Written for Juliet316's prompt at fic promptly: Doctor Who, author's choice, word power

Rory had always known that there was power in words, they could start or end wars, change the future, words had the power to inspire a generation or halt civilisation as it stood. He had watched what words could do over the 2000 years that he had waited for Amy, while he didn't physically live it in the end, he still had vague memories of that time.

The main thing about the power of words he didn't understand was the way that women used them, they always said one thing, and expected you to know that they meant something else. Amy did it to him all the time, and at times he almost thought that the Doctor had picked up on the habit as well; most of the time the Doctor just had difficulty finding the words that would explain what he wanted them to know without confusing them.

It was when the TARDIS joined in with Amy, telling him one thing, but meaning something else. If Amy hadn't been with him and hadn't understood in a way that only another woman seemed to then they would have lost all hope. The Doctor and the TARDIS in her human shell would have been trapped outside the universe and he and Amy would have been left at the mercy of House and Nephew, while House searched out his next meal.

Crimson. Eleven. Delight. Petrichor.

She hadn't explained that instead of saying the words to enter the old control room he would need to think about them, and she had told him petrichor, couldn't she have just said the smell of dust after rain. He would never understand woman, his wife or the time travelling police box that they travelled in. He would seek solidarity with the Doctor, but he didn't understand half of what he said at times either.