Roommates
by facemygeneration
Summary: Short drabbles about the life of Amy and Eleven in an AU in which they are two simple, completely human people sharing a fairly small, two-story apartment building.
Author's Note: I felt weird having a normal civilian calling another normal civilian "The Doctor," so I just changed it to "Doctor," like a nickname. Hope that doesn't make anyone mad.
"Amelia Pond. Get down here this instant."
The knocking on the door was incessant and infuriatingly relentless on Amy's ears. She sat on their very comfortable, plush sofa which she had splurged on merely a week before with her new money from her modeling job. All she asked for was a tiny bit of rest on her one day off from her very tiring career, to sit on her perfect new sofa and drink her tea. But, just like always, Doctor had to ruin that for her.
"AMY!"
"Oh, shut up!" she hollered down, her Scottish accent clumping the two words into what seemed like one.
Stretching back, she held her mug with two sweater-sleeve-covered hands and sipped carefully. She was not going to let him take this moment of respite away from her.
"Amy!"
"I'm not coming down, Doctor."
As if in defiance of her stubborn nature, Doctor continued to pound on the door. It was a hollow, solid, echoing sound. Amy could practically hear the door rattling in its frame, and she hoped that Doctor didn't knock the cheap block of wood right out. They didn't have enough money to repair that right then. The landlord would go bonkers.
She didn't really notice it when the banging stopped. When she finally realized it, she soaked in the blissful silence. She hadn't picked up on her quickening breathing and heart rate until she heard it banging against her skull in the silence. Maybe that made her a little angrier than she had initially thought.
"…Amy."
The quiescent, pleading voice barely carried to where she sat up the narrow flight of newly carpeted stairs. At first, she thought she had imagined it. Doctor would never beg. He was far above that, and he never let her forget it. His job was important, and he saved people. There was nothing that challenged Doctor. He wasn't scared of anything.
"I'm the perfect roommate," he said proudly. "You'll see."
"Oh, will I?" Amy asked, tilting her head and jutting her hip defiantly. "And what makes you think I want to rent an apartment with you?"
"How could you say no?" he replied, just as fast, just as self-assured. He grinned at her annoyed expression and ripped the piece of paper out of the newspaper for the cheapest two-story apartment.
Their chemistry was bubbling like baking soda and vinegar. It was a terrible choice, and they both knew it, but Doctor said it right. Neither of them could have said no, and it wasn't for lack of trying.
"Two-story? Why two-story?"
"Well, if I'm going to be sharing it with the likes of you, I'm going to need a lot of space, aren't I, Amelia?"He wouldn't wipe that stupid toothy smile off his face; it was maddening. Who even was this guy?
"It's Amy," she corrected, eyes narrowing.
"Right. Let's go check out this apartment, Amelia. Geronimo!"
Geronimo? she thought. Who on God's green earth says geronimo?
He grabbed her fleece-gloved hand and pulled her out of the café. They had people to see, places to go. She had no idea how exciting her life was about to become, all thanks to one chance meeting through a mutual friend.
"Oh my god, I'm coming down! Are you happy now?"
She flew down the stairs, hands against the walls for support. She couldn't even stand on the steps and extend both arms out—that's how narrow the flight was. She couldn't believe how much they had to pay for this tiny, cramped apartment. There wasn't even a quality view.
Jumping the last two steps, she skidded up to the door. Throwing it open with a whirl, she looked out for Doctor's smug face. Except it was nowhere to be seen.
But what there was, was pressure on her feet. Peering down, she saw Doctor staring back up at her, their shock mirrored in each others' faces.
Refusing to show any shock, as it was a sign of emotion, and therefore weakness in his eyes, Doctor sprang to his feet and dusted off his silly tweed jacket. Snapping his red suspenders back into place, he glanced up at Amy.
"Well, Amelia. It took you long enough."
She scoffed, rolled her eyes, and turned on her heel. The fiery red hair whipped Doctor in the face, and he sputtered and swatted it away.
"You're so Scottish," he muttered as he followed her into their apartment.
"Don't you dare sit on my couch!" Amy yelled, as she went into the kitchen to make some more tea. Doctor would be wanting some, and despite anything they said to each other, she always made them tea, and he always bought them biscuits.
Trudging up the stairs, Doctor practically dragged himself into the living room. Plopping down on "Amy's" couch and sinking into the soft, plushy cushions, he put his feet up on the coffee table.
Amy walked in with two mugs in hand. She saw Doctor on her couch, with his feet up on their almost unscratched coffee table, and opened her mouth to shout. But then she looked more closely, and she saw how he scrubbed his face with his hands, and ran them through his hair, and exhaled slowly and deeply. So she closed her mouth and did breathed deeply herself.
Putting a smile on her face, she walked over to Doctor and handed him his favorite tea in his favorite mug, just the way he liked it. He handed back her favorite type of biscuit from the tin he kept on the coffee table, and her favorite book. Where he had gotten that, he had no idea. She had never bought or borrowed it. She was about to ask, but he smiled at her tiredly, and she let it go.
Sitting down heavily next to him, she contented herself to sip and much and read, and that is what they did for the rest of the afternoon. When the sun went down and it was dark, they both fell asleep, shoulders touching. Amy's head was on the Doctor's shoulder, and his head rested on top of hers.
They wouldn't talk about it the next day, but neither could truthfully say they didn't enjoy it.
More adventures of Amy and Doctor to come...