Amy might’ve have one too many pints when the pub radio began blasting the opening chords of Macarena. Suddenly she was transported back ten years to her primary school days, when she and Mels led the whole school through the moves of the dance during the school disco. She jumped from her bar stool into an empty spot between tables, stretching her arms out and swaying her hips.
“Come on!” she shouted at the group, but they just stared at her. Mels had disappeared somewhere, and with a sinking heart Amy realized the other girl most likely would’ve just laughed at her now. Like this crowd was doing.
But never mind, she didn’t need them. She tried to relax and enjoy the thump of the beat, moving her body, but it wasn’t working. Her smile became fixed and her movements stiff. Everyone was looking at her as if she were mad. Even the blokes, she could see it on their faces. Nice to look at, but she’s a bit weird. She thought about just stopping, but that would be even more pathetic. How long was this stupid song, anyway?
Then someone jumped in front of her, hands on his hips, and began mirroring her movements. Oh my god, it was Rory. Rory, who swore that he didn’t care what Mels said, he was happy just being her friend. The spectacularly shy and awkward boy who normally refused to dance even the simplest of steps was now standing in front of all his mates, dancing the Macarena.
In fact, he wasn’t just dancing the Macarena, he was working it, throwing his whole body into the movements, shaking his bum as they shimmied down towards the ground, and then jumped and turned. Everyone was laughing at him now, but he just smiled at her. It hit her then, why he was there. He was protecting her.
Mels was right. He did love her. A warm glow filled empty spaces in her soul that she didn’t even know were there.
This was a man she could count on.
The song ended and he gave a good-natured wave at their friends, who were still laughing, and started to shuffle off. Stupid. She grabbed the front of his checkered shirt in both hands and pulled him back towards her, crushing her mouth against his.
He froze for a moment, and then his arms were around her waist, and her arms were around his neck, and they were kissing, and it was wonderful. She was home now, home like she’d never felt before. There were shouts and wolf whistles, and neither of them cared.
This was a moment she would always remember. Amy Pond, in the arms of the most beautiful boy she'd ever known.