What You Gonna Do?

by geronimoltobene [Reviews - 0]

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  • All Ages
  • None
  • Character Study, Humor, Romance, Vignette

Author's Notes:
BBC owns all, darnit.

On Amy’s 16th birthday, Rory had to work. He was unable to switch his day off with Gordon, the other bloke that worked at the chemist’s part-time (he had plans for the weekend with his girlfriend’s family, which was obviously more important) so by the time he got to Amy’s house, the celebration was pretty much over. Amy’s Aunt Sharon was in the kitchen cleaning up the table, but handed him a leftover slice of cake and shooed him up to Amy’s bedroom with a smile and a raised eyebrow.

“You just missed Mels and Jeff. Don’t be staying too long, she’s got that history project she’s working on. And keep the door open!” she called after him as Rory ascended the stairs. Amy might not have a clue, but Sharon sure did.

Rory knocked softly on the bedroom door. “Amy?”

“Come in!”

He opened the door to find her laying on her bed on her back, tossing one of her play blue boxes from one hand to the other. He couldn’t help but stare at her. Her long red hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and small diamonds glistened on her earlobes. She was wearing a baby blue jumper, and oooohhhhhh that denim miniskirt. Her feet were bare with neon orange polish on her toes.

“Rory?

“Hmm? Oh, Happy Birthday!”

Amy sat up on the bed and beamed at her best friend. And cocked her head. “What’s that you’ve got there?”

Rory gestured to the item he was carrying on his back. “Part of your gift. But first things first, uhm, can I sit down? Amy patted next to her as Rory placed it at the foot of the bed. He took a forkful of cake and shoveled it into his mouth before setting the plate aside. “You look lovely today. Are those new earrings?”

“Aunt Sharon got them for me. She said every girl needs diamonds in her life. They’re real, too,” she grinned.

Rory’s hand fumbled in his pocket at the small box it contained. Should I even bother now? I mean, what could compare to diamonds?

“So, did you come all the way over here just to sit next to me and compliment me? Not that I’m complaining much.” She got up and picked up a framed photo from her desk. “Look what Mels got me. At least I know it’s not stolen. Not sure about the frame though.”

It was the three of them, taken just a few weeks prior at a school dance. Amy and Rory had arrived together and met Mels out front, and Jeff had taken the photo. Promptly afterwards Mels had dragged Jeff off by his tie to dance, leaving Rory and Amy to fend for themselves. They went inside and grabbed a few snacks, mingling with their schoolmates, gossiping about who was going out with whom, until the deejay played some interesting songs. Amy grabbed Rory’s hand and pulled him out on the floor when Bohemian Rhapsody came on, and they sang along and made wild air-guitar motions to the lyrics. And then the Macarena was next. The dance floor filled with teenagers eager to dance and make fools of themselves, as long as it was in a crowd. And it was a crowd. By the end of the song there was hardly room to breathe, let alone dance. Amy was pressed up against Rory, face to face. She smiled, a bit conspiratorially, and fluttered her eyelashes. And kissed him. Not too soft, not too hard, but a nice, light buss pressed to his lips. Right then the song ended, and the throng of classmates parted, leaving Rory red-faced and breathing hard. Mels grabbed Amy’s hand and whisked her off to the ladies’ room, with a knowing wink tossed back in Rory’s direction.

He later heard from their wayward friend that she thought nothing of it and that she’d danced the rest of the evening away with a number of boys. Rory went home feeling quite dejected, and wondered my the next time he saw Amy she acted like nothing had happened. Something sure had happened to him.

Back in Amy’s bedroom, she sat back down next to him, the frame in hand. The three of them looked so happy. Looks can be deceiving. But he wanted to see that smile again.

“I have your gift for you. It’s not diamonds, but I think you’ll really like it. Mels helped me pick it out.” He pulled the small box from his pocket, a navy jeweler’s box with a tiny white bow on top. “Happy Birthday Amy.”

She plucked the bow off, and with a sly grin re-stuck it on Rory’s shirt. Opening the box, she gave a small gasp at it’s contents. “Rory, it’s beautiful!” She removed the necklace, a tiny gold ‘A’ on a delicate chain. “Can you put it on me?” She handed him the necklace and turned around.

Rory swallowed hard and barely resisted the temptation to plant a kiss on her smooth white neck. He reached around her and fastened the clasp, and she turned again to face him with that beaming smile. Reaching up to finger the ‘A,’ she looked down at what he’d placed on the floor when he’d arrived. “Thank you. So what you plan on doing with that, then? Still working on that band of yours?” she smirked.

Rory opened the guitar case and pulled out the acoustic guitar. He’d almost thought of pawning it when he was looking for the perfect birthday present, but while he was working with his father in the garage one afternoon he heard something that made him change his mind.

“I’m going to play for you. It’s still a work in progress so bear with me, please.” He was fumbling with it a bit, and Amy had to stifle a giggle. “Oi! Give me a chance!”

“Sorry, sorry,” she coughed out through a laugh. She tried to put on a straight face, crossed her ankles and laced her fingers together. Her expression was a perfect replica of what Aunt Sharon had given him earlier, raised eyebrow and all.

He messed up the first few chords, out of nervousness. He wasn’t used to having an audience, and this was the most important one of all. He closed his eyes and found a rhythm. And began to sing.

Don’t you think the time is right for us to find
All the things we thought weren’t proper could be right in time
And can you see
Which way we should turn together or alone
I can never see what’s right or what is wrong
Cause it will take too long to see

Amy, what you wanna do?
I think that I could stay with you
For a while, maybe longer if I do

Now it’s come to what you want, you’ve had your way
And all the things you thought before just faded into gray
And can’t you see
That I don’t know if it is you or if it is me
If it’s one of us I’m sure we both will see
So take a look at me and tell me

Amy, what you wanna do?
I think that I could stay with you
For a while, maybe longer if I do

It was far from perfect, he knew. He didn’t want to look at her. Didn’t want to see her reaction.

“Rory… that was…. Amazing. No one’s ever sang to me before. Rory, please look at me.”

He slowly looked up. She had tears in her eyes. If she blinked they’d be released but it appeared she didn’t want to do that. She took the guitar from his hands and leaned it against the bed, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you. So much, Rory. You’re my best friend, you’ve made this day so wonderful.” She squeezed him for a moment, and pulled back. Rory could feel his stomach turn to lead. Best friend. But oh, that smile.

“I better get going. Aunt Sharon says you’ve been working, or not working, on that history assignment. What’s your topic?”

“Ancient Rome. There’s an oral portion to the project, wanna help? You could dress up and be my own personal Roman centurion. Got the nose and all!”

Rory laughed. “Right, Rory the Roman. Sounds good. Maybe I’ll consider that for Halloween or something.” He picked up the guitar and placed it back in the case. Swinging it onto his back, he turned to go but stopped at the bedroom door. “Happy Birthday, Amy.”

“Thank you, Rory. I love the gifts. And I love you, I mean it!” She thrust a finger at him, as if to prove her point.

“I love you too, Amy.” He gave her a soft smile. “I’ll see you around.” And he left for downstairs and home.

Sharon called for Rory on his way out, and he poked his head into the kitchen, where she sat with a cup of tea. “Everything go alright?”

“Yeah, we’re good.” He gave her a half-smile. “Sorry, I left my cake plate upstairs.”

“Don’t even worry about it, love. I’ll take care of it. Have a good night, Rory.”

“Thanks, Sharon, g’night.”

“And nice bow.”

On the walk home Rory replayed the evening’s events in his head, tweaking the outcome each time. Sometimes he’d kissed her, just a small whisper against her lips, other times it was a full-on snog. Or he’d played the song perfectly and she’d thrown herself at him, tearing his clothes off and-

No, not his Amy.

I keep falling in and out of love with you
Falling in and out of love with you
Don’t know what I’m gonna do
I keep falling in and out of love, with you

///////////

Years later, celebrating her birthday with the Doctor on a tiny pleasure planet in the Broonnt galaxy shortly after leaving Vincent, Amy fingers the adornment at her neck. She can’t remember where it came from but she knows she’ll never take it off. It’s too loved.

Song is “Amie,” originally by Pure Prairie League, co. 1974. I figured Rory’s dad would’ve been a fan of classic rock.