but it looked like both were problematic.
Habit had him taking the lead, but Amy grabbed his sleeve not three steps out the door of the shop. "Wrong way, silly." He ground his teeth for a moment, then put on his most charmingly hapless expression and held out an arm deferring to her.
Amy then lead them through the crowded faux-cobbled streets of old-town New Boston, past the fruit vendors and wooden kiosks where hawkers sold junk. Adam was largely distracted by the smells and sights - both so refreshing! So decadently lively! -- he hardly bothered either of his anchors, trusting that they'd take him somewhere reasonably private where he could finally take the time to do them right.
After about five minutes of crowd pushing, they arrived at an unpromising ally little wider than his spread arms. And at the very back of this plain, utilitarian passageway, was something that stood out even among all the fake olde-timey trappings of touristy New Boston: a blue police call box of the sort that had only existed on Earth for less than a century and never in any sort of abundance.
There it was. The Tardis. Oh, crap. The Tardis. The Doctor. That Doctor.
Adam stopped in his tracks and grabbed both Amy and Rory to prevent them from going any further.
"What is it?" asked Rory
"You look like you've never seen the Tardis before!" remarked Amy.
Amy's doctor was that Doctor. Jack Harkness had been obsessed with that Doctor. Adam remembered being heartily glad back then that the Time Lord wasn't likely to pop in. And here that Doctor was, just one incarnation later, a current feature in his anchors' lives.
Oh, this was bad. Very, very bad. He was in no way ready to confront an actual Time Lord. Maybe later once he was better established and grounded, but not now. Not this soon. Not with both his lifelines at his side.
"Ouch!" said Amy, trying pull away from his tightening grip.
"Stop it!" Rory ordered, whether in reaction to Amy or because he didn't much like being held himself, Adam didn't know. He also didn't care. He was too busy locking away all their memories of the Tardis and the Doctor, and if it meant putting a couple of bruises on their skin, so be it.
"Damn it, Adam, what has gotten in to you today?" Amy said. "This isn't you at all!" She yanked her wrist out of his hand. Rory did the same, rubbing his skin with a look of resentment on his face.
"Why are you so scared?" Rory asked. "You're never scared!"
"Nothing," said Adam, "Thought I saw a mugger."
"Well there is nothing down this ally but us," said Amy. "Well, us and that thing." She pointed offhandedly to the Tardis. "Whatever the hell that is."
Adam relaxed. "You are right. As always. I'm just being a dork. Let's go."
"You know you are," said Amy, succumbing to his charm once more. But then, quite unexpectedly, she turned and walked straight for the Tardis.
Something nagged at Amy's mind. Something important. She took a few steps down the empty ally way, staring at the blue booth at the end. It seemed hauntingly familiar to her. Like a half forgotten fairy tale. As if … but no she couldn't remember.
"Come on, Amy," Adam was saying. "Nothing to see here."
"Is that a police box?" Amy asked. "In New Boston?"
"Sure is," said Adam, "All kinds of vintage stuff around here, just like I told you." He put a companionable hand on her elbow and tried to steer her around so she faced back out of the ally. Amy resisted, completing the spin so that she once more faced the police box. She hated when her men got pushy with her.
"Strange," remarked Rory at her back. "Do you think it's authentic or a reconstruction? What do you think is inside?"
"Nothing at all, I'm sure." Adam replied. "It's just set dressing for the tourists, guys. The door is probably fake." Adam's pull on Amy increased. "Come on, I'm famished and Rory promised to cook us dinner."
"I did?" Rory said, genuinely surprised. "Oh, yes, I guess I did. We'll have to get the ingredients."
"And find a flat to cook them in," joked Adam. "Come on, this way." He let her go and started to walk off.
Amy held back. It was like an itch. The moment Adam was safely a few steps away, she dashed back to the end of the alley. She had to touch the box. Her hand caressed the side and found it oddly warm and welcoming. She'd have tried the door handle if Adam weren't suddenly hanging off her neck like thirteen-stone albatross. He was all but dragging her away.
"Come on, Amy, we don't have time! We can come back and look at it later."
Amy relented and let herself be pulled back out of the ally. Adam was definitely in one of his touchy moods today. Both emotionally and physically. If it was anyone else, she would have slapped his face, but with Adam, it was just what she'd come to expect. In a way it was nice he had a few social faults, she reminded herself, or else he'd be utterly insufferable.
He led them back back to the gantlet of vendors. The open air market was alive with noise and the heady smell of food and Amy found herself quickly distracted.
"Here," Adam said snagging a cloth grocery bag from a rack. "Hold this," he shoved it in Rory's arms. He then proceeded to load the bag up with this and that: Cheese, fruit, bread, wine, moving from kiosk to kiosk like he owned the place.
"Aren't we going to pay?" Amy asked, noticing that more than one of the vendors were staring at them with unfriendly expressions. Rory looked as if he wondered much the same but had been too polite to mention it.
"It's on our tab," said Adam. "They all know me here." He clapped one glowering vendor on the back and waved at another. "We always pay our bills."
Amy relaxed. It was true. Adam was always scrupulous about paying. He also tipped generously and sometimes lent a hand when things got busy. The merchants loved him. Adam clapped another vendor on the back, and the man thanked him.
That was Adam. Everyone loved him. Including Amy, though she wished at times she didn't. As flattering as it was that Adam chose to hang around her and Rory, she always felt just a bit daunted by the sheer power of his charm. It made her look positively drab and dull in comparison, and poor Rory was even worse off. He'd never be half the man Adam was. Somehow that just made Rory all the more lovable.
"And now home," said Adam, loading poor Rory down with yet another bag. The poor sap was staggering a little at this point, but he gave Amy a brave nod to show he wasn't bothered by the fact that he was carrying everything save for the bag from the curio shop. Out of pity, Amy took one of the grocery bags and groaned under its weight. The two then followed Adam as he meandered down the side streets.
And meandered… and meandered…
It began to seem like Adam had totally forgotten where they lived, but Amy kept her mouth shut because she was rather vague herself on the directions. It seemed to her that they'd moved in quite recently after traveling around for months. She finally spoke up when she recognized that they'd looped around. "Perhaps it's off that way," she pointed to a street they hadn't gone up yet.
"I think you are right." Adam wasn't nearly as cheerful as he'd been earlier. He was looking downright frustrated in fact, as if he weren't completely sure what he was doing.
Must be the headache, she thought. Her own head had settled to a dull but repetitive throb. She was more than ready to sit down. Rory looked pale and sweaty from exertion and the late afternoon heat.
Adam suddenly perked up. "You are a genius!" he said to her, clapping her back, then Rory's. Sure enough one of the neat little red-brick row houses had a little placard in the window saying "To Let." It was their house, though really, someone should have thought to take down the sign.
"I don't have my keys," said Rory.
Amy felt a flash of surprise. "Neither do I!" Then suddenly she frowned and remembered. "Oh wait, is this it?" She pulled the necklace out of her bodice and looked at the key at the end of it.
"No," said Adam sharply. "Don't worry, you two stay here, I'll get the key." He raced up the steps and knocked at the door. When at last a little old lady looked out and opened up, Adam shook her hand and then spoke quickly and quietly to her. Then he gestured to them.
"It's just up the stairs guys." Amy followed him into the house. The little old lady smiled at them as they climbed the stairs up to a small but furnished one bedroom apartment.
"Bit tight for the three of us," Rory remarked under his breath.
"Oh," said Adam, "I know, but it's only for now. Once we get jobs we can find a bigger place. You two get the bedroom of course. I'll take the couch as always."
Amy dropped her grocery bag in the kitchen and looked around. It was odd. She knew she'd been there several days, but it was as if she'd never seen the place before. The décor was not at all what she would have chosen. That bit was bothersome the way that police box in the ally had been bothersome. She had a surreal sense of being an invader in her own home.
She wandered through the other rooms. Rather than finding it reassuring, the sense of alienness grew. "You'd think I'd have a picture or two hung up," she muttered to herself as she walked down the short hall. In the bedroom she put her hand on the quaint looking four poster. "These sheets are awful," she remarked. They were dark brownish-mauve, and looked like it had been washed with a dirty aubergine. Amy hated the color. The paintings on the walls had a mass produced look. There wasn't a single knick-knack or token on the vanity. She looked in the wardrobe and the chest of drawers but both were empty.
Where is all our stuff?
"How's my girl," said Adam from the doorway. He gazed on her warmly, as though just seeing her made him happy. Flattering. Wrong, but flattering. Rory was already well aware of his lacking when it came to being compared to Adam, he didn't need her encouraging his insecurity.
"Where's Rory?" Amy asked, cutting off the inappropriate feelings.
"In the kitchen, getting started on supper," said Adam. He was putting the charm on full tilt now, the cheeky bastard. "How about the two of us sit on the bed and talk a little."
Amy laughed uncomfortably. "I don't think so. You lost your chance for that when I said 'I do' to Rory."
Adam raised his hands in surrender and looked innocent. "I didn't say I'd do anything."
"You didn't promise you wouldn't either," said Amy feeling very uncomfortable. "Back off, Adam, stop flirting. I mean it. I'm married, and you know how Rory is. And don't go all pouty on me either. I know that trick."
Adam rolled his eyes.
"Now out of my way, I'm going to help Rory in the kitchen." Amy strode forward expecting to slide past Adam the way she always had, but something about his attitude bothered her. She knew he was going to touch her as he passed, and damn it, she was getting seriously tired of him touching her all the time. Touch, touch, touch, touch. So she stopped short of him and shooed her arms. "Well? Out of my way! Go back to the living room."
Adam looked genuinely shocked, but then he backed out of the doorway and gave her room to pass.
Amy fled to the kitchen. Well, not so much fled as swiftly and determinedly walked, because being afraid of silly old Adam would be too absurd to even admit to herself. She found Rory meticulously chopping carrots and parsnips into cubes and settled herself into the corner next to him with a deep sigh of relief.
"It's a good thing we went shopping," he said. "There wasn't a thing in the refrigerator. Absolutely bare."
"Rory," said Amy, in that way that caught his attention entirely. "Do you ever have days when you just feel something is off. I mean, really, really off."
"Yes," said Rory putting down the knife. "I don't remember this apartment, Amy. I know we've been here a couple days, but I can't find any sign that we have. I don't know where anything is. Things we should have, we don't. Like the sauce pot I need to do this dish properly."
"Yes," said Amy, relieved. She wasn't going mad after all. "It's like we brought nothing. And I know that we left with the Doctor on the fly, but you'd think that we'd have the foresight to bring a change of undies."
Rory's eyes widened. "Wait a second -- we left with who?"
"Adam," Amy said a little uncertainly. "We left with Adam. That's what I said."
"No, you didn't. You said Doctor."
They stared into each other's eyes. "The Doctor," they said at the same time.
"How could we have forgotten him?" asked Amy. "I mean, yes, I know we forgot him before, but the universe ended that time so I think we had an excuse."
"It makes no sense," said Rory. "The Tardis. We were looking right at it earlier today. Why didn't we recognize it?"
"-And how are my favorite couple doing?" asked Adam, in the most conversation stopping voice ever. They both jumped and looked at him with fear. "Stubbornly clinging to the past, I see. Looks like I need to divide and conquer."
Rory grabbed the knife off the cutting board and put himself between Adam and Amy. "You stay away from her." He waved the weapon with determination.
"None of that, now," said Adam grimly, dodging Rory's blade and grabbing his upper arm. "Back to work with you. Amy's hungry."
Rory lowered his knife and then… laughed. "Ah, your right. Enough clowning around for one evening, this will never get done if you keep bothering me. Out of the kitchen, both of you."
"What?" Amy stared at Rory, who had returned to chopping as if their last conversation had never happened. "What did you just do to him?" Amy accused Adam.
Adam shook his head once and then lunged at her. She scrambled away. "Rory!" she called out, but he seemed focused on his damn carrots. "For god's sake Rory, snap out of it. Run and get the Doctor!" Adam stepped closer once more, a smile plastered on his face. She tried to skirt past him, but he blocked her path, once, twice, then hemmed her into the corner.
She was caught. Amy winced as his hand pressed against her cheek. No, no, no, no…. Then she let out a peel of laughter.
"Blimey, I haven't played tag since I was a kid," she said, gripping the counter and breathing hard.
"Well you two can stop playing it in my kitchen, if you please," groused Rory. "I am trying to cook here. And I'm armed." He waved the knife in their direction, "Someone could get cut."
Adam put his arm around her shoulders. "Let's give the man some room. Besides, I have something I really need to confer with you about, let's go to the couch."
"I… suppose," she let him take her hand and pull her out of the kitchen.
Amy was surprised at how much she didn't want to hear what Adam had to say to her, but for the life of her she couldn't rationalize it. Why was she so nervous of the man all of a sudden? They'd been together since childhood. He was her best friend. Her confidante. The best man at their wedding. Hell, she trusted Adam more than she even did Rory when it came to watching her back. Her mind flooded with memories of Rory cowering back while Adam saved them from those revolting vampire-aliens. Adam had been the only one able to drive off the evil Angels. Why did she feel so threatened to be around him now?
As soon as they were in the living room and the kitchen door was shut, she felt a surge of terror at being alone with him. She stared into Adam's eyes looking for reassurance, but the only thing she saw was something strange and predatory.
Rory wiped the sweat from his forehead with an oven mit, "It's ready!" he called out through the door to Amy and Adam in the other room. "Could you help set the table?"
There was no reply.
Figures, he thought to himself. Lazy louts pretending they couldn't hear him to shirk their part of the work. Well if you want something done…. He opened a cupboard and pulled three rather plain tin plates, then gathered up some cheap cutlery from a drawer. He opened the kitchen door with his shoulder and headed to the dining table.
Murmuring came from his side and he turned. "Hey, a little help here?"
He stopped. Words dried up on his mouth and he stared as first comprehension then horror crowded his mind.
Amy and Adam were on the couch together, she cuddled up into a ball, him leaning over her with his arm around her shoulder. Their faces were centimeters from each other, then they closed in and they kissed.
Adam was kissing his wife. Rory dropped the flatware and plates on the table and rounded on them, fists balled.
"Oi, hey!" he found himself shouting. "What's going on here?" The two broke apart and stared at him. Amy looked positively shocked at his reaction. Adam had the utmost gall to be annoyed. "Amy? What is this? I cook the two of you dinner and you cheat on me?"
"What are you talking about, Rory?" Amy exclaimed. "I've a right to kiss my husband, and you volunteered to cook tonight!"
"I - your what?" Rory's mouth dropped, and he lost the ability to talk for a second. Finding his tongue a moment later he managed to say, "I'm your husband. You married me!"
"I did not!" exclaimed Amy. But the look in her eyes shifted from outrage to horror. Adam touched her shoulder and it shifted back to outrage again. "I don't know what you are going on about, Rory. If you wanted me to marry you, I wish you would have mentioned it before I said 'yes' to Adam."
"But I am your husband." He looked down at his hands and saw the ring on his finger. "Look! See, I'm wearing a wedding ring, and Adam isn't."
"You are wearing a wedding ring because you like to pretend that Amy is your wife," said Adam. "I don't wear one because I know she is and I don't have to."
"That's complete bollocks!" He looked from Adam to Amy and back. "How can you believe this, Amy?"
Amy just shook her head as though she had no idea what to think. Adam kissed her briefly on the cheek. "Give us a moment, love," he murmured.
"O-okay," said Amy seeming a bit lost in her own thoughts.
"In the kitchen," Adam ordered Rory.
Rory tightened his hands into fists. "I know that you and I have been friends forever, but this is over the line," he said as he followed Adam. His voice wavered with grief and horror. Amy … how could the two of them betray him like this? It made no sense! "This is way over the line. I can't believe you would do such a thing - and with me just in the other room! How long has this been going on? When were you planning on telling me? Was this how you wanted me to find out?"
Adam rolled his eyes. "Calm down, you've got it all wrong." He closed the kitchen door behind them and then rounded on Rory, pushing his body against the door. Both his hands came up to hold Rory's face in place.
"What are you doing?" asked Rory, intimidated and confused.
"Setting you straight. You aren't married to Amy. I am. You were our best man. We both love and care for you, man, but Amy chose me."
Rory's heart broke. He remembered. He remembered everything! Being too shy to ask Amy out, to even admit that he wanted her in the first place. Adam hadn't been so shy. He'd asked her out, and they'd dated, and then married, and Rory had sat on the sidelines holding his objections in. Finally after the vows he'd gone out and bought himself a wedding ring as an affectation, so that he could pretend that it was him who was married to Amy. It was crazy, but the two of them had indulged him, because they loved him and he'd been their friend forever.
"Oh… God…" he said, slouching against the wooden door, feeling the knob dig into his back. Adam let go of his face and wrapped his arms around him pulling him into a hug.
"It's okay, Rory," he soothed.
"No," said Rory. "No, it isn't. I'm intruding on your marriage. I'm making up lies to myself. I'm being a total creep to Amy." Tears wet his cheeks. The pain of losing Amy hadn't waned in any way since the night he'd found out she was getting married. It was still as raw and horrible as ever.
"We love you, we forgive you," murmured Adam in his ear.
"No," said Rory, pulling out of Adam's embrace. "No, it's not okay." He walked away and put his hands down on the counter to steady himself. "I can't do this anymore, Adam."
"What do you mean?" Adam asked, genuinely concerned.
"I can't play fifth wheel to your marriage. Why am I even living in this apartment? It's insane!"
"Because we are all friends!" said Adam.
"I can't be friends with you," said Rory. "I know I've tried, but I can't." He pulled the wedding ring from his finger and threw it across the floor. "I can't live a lie. I love Amy, more than I can express in words. And I can't watch you with her and not want… It's not fair to anyone."
"Don't be so hasty," said Adam, reaching down and grabbing the ring. "This can work out."
"I'm going," Rory said, flatly.
"What?"
"Going, leaving. I'll find my own place to stay. There isn't any room for me here anyway. I mean, I can't crash on your couch forever, man."
"Stop," said Adam, warningly.
Rory shook his head. He walked out into the hall and opened the flat door. "Don't try and stop me."
Adam reached past Rory and wrestled the knob away from him, shutting the door. "You aren't going anywhere, Rory."
"What is your problem? I'm in love with your wife and you want me here?"
Adam leaned on the door, preventing Rory from reaching for the knob again. "I more than want you, I need you. My life, my very existence depends on you, you love sodden bugger. Goddamn, but the two of you are so stubborn. You get these ideas into your head and it's like trying to chip away at cement." Adam thumped his fists against the door to either side of his hips.
"I don't know what you are talking about, Adam," said Rory. "You aren't making sense."
But Adam was off on his frustrated rant and wasn't even listening. "I tried letting the two of you be married, but you kept pushing me away. You wouldn't let me in, even with all the memories I gave you. Every time I got close, all Amy thought about is how you would react if you saw us together. How it would hurt your feelings. I had to marry her, don't you see, so she would have to care about my feelings for a change."
Most of Adam's words went straight over Rory's head but he caught the last bit. "Is that why you married her? To stroke your own ego? Is she just a trophy for you?" He changed his mind. There was no way he was walking out on Amy now. She needed him.
"Better attitude but still not right, Rory. I need you to stay, but I also need you to be happy with the situation," said Adam.
"Well you can hardly expect me to be that!"
"Hush, I gotta think, Rory," Adam pressed his hand against Rory's mouth. "By marrying Amy, I've driven you away. How do I get you back? How do I get you to let me in?"
Rory struggled and managed to push Adam's hand down. "I have no idea what you are talking about. Now get your hands off of me."
Adam grabbed Rory roughly by the shoulders and pressing him up against the wall. "You let Him in. Why not me? What does he have that I don't, Rory? I can be anything you want me to be. I can be your best friend. Your protector, your mentor, your guide, if you like. I can be your god. So why do you refuse me?"
"Adam, you are hurting me," said Rory. "Let me go."
"Not going to happen."
"What's going on?" said Amy entering the hall. "Adam you better not be hurting Rory or I will never forgive you. Rory is way more fragile than you, and he didn't mean anything by what he said."
"She defends you even now," whispered Adam.
"Can't you two kiss and make up?" she said, pleadingly.
Adam grinned like he'd suddenly solved a tough puzzle. "Brilliant. Yes, we can." And with that he leaned forward and caught Rory's mouth in a hard kiss.
Rory stiffened a second, surprised and horrified. And then he remembered. Adam was his lover. Wait, am I really that gay? They had been a couple ever since that horrible locker room beating when he was fourteen. Adam fought off the bullies and comforted him, and some how during the hugs and soft words their lips had met for the first time. It had felt so amazingly right.
"Well, I didn't mean literally," gasped Amy. Then she appraised the situation. "Though that is surprisingly hot. By all means, continue."
Adam broke off the kiss. Rory breathed hard, his head stuffed full of erotic memories: making out behind the science building, pretending to be studying in Rory's room when they were actually taking it all the way. Rory's eyes widened and his thoughts hopelessly scrambled. He barely noticed Adam reaching out and stroking Amy's back, and the incredulous look waning from her face.
"And I believe you forgot this," said Adam, turning once more to Rory, grabbing his hand and pushing (a bit roughly) the wedding ring back onto his finger. "No need to be jealous. Husband."
Rory looked down at the ring. It felt right but Adams words didn't.
"I married a man?" he asked, utterly shocked with the situation, despite the fact that it was old news. He turned to look at Amy. But I wanted her! Then he remembered. Of course! He'd married Adam and Amy. His two A's. He hadn't been able to choose and neither had they, and they'd spent every day of the last three months in a honeymoon bliss.
"I married both of you!" he nearly shouted in relief. "I am married to you!" he reached out and took Amy's hand.
"Of course. You say it like you are surprised," said Amy, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
"It's the three of us against the world Rory," said Adam, clapping him on the back. "And I'm thinking, maybe this isn't the best place for us to settle down. Too touristy. Too fake. What do you say I find us passage on the next liner out of here and we'll go to some place a bit quieter, quainter. More spacious. Something more like home."
"Oh, but home is boring," objected Amy.
"Home sounds fine," said Rory at the same time.
"A quiet village for home and then we will take vacations. Many vacations!"
Amy nodded. "Okay, I can get behind that."
"It's decided," said Adam with finality, "Now, Rory put way too much work into supper to let it grow cold. Let's stop fooling around and start eating." He put his arm around both of them and drew them deeper into the apartment, looking for all the world like the cat who ate the canary.
TBC
Pairings: Adam/Amy/Rory, 11/Amy/Rory
Rating: PG-13/R
Warnings: Heavy non-con themes, kidnapping, mild violence, off-camera rape, off-camera dub-con, het and slash.
Spoilers: for Torchwood 2x05, Doctor Who season 5.
Summary: Adam (torchwood 2 x 5) will do anything to stay alive, even if it means kidnapping and seducing the Doctor's companions. The Doctor will do anything to keep his companions safe. Rory and Amy become the rope in a tug-of-war between a man who can manipulate their memories and another who simply covets them.
Word Count: 7100
A/N: This hasn't been beta'd or brit-picked. If you see an error please tell me. I estimate this will be about 5 chapters, the first three and part of the fourth have been written.
Chapter 1: Opening moves
Adam existed again. He didn't know where. He didn't know when. But it didn't matter, because he still lived. Everything else could wait.
The woman standing before him was no one Adam had ever seen before. Her golden-brown eyes widened and her mouth gaped open. Her ginger hair shook as she jerked her head in reaction to her personal space being suddenly invaded. This Adam did remember, because it happened every time he popped back into existence. Swifter than the cry of surprise on her lips, he lunged forward and gripped her shoulders with both hands.
He could see himself through her memory. Blond, not too tall, not too burly. An honest, wholesomely handsome face that no one could possibly think harbored malice. A glint of humor, a smidge of cunning, and just a trace of humbleness to bring him back down to earth. He felt her confused outrage mix with attraction, and he used both to bore his way in.
With every fiber of his being he willed himself into her mind, carving his image into her brain so solidly that the poor wretch could probably map the moles on his back.
Relief flooded back. Yes, that was the feeling. That exquisite connection, like a deep breath after drowning. He was anchored firmly into the woman's reality and in no danger of unraveling in the next moment. She could turn her back on him and he'd still be there. He let out a sigh of pleasure and deep satisfaction.
Unfortunately, her reaction was rather different.
"Ex-cuse me?" she said, half offended, half alarmed at being grabbed. Adam shut her mouth by causally disrupting her train of thought. He only had seconds to take control of the situation before the other patrons in this store noticed the assault and rounded their suspicions on him. He was still too fragile to handle that much notice.
Swallowing his panic, Adam turned their connection the other way. A flood of her memories crowded his mind. Amelia Pond - Amy to her friends. She traveled. Excellent, few people to contradict any new memories. She was also naturally gregarious and adventuresome. That part would be more trouble. He preferred it when his anchors were timid homebodies, or paranoid geeks. It was easier to isolate them and focus their all their thoughts and feelings on him. She was married to one man and traveling with another, and rather fiercely devoted to both. Ah-hah. That was where he could write himself in. Two men in her life made adding a third child's play. He was simply another traveling companion.
When he finished, he lifted his hands off her shoulders. Amy blinked, shaking her head like someone startled out of a daydream. Her eyes caught his and the blank expression on her face turned into a glower.
"Oi there, Adam, watch where you're going!" It was exactly the cranky tone she would have used for any close friend. Adam grinned with triumph.
Amy stepped away from him and shrugged her shoulders, as if trying to knock some unpleasant feeling away. After two steps, she spun back on him. "--But since you are here. Would you look at this box I found?" She thrust a wooden box at him. "Do you think the Doctor would like it? He's got a thing for old things… what with being… old…"
Her voice drifted off and she looked puzzled again. Probably trying to remember exactly when he'd come in her life and what he knew of this doctor she was talking about. Adam clicked his tongue. First encounters were always so awkward. He never got everything right on the first try.
He put his hand on her elbow and reestablished the connection. This time he poured in more specific memories. She'd met him two hops back and hit it off immediately. They'd shared a drink and he'd shown her some of the sites. She'd been worried that Rory (the husband) would be jealous, but was surprised and delighted when Rory and he hit it off so well. And then the Doctor had joined them and had found him delightful as well. Ever since they'd been inseparable.
Good enough. She could fill in her own details for now. He let out a sigh.
"Old…" repeated Amy, her eyes sliding out of focus. She pulled her arm away and touched her head. "Ow?"
"Is your headache back?" Adam asked, filling his voice with concern that he didn't remotely feel. The pain would fade soon enough - wouldn't even be remembered. "Why don't we go find some place to sit down?"
Amy shook her head. "I'm fine. Don't be such a worrywart. You are as bad as Rory, I swear." She thrust out the box again so he could inspect it. "What I need from you is your opinion. Should I buy this? For the Doctor?"
Adam looked at the box as if it were a rotting animal. It had been a long time since he'd last seen it. The wood had cracked and bleached over the eons. Here and there a chip had broken away from the intricate carvings along the outside. The inside was another matter. It seemed almost to glow. The wood looked young, rich and smooth, glossy with oil, as though time had never touched it. Fine grains of white sand dusted the bottom. Adam felt a jolt of fear. He remembered when the box was filled to the brim. Now it was practically empty.
Snatching the box from her, he pressed the lid shut before any more grains could escape and twisted his fingers over the carvings to relock it. His heart raced and he felt a cold sweat break out. So close. So… damn… close.
"Oi! Don't have to yank it out my hands!" said Amy with irritation.
"I'm sorry, Amy," he said, contritely. "It just looked so… interesting."
"Is something bothering you, Adam? I've never seen you like this."
"No," he snapped at her. "I'll buy it." He turned his back on her. There was no point in alienating his anchor this soon in their relationship.
For the first time he took some stock of where he was. It appeared to be a curio shop. The shelves around them were loaded up with crap and detritus from the ages. Dusty neuro-interfaces were popped up beside a stack of dinner plates. A shelf of ancient and bedraggled books sat just above another shelf of memory gems. They were somewhere between the twenty-first century and the fifty-first. Probably somewhere in the mid thirties, judging by the implant just below the cashier's ear. Amy's memories were rather vague on the matter as though she weren't entirely sure herself.
He found the register and went through the motions of buying the damn thing. The cashier took the box from him and put it into a slick bag with the shops logo sliding restlessly across the surface. "That will be eighty-six nugen."
Instead of paying with currency he didn't have, Adam caught the cashier's hand and pushed a benign little memory into her head. She nodded and turned away satisfied that she'd been paid in full.
Amy had drifted to his side. When he turned around he found her frowning again. "What, was it free?"
"None of that now," he muttered as he grabbed her elbow and pushed her mind hard. She immediately forgot all about the box.
Damn it. He needed a perceptive anchor even less than a gregarious one. What he wanted was a placid person who didn't question things. But Amy wasn't remotely placid. In fact she seemed rather honed in on his mood. "You seem awfully grumpy today, Adam. I swear, you are going to kill someone with that glare."
Adam schooled his expression. "It's nothing. I guess I have a bit of a headache too."
"Then let's rescue Rory and then we both can raid the Tardis drug cabinet. It's got everything in it, I swear, so make sure you check the labels really closely or we might end up turning polka dots, and won't that be lovely." She grabbed his arm and began pulling. "There he is."
Adam would have rather had more time to sift through Amy's memories and establish their history together before having to deal with someone new, but she was already dragging him towards the corner of the shop. A lanky young man had his back to them as he poked his way through the shelves.
Rory was staring rather bemusedly at a statue of a two-headed alien as they reached his side. "How would this work?" he asked Amy. "Does each head control one side of the body, or does one do all the work and the other just kind of hang out…" His eyes caught Adam. "Oh, hello. Who's this?"
Suspicious. That didn't bode well. Worse it didn't fit in with the memories he'd put in Amy's head. Rory should have been happy to see him. Not alarmed.
Amy laughed. "What do you mean, 'who is this?' you dork."
Rory shook his head, mouth gaping with bafflement. He never had a chance to further express his reservations, because in that moment Adam had his arm and was shoving memories in so hard the young man hissed with agony.
Something clicked. Something wonderful. Something positively amazing. Adam nearly lost hold of the man's mind as realization dawned. Rory wasn't just any ordinary person he was a second anchor! Adam grinned with delight. What incredible luck! In all his past incarnations he'd had to make due with one person for whom his entire existence depended. One soul strong enough to alter reality to include him. One fragile strand, who had to be held close, protected above all others. No matter how much he imbued his existence into friends or coworkers - if this one person died his existence would unraveled to nothing and be forgotten.
But this time he had two. Twin anchors to hold him in place. Such unexpected bounty. So bizarre.
What was it about these two? What made them different? There was something odd about them, all right. Now that he was looking he could see they had a slightly skewed relationship to reality. They were mortal as anyone else in the room, so it wasn't that. Yet somehow they felt more solidly connected to reality, as if the world could end but they'd still somehow exist.
They reminded him of his last anchor. Jack Harkness: horndog extraordinaire and true permanent fixture in the universe. Adam almost moaned remembering the loss. That man had been perfect - Adam could have lived bloody forever had he been able to hold on to him. And his situation couldn't have been more ideal. Jack kept himself practically a hermit except for the company of a handful of equally disaffected geeks. They had money, they lived exciting, rewarding, yet terribly isolated lives. It physically hurt to think of what he briefly had.
Sadly Adam while could invade their memories, he couldn't fool a document trail. They sussed him out in less than a week and turned on him. Even that would have been survivable had Jack's people been stuck with ordinary 21st century technology. But they weren't. They had access to 37th century amnesiac pills. Harkness couldn't die, but he damn well could make himself forget, which in Adam's case, was just as fatal. It wasn't fair!
A sudden snarling anger rose up and he vented this on Rory, who staggered at the memory of a particularly vicious (but entirely fictitious) locker room beating from fourteen years prior.
"Are you okay, Rory?" Amy asked, alarmed.
Shocked into the present, Adam drew back. "Oh, he's fine," he said, looping an arm under Rory's to steady him. He let that painful memory fade. It was too soon to hurt this chap. Rejection was too possible. Adam wasn't going to have another Harkness fiasco.
Rory recovered enough to nod. "Fine." He pulled himself straight. "Maybe we should go back to the Tardis now. The Doctor might be worried about us."
"Oh, pooh. We haven't been gone more than an hour," said Amy dismissively. "And I'm pretty sure this shopping trip was a ruse to get us out of his hair. But as happened," she amended, noticing the way Rory sagged, "Adam and I were headed back anyway. The Doctor can just put up with us."
"Good," said Rory, folding his arms to his chest and shuddering. "I've got the strangest feeling about this place. Something seems somehow… wrong."
"Nothings -" Adam began reassuringly.
"--Oh really, some place the Doctor brings us feels wrong to you?" Amy raised a brow.
"-wrong," finished Adam, a touch annoyed.
"Well, okay," admitted Rory sheepishly. "Grant you, most places the Doctor brings us feel wrong to me… but this place-"
-- And that was enough of that conversation. With a casual hand to the shoulder Adam erased his train of thought.
"Come on, friend," said Adam. "You're safe as houses with me around." He reinforced his words with a string of memories of himself, strong, handsome, dashingly confident, coming to Rory's rescue when bad people had threatened him. Rory admired Adam, and felt grateful and secure to have him at his back.
There, thought Adam with satisfaction. That would keep the skinny man's "bad feelings" in line for a while. Later, in private, he'd had to work on that sensitivity more thoroughly. Two anchors sounded lovely, but it looked like both were problematic.
Habit had him taking the lead, but Amy grabbed his sleeve not three steps out the door of the shop. "Wrong way, silly." He ground his teeth for a moment, then put on his most charmingly hapless expression and held out an arm deferring to her.
Amy then lead them through the crowded faux-cobbled streets of old-town New Boston, past the fruit vendors and wooden kiosks where hawkers sold junk. Adam was largely distracted by the smells and sights - both so refreshing! So decadently lively! -- he hardly bothered either of his anchors, trusting that they'd take him somewhere reasonably private where he could finally take the time to do them right.
After about five minutes of crowd pushing, they arrived at an unpromising ally little wider than his spread arms. And at the very back of this plain, utilitarian passageway, was something that stood out even among all the fake olde-timey trappings of touristy New Boston: a blue police call box of the sort that had only existed on Earth for less than a century and never in any sort of abundance.
There it was. The Tardis. Oh, crap. The Tardis. The Doctor. That Doctor.
Adam stopped in his tracks and grabbed both Amy and Rory to prevent them from going any further.
"What is it?" asked Rory
"You look like you've never seen the Tardis before!" remarked Amy.
Amy's doctor was that Doctor. Jack Harkness had been obsessed with that Doctor. Adam remembered being heartily glad back then that the Time Lord wasn't likely to pop in. And here that Doctor was, just one incarnation later, a current feature in his anchors' lives.
Oh, this was bad. Very, very bad. He was in no way ready to confront an actual Time Lord. Maybe later once he was better established and grounded, but not now. Not this soon. Not with both his lifelines at his side.
"Ouch!" said Amy, trying pull away from his tightening grip.
"Stop it!" Rory ordered, whether in reaction to Amy or because he didn't much like being held himself, Adam didn't know. He also didn't care. He was too busy locking away all their memories of the Tardis and the Doctor, and if it meant putting a couple of bruises on their skin, so be it.
"Damn it, Adam, what has gotten in to you today?" Amy said. "This isn't you at all!" She yanked her wrist out of his hand. Rory did the same, rubbing his skin with a look of resentment on his face.
"Why are you so scared?" Rory asked. "You're never scared!"
"Nothing," said Adam, "Thought I saw a mugger."
"Well there is nothing down this ally but us," said Amy. "Well, us and that thing." She pointed offhandedly to the Tardis. "Whatever the hell that is."
Adam relaxed. "You are right. As always. I'm just being a dork. Let's go."
"You know you are," said Amy, succumbing to his charm once more. But then, quite unexpectedly, she turned and walked straight for the Tardis.
Something nagged at Amy's mind. Something important. She took a few steps down the empty ally way, staring at the blue booth at the end. It seemed hauntingly familiar to her. Like a half forgotten fairy tale. As if … but no she couldn't remember.
"Come on, Amy," Adam was saying. "Nothing to see here."
"Is that a police box?" Amy asked. "In New Boston?"
"Sure is," said Adam, "All kinds of vintage stuff around here, just like I told you." He put a companionable hand on her elbow and tried to steer her around so she faced back out of the ally. Amy resisted, completing the spin so that she once more faced the police box. She hated when her men got pushy with her.
"Strange," remarked Rory at her back. "Do you think it's authentic or a reconstruction? What do you think is inside?"
"Nothing at all, I'm sure." Adam replied. "It's just set dressing for the tourists, guys. The door is probably fake." Adam's pull on Amy increased. "Come on, I'm famished and Rory promised to cook us dinner."
"I did?" Rory said, genuinely surprised. "Oh, yes, I guess I did. We'll have to get the ingredients."
"And find a flat to cook them in," joked Adam. "Come on, this way." He let her go and started to walk off.
Amy held back. It was like an itch. The moment Adam was safely a few steps away, she dashed back to the end of the alley. She had to touch the box. Her hand caressed the side and found it oddly warm and welcoming. She'd have tried the door handle if Adam weren't suddenly hanging off her neck like thirteen-stone albatross. He was all but dragging her away.
"Come on, Amy, we don't have time! We can come back and look at it later."
Amy relented and let herself be pulled back out of the ally. Adam was definitely in one of his touchy moods today. Both emotionally and physically. If it was anyone else, she would have slapped his face, but with Adam, it was just what she'd come to expect. In a way it was nice he had a few social faults, she reminded herself, or else he'd be utterly insufferable.
He led them back back to the gantlet of vendors. The open air market was alive with noise and the heady smell of food and Amy found herself quickly distracted.
"Here," Adam said snagging a cloth grocery bag from a rack. "Hold this," he shoved it in Rory's arms. He then proceeded to load the bag up with this and that: Cheese, fruit, bread, wine, moving from kiosk to kiosk like he owned the place.
"Aren't we going to pay?" Amy asked, noticing that more than one of the vendors were staring at them with unfriendly expressions. Rory looked as if he wondered much the same but had been too polite to mention it.
"It's on our tab," said Adam. "They all know me here." He clapped one glowering vendor on the back and waved at another. "We always pay our bills."
Amy relaxed. It was true. Adam was always scrupulous about paying. He also tipped generously and sometimes lent a hand when things got busy. The merchants loved him. Adam clapped another vendor on the back, and the man thanked him.
That was Adam. Everyone loved him. Including Amy, though she wished at times she didn't. As flattering as it was that Adam chose to hang around her and Rory, she always felt just a bit daunted by the sheer power of his charm. It made her look positively drab and dull in comparison, and poor Rory was even worse off. He'd never be half the man Adam was. Somehow that just made Rory all the more lovable.
"And now home," said Adam, loading poor Rory down with yet another bag. The poor sap was staggering a little at this point, but he gave Amy a brave nod to show he wasn't bothered by the fact that he was carrying everything save for the bag from the curio shop. Out of pity, Amy took one of the grocery bags and groaned under its weight. The two then followed Adam as he meandered down the side streets.
And meandered… and meandered…
It began to seem like Adam had totally forgotten where they lived, but Amy kept her mouth shut because she was rather vague herself on the directions. It seemed to her that they'd moved in quite recently after traveling around for months. She finally spoke up when she recognized that they'd looped around. "Perhaps it's off that way," she pointed to a street they hadn't gone up yet.
"I think you are right." Adam wasn't nearly as cheerful as he'd been earlier. He was looking downright frustrated in fact, as if he weren't completely sure what he was doing.
Must be the headache, she thought. Her own head had settled to a dull but repetitive throb. She was more than ready to sit down. Rory looked pale and sweaty from exertion and the late afternoon heat.
Adam suddenly perked up. "You are a genius!" he said to her, clapping her back, then Rory's. Sure enough one of the neat little red-brick row houses had a little placard in the window saying "To Let." It was their house, though really, someone should have thought to take down the sign.
"I don't have my keys," said Rory.
Amy felt a flash of surprise. "Neither do I!" Then suddenly she frowned and remembered. "Oh wait, is this it?" She pulled the necklace out of her bodice and looked at the key at the end of it.
"No," said Adam sharply. "Don't worry, you two stay here, I'll get the key." He raced up the steps and knocked at the door. When at last a little old lady looked out and opened up, Adam shook her hand and then spoke quickly and quietly to her. Then he gestured to them.
"It's just up the stairs guys." Amy followed him into the house. The little old lady smiled at them as they climbed the stairs up to a small but furnished one bedroom apartment.
"Bit tight for the three of us," Rory remarked under his breath.
"Oh," said Adam, "I know, but it's only for now. Once we get jobs we can find a bigger place. You two get the bedroom of course. I'll take the couch as always."
Amy dropped her grocery bag in the kitchen and looked around. It was odd. She knew she'd been there several days, but it was as if she'd never seen the place before. The décor was not at all what she would have chosen. That bit was bothersome the way that police box in the ally had been bothersome. She had a surreal sense of being an invader in her own home.
She wandered through the other rooms. Rather than finding it reassuring, the sense of alienness grew. "You'd think I'd have a picture or two hung up," she muttered to herself as she walked down the short hall. In the bedroom she put her hand on the quaint looking four poster. "These sheets are awful," she remarked. They were dark brownish-mauve, and looked like it had been washed with a dirty aubergine. Amy hated the color. The paintings on the walls had a mass produced look. There wasn't a single knick-knack or token on the vanity. She looked in the wardrobe and the chest of drawers but both were empty.
Where is all our stuff?
"How's my girl," said Adam from the doorway. He gazed on her warmly, as though just seeing her made him happy. Flattering. Wrong, but flattering. Rory was already well aware of his lacking when it came to being compared to Adam, he didn't need her encouraging his insecurity.
"Where's Rory?" Amy asked, cutting off the inappropriate feelings.
"In the kitchen, getting started on supper," said Adam. He was putting the charm on full tilt now, the cheeky bastard. "How about the two of us sit on the bed and talk a little."
Amy laughed uncomfortably. "I don't think so. You lost your chance for that when I said 'I do' to Rory."
Adam raised his hands in surrender and looked innocent. "I didn't say I'd do anything."
"You didn't promise you wouldn't either," said Amy feeling very uncomfortable. "Back off, Adam, stop flirting. I mean it. I'm married, and you know how Rory is. And don't go all pouty on me either. I know that trick."
Adam rolled his eyes.
"Now out of my way, I'm going to help Rory in the kitchen." Amy strode forward expecting to slide past Adam the way she always had, but something about his attitude bothered her. She knew he was going to touch her as he passed, and damn it, she was getting seriously tired of him touching her all the time. Touch, touch, touch, touch. So she stopped short of him and shooed her arms. "Well? Out of my way! Go back to the living room."
Adam looked genuinely shocked, but then he backed out of the doorway and gave her room to pass.
Amy fled to the kitchen. Well, not so much fled as swiftly and determinedly walked, because being afraid of silly old Adam would be too absurd to even admit to herself. She found Rory meticulously chopping carrots and parsnips into cubes and settled herself into the corner next to him with a deep sigh of relief.
"It's a good thing we went shopping," he said. "There wasn't a thing in the refrigerator. Absolutely bare."
"Rory," said Amy, in that way that caught his attention entirely. "Do you ever have days when you just feel something is off. I mean, really, really off."
"Yes," said Rory putting down the knife. "I don't remember this apartment, Amy. I know we've been here a couple days, but I can't find any sign that we have. I don't know where anything is. Things we should have, we don't. Like the sauce pot I need to do this dish properly."
"Yes," said Amy, relieved. She wasn't going mad after all. "It's like we brought nothing. And I know that we left with the Doctor on the fly, but you'd think that we'd have the foresight to bring a change of undies."
Rory's eyes widened. "Wait a second -- we left with who?"
"Adam," Amy said a little uncertainly. "We left with Adam. That's what I said."
"No, you didn't. You said Doctor."
They stared into each other's eyes. "The Doctor," they said at the same time.
"How could we have forgotten him?" asked Amy. "I mean, yes, I know we forgot him before, but the universe ended that time so I think we had an excuse."
"It makes no sense," said Rory. "The Tardis. We were looking right at it earlier today. Why didn't we recognize it?"
"-And how are my favorite couple doing?" asked Adam, in the most conversation stopping voice ever. They both jumped and looked at him with fear. "Stubbornly clinging to the past, I see. Looks like I need to divide and conquer."
Rory grabbed the knife off the cutting board and put himself between Adam and Amy. "You stay away from her." He waved the weapon with determination.
"None of that, now," said Adam grimly, dodging Rory's blade and grabbing his upper arm. "Back to work with you. Amy's hungry."
Rory lowered his knife and then… laughed. "Ah, your right. Enough clowning around for one evening, this will never get done if you keep bothering me. Out of the kitchen, both of you."
"What?" Amy stared at Rory, who had returned to chopping as if their last conversation had never happened. "What did you just do to him?" Amy accused Adam.
Adam shook his head once and then lunged at her. She scrambled away. "Rory!" she called out, but he seemed focused on his damn carrots. "For god's sake Rory, snap out of it. Run and get the Doctor!" Adam stepped closer once more, a smile plastered on his face. She tried to skirt past him, but he blocked her path, once, twice, then hemmed her into the corner.
She was caught. Amy winced as his hand pressed against her cheek. No, no, no, no…. Then she let out a peel of laughter.
"Blimey, I haven't played tag since I was a kid," she said, gripping the counter and breathing hard.
"Well you two can stop playing it in my kitchen, if you please," groused Rory. "I am trying to cook here. And I'm armed." He waved the knife in their direction, "Someone could get cut."
Adam put his arm around her shoulders. "Let's give the man some room. Besides, I have something I really need to confer with you about, let's go to the couch."
"I… suppose," she let him take her hand and pull her out of the kitchen.
Amy was surprised at how much she didn't want to hear what Adam had to say to her, but for the life of her she couldn't rationalize it. Why was she so nervous of the man all of a sudden? They'd been together since childhood. He was her best friend. Her confidante. The best man at their wedding. Hell, she trusted Adam more than she even did Rory when it came to watching her back. Her mind flooded with memories of Rory cowering back while Adam saved them from those revolting vampire-aliens. Adam had been the only one able to drive off the evil Angels. Why did she feel so threatened to be around him now?
As soon as they were in the living room and the kitchen door was shut, she felt a surge of terror at being alone with him. She stared into Adam's eyes looking for reassurance, but the only thing she saw was something strange and predatory.
Rory wiped the sweat from his forehead with an oven mit, "It's ready!" he called out through the door to Amy and Adam in the other room. "Could you help set the table?"
There was no reply.
Figures, he thought to himself. Lazy louts pretending they couldn't hear him to shirk their part of the work. Well if you want something done…. He opened a cupboard and pulled three rather plain tin plates, then gathered up some cheap cutlery from a drawer. He opened the kitchen door with his shoulder and headed to the dining table.
Murmuring came from his side and he turned. "Hey, a little help here?"
He stopped. Words dried up on his mouth and he stared as first comprehension then horror crowded his mind.
Amy and Adam were on the couch together, she cuddled up into a ball, him leaning over her with his arm around her shoulder. Their faces were centimeters from each other, then they closed in and they kissed.
Adam was kissing his wife. Rory dropped the flatware and plates on the table and rounded on them, fists balled.
"Oi, hey!" he found himself shouting. "What's going on here?" The two broke apart and stared at him. Amy looked positively shocked at his reaction. Adam had the utmost gall to be annoyed. "Amy? What is this? I cook the two of you dinner and you cheat on me?"
"What are you talking about, Rory?" Amy exclaimed. "I've a right to kiss my husband, and you volunteered to cook tonight!"
"I - your what?" Rory's mouth dropped, and he lost the ability to talk for a second. Finding his tongue a moment later he managed to say, "I'm your husband. You married me!"
"I did not!" exclaimed Amy. But the look in her eyes shifted from outrage to horror. Adam touched her shoulder and it shifted back to outrage again. "I don't know what you are going on about, Rory. If you wanted me to marry you, I wish you would have mentioned it before I said 'yes' to Adam."
"But I am your husband." He looked down at his hands and saw the ring on his finger. "Look! See, I'm wearing a wedding ring, and Adam isn't."
"You are wearing a wedding ring because you like to pretend that Amy is your wife," said Adam. "I don't wear one because I know she is and I don't have to."
"That's complete bollocks!" He looked from Adam to Amy and back. "How can you believe this, Amy?"
Amy just shook her head as though she had no idea what to think. Adam kissed her briefly on the cheek. "Give us a moment, love," he murmured.
"O-okay," said Amy seeming a bit lost in her own thoughts.
"In the kitchen," Adam ordered Rory.
Rory tightened his hands into fists. "I know that you and I have been friends forever, but this is over the line," he said as he followed Adam. His voice wavered with grief and horror. Amy … how could the two of them betray him like this? It made no sense! "This is way over the line. I can't believe you would do such a thing - and with me just in the other room! How long has this been going on? When were you planning on telling me? Was this how you wanted me to find out?"
Adam rolled his eyes. "Calm down, you've got it all wrong." He closed the kitchen door behind them and then rounded on Rory, pushing his body against the door. Both his hands came up to hold Rory's face in place.
"What are you doing?" asked Rory, intimidated and confused.
"Setting you straight. You aren't married to Amy. I am. You were our best man. We both love and care for you, man, but Amy chose me."
Rory's heart broke. He remembered. He remembered everything! Being too shy to ask Amy out, to even admit that he wanted her in the first place. Adam hadn't been so shy. He'd asked her out, and they'd dated, and then married, and Rory had sat on the sidelines holding his objections in. Finally after the vows he'd gone out and bought himself a wedding ring as an affectation, so that he could pretend that it was him who was married to Amy. It was crazy, but the two of them had indulged him, because they loved him and he'd been their friend forever.
"Oh… God…" he said, slouching against the wooden door, feeling the knob dig into his back. Adam let go of his face and wrapped his arms around him pulling him into a hug.
"It's okay, Rory," he soothed.
"No," said Rory. "No, it isn't. I'm intruding on your marriage. I'm making up lies to myself. I'm being a total creep to Amy." Tears wet his cheeks. The pain of losing Amy hadn't waned in any way since the night he'd found out she was getting married. It was still as raw and horrible as ever.
"We love you, we forgive you," murmured Adam in his ear.
"No," said Rory, pulling out of Adam's embrace. "No, it's not okay." He walked away and put his hands down on the counter to steady himself. "I can't do this anymore, Adam."
"What do you mean?" Adam asked, genuinely concerned.
"I can't play fifth wheel to your marriage. Why am I even living in this apartment? It's insane!"
"Because we are all friends!" said Adam.
"I can't be friends with you," said Rory. "I know I've tried, but I can't." He pulled the wedding ring from his finger and threw it across the floor. "I can't live a lie. I love Amy, more than I can express in words. And I can't watch you with her and not want… It's not fair to anyone."
"Don't be so hasty," said Adam, reaching down and grabbing the ring. "This can work out."
"I'm going," Rory said, flatly.
"What?"
"Going, leaving. I'll find my own place to stay. There isn't any room for me here anyway. I mean, I can't crash on your couch forever, man."
"Stop," said Adam, warningly.
Rory shook his head. He walked out into the hall and opened the flat door. "Don't try and stop me."
Adam reached past Rory and wrestled the knob away from him, shutting the door. "You aren't going anywhere, Rory."
"What is your problem? I'm in love with your wife and you want me here?"
Adam leaned on the door, preventing Rory from reaching for the knob again. "I more than want you, I need you. My life, my very existence depends on you, you love sodden bugger. Goddamn, but the two of you are so stubborn. You get these ideas into your head and it's like trying to chip away at cement." Adam thumped his fists against the door to either side of his hips.
"I don't know what you are talking about, Adam," said Rory. "You aren't making sense."
But Adam was off on his frustrated rant and wasn't even listening. "I tried letting the two of you be married, but you kept pushing me away. You wouldn't let me in, even with all the memories I gave you. Every time I got close, all Amy thought about is how you would react if you saw us together. How it would hurt your feelings. I had to marry her, don't you see, so she would have to care about my feelings for a change."
Most of Adam's words went straight over Rory's head but he caught the last bit. "Is that why you married her? To stroke your own ego? Is she just a trophy for you?" He changed his mind. There was no way he was walking out on Amy now. She needed him.
"Better attitude but still not right, Rory. I need you to stay, but I also need you to be happy with the situation," said Adam.
"Well you can hardly expect me to be that!"
"Hush, I gotta think, Rory," Adam pressed his hand against Rory's mouth. "By marrying Amy, I've driven you away. How do I get you back? How do I get you to let me in?"
Rory struggled and managed to push Adam's hand down. "I have no idea what you are talking about. Now get your hands off of me."
Adam grabbed Rory roughly by the shoulders and pressing him up against the wall. "You let Him in. Why not me? What does he have that I don't, Rory? I can be anything you want me to be. I can be your best friend. Your protector, your mentor, your guide, if you like. I can be your god. So why do you refuse me?"
"Adam, you are hurting me," said Rory. "Let me go."
"Not going to happen."
"What's going on?" said Amy entering the hall. "Adam you better not be hurting Rory or I will never forgive you. Rory is way more fragile than you, and he didn't mean anything by what he said."
"She defends you even now," whispered Adam.
"Can't you two kiss and make up?" she said, pleadingly.
Adam grinned like he'd suddenly solved a tough puzzle. "Brilliant. Yes, we can." And with that he leaned forward and caught Rory's mouth in a hard kiss.
Rory stiffened a second, surprised and horrified. And then he remembered. Adam was his lover. Wait, am I really that gay? They had been a couple ever since that horrible locker room beating when he was fourteen. Adam fought off the bullies and comforted him, and some how during the hugs and soft words their lips had met for the first time. It had felt so amazingly right.
"Well, I didn't mean literally," gasped Amy. Then she appraised the situation. "Though that is surprisingly hot. By all means, continue."
Adam broke off the kiss. Rory breathed hard, his head stuffed full of erotic memories: making out behind the science building, pretending to be studying in Rory's room when they were actually taking it all the way. Rory's eyes widened and his thoughts hopelessly scrambled. He barely noticed Adam reaching out and stroking Amy's back, and the incredulous look waning from her face.
"And I believe you forgot this," said Adam, turning once more to Rory, grabbing his hand and pushing (a bit roughly) the wedding ring back onto his finger. "No need to be jealous. Husband."
Rory looked down at the ring. It felt right but Adams words didn't.
"I married a man?" he asked, utterly shocked with the situation, despite the fact that it was old news. He turned to look at Amy. But I wanted her! Then he remembered. Of course! He'd married Adam and Amy. His two A's. He hadn't been able to choose and neither had they, and they'd spent every day of the last three months in a honeymoon bliss.
"I married both of you!" he nearly shouted in relief. "I am married to you!" he reached out and took Amy's hand.
"Of course. You say it like you are surprised," said Amy, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
"It's the three of us against the world Rory," said Adam, clapping him on the back. "And I'm thinking, maybe this isn't the best place for us to settle down. Too touristy. Too fake. What do you say I find us passage on the next liner out of here and we'll go to some place a bit quieter, quainter. More spacious. Something more like home."
"Oh, but home is boring," objected Amy.
"Home sounds fine," said Rory at the same time.
"A quiet village for home and then we will take vacations. Many vacations!"
Amy nodded. "Okay, I can get behind that."
"It's decided," said Adam with finality, "Now, Rory put way too much work into supper to let it grow cold. Let's stop fooling around and start eating." He put his arm around both of them and drew them deeper into the apartment, looking for all the world like the cat who ate the canary.
TBC