"Why don't I get one?" Rory snaps. It's closer to a whine but Amy doesn't say anything, just tries to hide her smile.
"Because he's my best friend, and you're, well, my idiot."
"Thanks," he deadpans. "Thanks a lot."
"My idiot husband," she adds, kisses him on the cheek before skipping towards the TARDIS console to peek over the Doctor's shoulder. She's tapping a steady rhythm on chrome and the strings and beads shimmer silver and gold and all sorts of spectral colours. Rory blinks, thinks it might be in his head. Then again, it might not.
The Doctor's entering coordinates, punching buttons and following grids with his eyes; a matching bracelet glitters on his wrist and Rory rolls his eyes.
"Amy," says the Doctor. "Is everything okay with Rory?" Rory, of course, is still within earshot, and is, of course, being talked over like he very much isn't.
"He's just upset because he didn't get a pretty bracelet. I tried to explain that they're for best friends. It didn't seem to work."
"You should make him a husband bracelet!"
Amy laughs out loud at that then calls out, "Hey, Rory, do you want a husband bracelet?"
Rory's about to say that yes, that might actually be kind of nice, when she preemptively says to the Doctor, "Maybe if you give me some more of your crazy string from that Plutonian moon, I'll consider."
"Oh certainly, I'll dig around. They turned out rather pretty, didn't they? Thank you, by the way. I shall keep it forever." He gives her a one-armed hug, even if his attention is still on the ship, frown set at the monitors.
(Apparently, the TARDIS is misbehaving today and the Doctor's given it--her?--countless, ridiculous taunts, all, naughty, but uncalled for, and, don't make me discipline you.)
"Forever and ever?" Amy asks.
He gives her his full attention then, (looks at her like she might be that little girl he first met) and smiles a smile that reaches his eyes and all the lines in his face. "Forever and ever, of course."
*
Rory's tinkering with some sort of model when Amy sidles next to him. It's like a star chart but in 3-D, like a globe of beads held together by wiry string. It's a lot like the string Amy was tweaking and fiddling with a few nights ago. He wonders what else the Doctor's got stocked up in here. On second thought, no, he doesn't.
"What colour would you like, you silly man?"
"Actually," he says, "I think I'm good."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Though they are rather pretty." At which, she beams up at him and Rory thinks, you are so many kinds of beautiful, and that if anyone deserves to have their craftsmanship and friendship remain intact through time and space, come as close as it can to being immortal, it has to be her.
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timeasmymeasure
space string - pg - amy+eleven; amy/rory
Date: 2011-06-21 11:20 pm (UTC)-
"Why don't I get one?" Rory snaps. It's closer to a whine but Amy doesn't say anything, just tries to hide her smile.
"Because he's my best friend, and you're, well, my idiot."
"Thanks," he deadpans. "Thanks a lot."
"My idiot husband," she adds, kisses him on the cheek before skipping towards the TARDIS console to peek over the Doctor's shoulder. She's tapping a steady rhythm on chrome and the strings and beads shimmer silver and gold and all sorts of spectral colours. Rory blinks, thinks it might be in his head. Then again, it might not.
The Doctor's entering coordinates, punching buttons and following grids with his eyes; a matching bracelet glitters on his wrist and Rory rolls his eyes.
"Amy," says the Doctor. "Is everything okay with Rory?" Rory, of course, is still within earshot, and is, of course, being talked over like he very much isn't.
"He's just upset because he didn't get a pretty bracelet. I tried to explain that they're for best friends. It didn't seem to work."
"You should make him a husband bracelet!"
Amy laughs out loud at that then calls out, "Hey, Rory, do you want a husband bracelet?"
Rory's about to say that yes, that might actually be kind of nice, when she preemptively says to the Doctor, "Maybe if you give me some more of your crazy string from that Plutonian moon, I'll consider."
"Oh certainly, I'll dig around. They turned out rather pretty, didn't they? Thank you, by the way. I shall keep it forever." He gives her a one-armed hug, even if his attention is still on the ship, frown set at the monitors.
(Apparently, the TARDIS is misbehaving today and the Doctor's given it--her?--countless, ridiculous taunts, all, naughty, but uncalled for, and, don't make me discipline you.)
"Forever and ever?" Amy asks.
He gives her his full attention then, (looks at her like she might be that little girl he first met) and smiles a smile that reaches his eyes and all the lines in his face. "Forever and ever, of course."
*
Rory's tinkering with some sort of model when Amy sidles next to him. It's like a star chart but in 3-D, like a globe of beads held together by wiry string. It's a lot like the string Amy was tweaking and fiddling with a few nights ago. He wonders what else the Doctor's got stocked up in here. On second thought, no, he doesn't.
"What colour would you like, you silly man?"
"Actually," he says, "I think I'm good."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Though they are rather pretty." At which, she beams up at him and Rory thinks, you are so many kinds of beautiful, and that if anyone deserves to have their craftsmanship and friendship remain intact through time and space, come as close as it can to being immortal, it has to be her.
Besides, he gets to keep the ring.