But on the other hand, it was getting cold and her fingertips had wrinkled like raisins. Time to get out of the water.
She swam to the edge and hauled herself out, her wet hair clinging to her head and neck. She gathered it in her hands, squeezed some of the water out of it and tossed it back over her shoulder with a flick of her head. That was when she noticed the Doctor. He was standing in the doorway, smiling and holding a large, fluffy tartan towel.
"I thought you might need this."
Amy suddenly felt very aware of the fact that she was standing there in just a bikini in front of the Doctor. She folded her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow.
"Tartan, eh?"
"Well to be honest, it was the first towel I could find," he admitted, walking across the tiles to join her. "Haven't used the pool in a while, really, I should really get more use out of it. Still want it?"
"Of course – hand it over."
Instead, he wrapped the towel gently around her shoulders. She felt a little fluttering in her belly and tried to ignore it, focussing on the towel instead. Up close, she could see that it had a row of Scottie dogs across its edge. Scottie dogs! Where in space and time he'd managed to pick it up, she had no idea. It was warm, though, and very, very soft. She wrapped it tighter around herself.
"Ooh, it's nice. Where'd you pick this up?"
"I don't actually know. I'm sure it came from... a place... in a time... somewhere."
Amy smiled. "So what now? Off again to new and exciting places?"
"What else?"
"What else, indeed? Where to, gallant captain?"
"Follow me."
He gently took hold of her hand and led her out of the pool room, down a corridor, around a corner, and into something that looked like it had been pulled from a country cottage. A dark wood dining table and chairs stood on a flagstone floor in front of a warm fireplace. The table was set for two: one side had a bowl of custard and a plate of fish fingers; the other, a bowl of vanilla ice cream. Her favourite food.
It was just like old times.
Amy Pond sat down at a kitchen table in a cottage room inside a time-machine-slash-space-ship, wearing nothing but a bikini and a towel, and began to eat ice-cream with an alien who was eating fish-custard. And oddly enough, the only thing that felt strange about it was how normal and right it felt to her. Like she should always be here. Like this was her place.
The first cold, sweet mouthful made her close her eyes, lean back in her chair and moan softly with happiness.
"Ooh, that is good. I have missed this."
When she opened her eyes, the Doctor was watching her, a half-eaten fish finger in his hand and a smile on his face. And she looked back, right into his eyes, ice cream on her lips and her tongue, sweet and cold and so delicious.
This was what she wanted right where and when she wanted it. She wanted this, these travels and these excitements and these moments of quiet, calm contentment in between when he could do unexpected things, like surprise her with her favourite food when she was least expecting it, and she wanted him. She always had. It was all about the Doctor.
Amy stood up, walked down the table to the Doctor, cupped his face with one hand, and kissed him full on the mouth.
She fully expected him to pull away. After all, the last time she'd tried to kiss him, he'd freaked out. But this time, he try to run. After a few moments of shocked stillness, as though he'd been frozen in time, he slowly, tentatively, started to kiss her back.
Amy could taste the fish-custard in his kiss, but somehow, it was nothing like the fish-custard she'd choked down before. It was so much better: it tasted of the Doctor, too.
Maybe fish-custard could be her favourite after all, as long as the Doctor came with it.
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Of Introspection and Ice Cream: Part 3 of 3 (Amy/11)
Date: 2010-05-30 09:17 pm (UTC)But on the other hand, it was getting cold and her fingertips had wrinkled like raisins. Time to get out of the water.
She swam to the edge and hauled herself out, her wet hair clinging to her head and neck. She gathered it in her hands, squeezed some of the water out of it and tossed it back over her shoulder with a flick of her head. That was when she noticed the Doctor. He was standing in the doorway, smiling and holding a large, fluffy tartan towel.
"I thought you might need this."
Amy suddenly felt very aware of the fact that she was standing there in just a bikini in front of the Doctor. She folded her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow.
"Tartan, eh?"
"Well to be honest, it was the first towel I could find," he admitted, walking across the tiles to join her. "Haven't used the pool in a while, really, I should really get more use out of it. Still want it?"
"Of course – hand it over."
Instead, he wrapped the towel gently around her shoulders. She felt a little fluttering in her belly and tried to ignore it, focussing on the towel instead. Up close, she could see that it had a row of Scottie dogs across its edge. Scottie dogs! Where in space and time he'd managed to pick it up, she had no idea. It was warm, though, and very, very soft. She wrapped it tighter around herself.
"Ooh, it's nice. Where'd you pick this up?"
"I don't actually know. I'm sure it came from... a place... in a time... somewhere."
Amy smiled. "So what now? Off again to new and exciting places?"
"What else?"
"What else, indeed? Where to, gallant captain?"
"Follow me."
He gently took hold of her hand and led her out of the pool room, down a corridor, around a corner, and into something that looked like it had been pulled from a country cottage. A dark wood dining table and chairs stood on a flagstone floor in front of a warm fireplace. The table was set for two: one side had a bowl of custard and a plate of fish fingers; the other, a bowl of vanilla ice cream. Her favourite food.
It was just like old times.
Amy Pond sat down at a kitchen table in a cottage room inside a time-machine-slash-space-ship, wearing nothing but a bikini and a towel, and began to eat ice-cream with an alien who was eating fish-custard. And oddly enough, the only thing that felt strange about it was how normal and right it felt to her. Like she should always be here. Like this was her place.
The first cold, sweet mouthful made her close her eyes, lean back in her chair and moan softly with happiness.
"Ooh, that is good. I have missed this."
When she opened her eyes, the Doctor was watching her, a half-eaten fish finger in his hand and a smile on his face. And she looked back, right into his eyes, ice cream on her lips and her tongue, sweet and cold and so delicious.
This was what she wanted right where and when she wanted it. She wanted this, these travels and these excitements and these moments of quiet, calm contentment in between when he could do unexpected things, like surprise her with her favourite food when she was least expecting it, and she wanted him. She always had. It was all about the Doctor.
Amy stood up, walked down the table to the Doctor, cupped his face with one hand, and kissed him full on the mouth.
She fully expected him to pull away. After all, the last time she'd tried to kiss him, he'd freaked out. But this time, he try to run. After a few moments of shocked stillness, as though he'd been frozen in time, he slowly, tentatively, started to kiss her back.
Amy could taste the fish-custard in his kiss, but somehow, it was nothing like the fish-custard she'd choked down before. It was so much better: it tasted of the Doctor, too.
Maybe fish-custard could be her favourite after all, as long as the Doctor came with it.