Doctor Who: Three Parallels
Title: Three Parallels
Author: arliddian
Rating: T/PG-13
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters/Pairing: Amy/Rory
Summary: One time Amy woke up late, in three different universes.
Word Count: 961
Author's Note: Prompt - Rouse. This is my first foray into the DW fandom and I'm a little nervous about it, so I'd really appreciate your comments and reviews!
Warnings: Suggestions of adult themes (it's Amy!) but nothing explicit.
Disclaimer: Don't own it; don't sue me.
One
"Amy!"
The sound of her name jolts her awake, and she groans, determinedly squeezing her eyes shut.
"Amy?" Rory's voice pierces her attempts at sleep. "Are you up yet?" She can hear the stairs creaking under him as he makes his way up to her bedroom.
She groans again and pulls the pillow over her head as he walks in and sits on the bed beside her. "Leave me alone, I had to work late last night," she tells him, voice muffled through the pillow.
"Ah." She can practically hear the discomfort in his voice. He's never liked hearing about her exploits at work, and he especially dislikes it now that they are properly, officially, together. "What was it this time?"
"Nurse." She whips her pillow off her head and throws it at him. "They loved it. Paid me to stay an extra hour."
He catches it and hugs it to his chest, saying "Ah" again, and she can tell that now he's really uncomfortable. She is suddenly overcome by a rush of affection for him. There is something comforting in the way he always looks at her - not full of desire like the (mostly) drunken boys she is paid to kiss, but full of nervous wonder and tenderness and love. And right now, while they're alone in the house (Aunt Sharon's out somewhere again), she wants to reassure him again that she's happy to be with him. After all the people who have left, he stays.
Before she can say anything, he abruptly changes the subject. "Are you going to get up now? Jeff's birthday party's in twenty minutes."
She pouts at him, looking up through her lashes in an expression that she knows he has trouble resisting. "Do I have to?"
Unfortunately, Rory is looking at his watch and is therefore not distractable. "Er, yeah, we should be leaving now."
It's clear to her that she's not going to get his attention this way. "Fine," she sighs, and then she slips out of bed and pulls her nightie over her head.
That distracts him.
"A-Amy, what are you doing?" he stammers. It's clear from the way he's staring at her but trying not to stare at her that he's losing the battle with his sense of propriety.
"Getting changed," she replies innocently, adjusting the strap of her bra. "Unless you can think of something better to do..." she continues in a more suggestive tone, sitting next to him on the bed and walking her fingers up his chest.
"Er," he mumbles, eyes fixed on her lips and she leans in closer. "Um."
She kisses him. And just like that, they're late to the party.
Two
She's jolted awake suddenly, but the house is quiet (Aunt Sharon is out somewhere again) and she lies in bed with her eyes shut, trying to figure out why she woke up.
There's the strange feeling that something is meant to happen now, that she woke up for some reason, but she can't figure out what.
There's Jeff's party, but that's not it. The party isn't for twenty minutes anyway, and she worked late last night and the comfort of her bed is too inviting to think about getting up and getting dressed. There is something comforting (but sad, a voice whispers in her mind) about being alone after an evening of being ogled by (mostly) drunken boys.
She drifts back to sleep for another half an hour. And just like that, she's late to the party.
Three
"Amy!"
The sound of her name jolts her awake, and she groans, determinedly squeezing her eyes shut.
"Amy?" Her mother's voice pierces her attempts at sleep. "Are you up yet? Rory's here!"
She lies in bed for a moment, listening to the familiar tenor of Rory's voice, followed by the sounds of her mother bustling around in the kitchen and her father laughing heartily at something on TV. It's all very pleasant and domestic, and she smiles as she throws on some clothes and runs down the stairs and into the kitchen, only pausing to poke her head into her dad's study and say hello.
"Ah, there you are," her mother says when she enters the kitchen. "Rory's just been telling me about his night shifts! Really tough work, you know."
Rory immediately stands up from his seat at the kitchen table like he's an old-fashioned gentleman, and Amy wanders over to him and rests her head on his shoulder. She's still sleepy, having been out late at a party (not working as a kissogram; her parents had put a stop to that very quickly), and she would much prefer to crawl back into bed and maybe take Rory with her, but her parents are home and Jeff's birthday party is in twenty minutes.
As if he had read her mind, Rory checks his watch. "It's been really great talking to you, Mrs Pond, but we really should get going," he says, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Oh, nonsense, you have time for a cup of tea, don't you?" Amy's mother doesn't even wait for a response; she just turns around and starts filling the teapot.
Amy rolls her eyes at Rory with a smile, mouthing Sorry. But he just shrugs and smiles back with an expression he reserves just for her, full of nervous wonder and tenderness and love. And she is overcome with affection for him, and the feeling that she should tell him what he means to her, this boy who stays by her side through everything.
Instead, she glances around quickly. And just before her mother turns around with the cups she reaches up and kisses him on the mouth.
And just like that, they're late to the party.
Fin
Author: arliddian
Rating: T/PG-13
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters/Pairing: Amy/Rory
Summary: One time Amy woke up late, in three different universes.
Word Count: 961
Author's Note: Prompt - Rouse. This is my first foray into the DW fandom and I'm a little nervous about it, so I'd really appreciate your comments and reviews!
Warnings: Suggestions of adult themes (it's Amy!) but nothing explicit.
Disclaimer: Don't own it; don't sue me.
One
"Amy!"
The sound of her name jolts her awake, and she groans, determinedly squeezing her eyes shut.
"Amy?" Rory's voice pierces her attempts at sleep. "Are you up yet?" She can hear the stairs creaking under him as he makes his way up to her bedroom.
She groans again and pulls the pillow over her head as he walks in and sits on the bed beside her. "Leave me alone, I had to work late last night," she tells him, voice muffled through the pillow.
"Ah." She can practically hear the discomfort in his voice. He's never liked hearing about her exploits at work, and he especially dislikes it now that they are properly, officially, together. "What was it this time?"
"Nurse." She whips her pillow off her head and throws it at him. "They loved it. Paid me to stay an extra hour."
He catches it and hugs it to his chest, saying "Ah" again, and she can tell that now he's really uncomfortable. She is suddenly overcome by a rush of affection for him. There is something comforting in the way he always looks at her - not full of desire like the (mostly) drunken boys she is paid to kiss, but full of nervous wonder and tenderness and love. And right now, while they're alone in the house (Aunt Sharon's out somewhere again), she wants to reassure him again that she's happy to be with him. After all the people who have left, he stays.
Before she can say anything, he abruptly changes the subject. "Are you going to get up now? Jeff's birthday party's in twenty minutes."
She pouts at him, looking up through her lashes in an expression that she knows he has trouble resisting. "Do I have to?"
Unfortunately, Rory is looking at his watch and is therefore not distractable. "Er, yeah, we should be leaving now."
It's clear to her that she's not going to get his attention this way. "Fine," she sighs, and then she slips out of bed and pulls her nightie over her head.
That distracts him.
"A-Amy, what are you doing?" he stammers. It's clear from the way he's staring at her but trying not to stare at her that he's losing the battle with his sense of propriety.
"Getting changed," she replies innocently, adjusting the strap of her bra. "Unless you can think of something better to do..." she continues in a more suggestive tone, sitting next to him on the bed and walking her fingers up his chest.
"Er," he mumbles, eyes fixed on her lips and she leans in closer. "Um."
She kisses him. And just like that, they're late to the party.
Two
She's jolted awake suddenly, but the house is quiet (Aunt Sharon is out somewhere again) and she lies in bed with her eyes shut, trying to figure out why she woke up.
There's the strange feeling that something is meant to happen now, that she woke up for some reason, but she can't figure out what.
There's Jeff's party, but that's not it. The party isn't for twenty minutes anyway, and she worked late last night and the comfort of her bed is too inviting to think about getting up and getting dressed. There is something comforting (but sad, a voice whispers in her mind) about being alone after an evening of being ogled by (mostly) drunken boys.
She drifts back to sleep for another half an hour. And just like that, she's late to the party.
Three
"Amy!"
The sound of her name jolts her awake, and she groans, determinedly squeezing her eyes shut.
"Amy?" Her mother's voice pierces her attempts at sleep. "Are you up yet? Rory's here!"
She lies in bed for a moment, listening to the familiar tenor of Rory's voice, followed by the sounds of her mother bustling around in the kitchen and her father laughing heartily at something on TV. It's all very pleasant and domestic, and she smiles as she throws on some clothes and runs down the stairs and into the kitchen, only pausing to poke her head into her dad's study and say hello.
"Ah, there you are," her mother says when she enters the kitchen. "Rory's just been telling me about his night shifts! Really tough work, you know."
Rory immediately stands up from his seat at the kitchen table like he's an old-fashioned gentleman, and Amy wanders over to him and rests her head on his shoulder. She's still sleepy, having been out late at a party (not working as a kissogram; her parents had put a stop to that very quickly), and she would much prefer to crawl back into bed and maybe take Rory with her, but her parents are home and Jeff's birthday party is in twenty minutes.
As if he had read her mind, Rory checks his watch. "It's been really great talking to you, Mrs Pond, but we really should get going," he says, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Oh, nonsense, you have time for a cup of tea, don't you?" Amy's mother doesn't even wait for a response; she just turns around and starts filling the teapot.
Amy rolls her eyes at Rory with a smile, mouthing Sorry. But he just shrugs and smiles back with an expression he reserves just for her, full of nervous wonder and tenderness and love. And she is overcome with affection for him, and the feeling that she should tell him what he means to her, this boy who stays by her side through everything.
Instead, she glances around quickly. And just before her mother turns around with the cups she reaches up and kisses him on the mouth.
And just like that, they're late to the party.
Fin