This is Chapter 1, but it's more of a scene-setting prologue. The story really begins in the next chapter...

Amy Pond's heart fluttered as the Doctor took her hand. It was foolish, she knew, to be so utterly thrilled by the brief contact as he pulled her through the door and out into the next strange new world. It was a meaningless action; merely an attempt to move her along more quickly, his desire to show her whatever was outside the TARDIS just as great as ever. At best the touch could be considered trusting and friendly and close. Nothing more.

But still it set Amy's heart on fire.

It wasn't that she was keeping count, nor that she was deliberately registering in her mind every time they brushed shoulders, or every time he looked into her eyes. It was just that whenever he did, whatever certainty she had managed to maintain that she could never be his, simply vanished. When he looked at her with that sideward smile of his, when he laughed and pulled her into a hug, when he linked his arm around hers… it wasn't hope. It was a childish, unrealistic delusion. In those moments she couldn't help but truly believe that everything was perfect, that there was no one else in the world and that he would never leave.

And then he'd let go, or look away, or run off to inspect whatever had just grabbed his seemingly short-spanning attention. And every time her heart would break. But she would smile and follow him, trying to ignore the ache in her soul. Waiting again, for the next time they touched.

He wasn't stupid. He wasn't ignorant. Nobody stupid and ignorant could have survived nine-hundred years, given the sort of things he'd been through. And he certainly wasn't naïve. He knew exactly how she felt.

Which is why he kept letting go.

He saw the look in her eyes when he peered into them. He heard the quickened pace of her breathing when he moved close to her. He felt the soft yet urgent way she hugged him back. And he loved it. He loved knowing how he could make her feel. In his weaker moments he would allow himself a full five seconds to gaze into her beautiful brown eyes. And he would feel the bliss of the way she gazed back.

But then he would remember. Remember his responsibility to make sure she could be happy. And if she loved him, then she never would be. They could never be together forever. And the closer they got to each other, the harder it would be to let go when the time eventually came.

So he looked away. So he let go. So he ran. He distracted himself with whatever he could find. He pretended he didn't care. He broke her heart over and over in the hope that she would stop looking at him in that way. He wanted to carry the burden of this heartache alone.

But she was so stubborn. He would tell her to stay and she would follow. He would tell her to stay silent and she would speak. He would tell her not to touch things and her curious hands would wander… And every time he looked at her his eyes would tell her to give up and forget him. And she would blink the tears away and follow him.

He wished he could tell her how he felt. He wished he could take her in his arms and never let go. But it would never be possible. She could never be his. He had no right to lay any sort of claim to her, and he had no right to ruin any chance of a life for her. He was horrified by the occasional stray thought that even his presence in her life for this long would permanently destroy her ability to carry on when he would inevitably have to leave. He lived in constant fear that he had already done more damage than could be repaired. But more than that he lived in a constant fear that one of these days his strength of conviction would fail… and he wouldn't let go.

They were in a park. The name of the place hadn't stuck in Amy's mind as the Doctor waffled on about where exactly they were, but it didn't much matter to her. The suns were shining in the slightly orange-tinted sky, the grass beneath them was soft and fluffy and she and the Doctor lay side by side, gazing up at the clouds.

Amy tried not to let the word 'perfect' come to mind. Thinking words like that would lead to thinking of other words, like 'happy' and 'bliss' and 'forever'. She continually reminded herself that around the Doctor, happiness was frequently replaced with danger, that bliss was just what happened before you realised you needed to run, and that forever was only ever going to be applicable to one of them. Not that she needed forever. She would gladly trade a forever by herself for just a few years with him.

"Do you often get to come somewhere nice like this and just… relax?" She asked, glancing over at him. "In between the running for your life and fighting monsters?"

"The trouble is how often the monsters decided to interrupt the relaxation." He looked over at her and grinned. "It's just how it seems to be for me."

She smiled back. "Well I'll just have to force you to try and relax more often then," She turned back to the clouds above. "I mean don't get me wrong, I'm all for the adrenalin and the running and the saving the universe and all that, but it's nice once in a while to just put your feet up I think."

"Oh yes, definitely. Important thing that. The putting up of the feet and whatnot."

"You do, don't you? Put up your feet?"

"Well not always up as such."

"But you do try and have… days off, from the whole running, fighting, saving thing?"

"…There's not generally a whole lot else left, when the running and fighting and etc. etc. is being avoided." Amy turned back towards the Doctor as he looked up into the sky, aware that he wasn't really observing the clouds any longer. "And after all, what's life about if not trying to keep things interesting?"

"Well there's plenty of other things I think," Amy said quietly, aware that she was entering into a risky territory of conversation. "Should one feel so inclined." She didn't want to scare him off, and if her chosen topic drifted towards a certain well-avoided theme, then the Doctor would undoubtedly remember something important he had to do somewhere else, very quickly and they would say no more about it.

"Do you have any hobbies?" She asked, after a longer-than-comfortable pause. "Something to do when you're not busy rescuing some alien species?"

"A hobby?"

"Yeah, like what you do for fun?"

"But saving alien species is fun."

Amy sighed, and smirked at him. "You are hopeless Doctor."

"There y'see? Fun! What more could you want out of a day than this!"

He pulled a lever on the control panel of the TARDIS, then twisted a valve handle and pushed a button. The TARDIS began to shake and rattle and Amy massaged the bump that was swiftly forming on the side of her head.

"I think less of a concussion would be nice," she said, "And I think 'fun' is perhaps a little generous. Exciting, yes. Personally though I think I lost 'fun' right about the point when Mr Six-Eyes took a swing at me with a tentacle."

"Oh the Vubeteruunians are just a little clumsy," the Doctor said dismissively, tapping something into a keypad and setting a pendulum swinging, hanging onto the railing as the TARDIS gave another almighty shudder. "And who's surprised with a head as big as that? It wasn't like he actually wanted to hurt you. They, like so many other large, scaly creatures are just terribly misunderstood. "

"M-hm," Amy hummed, unconvinced. She went to stand by his side, shoulder to shoulder. "So. Where to now?" She looked into his eyes, her eager, slightly mischievous expression making one of his hearts skip a beat, the way it always did. For a brief moment all he could do was look back.

"Wherever you want," he said after what felt more than just a second, turning away and concentrating on a screen in front of him. "Earth or Alien?"

Amy looked thoughtful for a moment. "Earth," She said finally.

"When?"

"Let's go see if all that stuff about King Arthur was true," she replied, flashing him her stunning smile. "I've always had a hankering to meet a myth."

He smiled back and pushed a lever upwards.

The TARDIS lurched. Amy completely lost her footing and ended up toppling to the floor, where she rolled under the Doctor's feet. As he fell, he managed to grab the railing and swing himself around to land beside her, rather than falling onto her. As he landed though, his hand found hers and he squeezed it tight. They laughed together as the bumpy ride continued, holding onto each other and the railings for support. As the time machine levelled off however, Amy's laughter quickly faded. The Doctor looked round at her. She looked speechless, her eyes fixed on their linked hands - more specifically, the Doctor's thumb, with which he had been absent-mindedly stroking her soft skin.

He quickly let go.

Amy knew she was only torturing herself, but she couldn't help it. He commanded the attention and respect of armies and Kings and he had the compassion to save anyone and anything and would lay down his life to do so if necessary. In the little girl's fantasy knight-in-shining-armour guidebook he was absolutely one hundred percent, it.

And she couldn't stand it any longer. She had to tell him.

She waited until they had bade farewell to the boy, Arthur and had closed the door of the TARDIS once again, ready to travel to some new, distant place. He flipped a switch and wound up a thingemajigg and she heard the familiar echoed whoop whoop whoop of the TARDIS as it began to move through time.

"So where to next?" The Doctor asked, excitedly, busying himself with the controls of the ship. "Is it to be a planet, or a spaceship… The future, the past… I'd say the bit in the middle but I went there once and there's not much to say for it."

Amy crept up to her usual spot beside him, her shoulder gently leaning on his.

"Actually I wondered if we could just stay here for a little bit," she said, her throat dry and her heart thumping ferociously.

He turned to her blankly. "Stay where?"

"Here," she said again, trying to look at him pointedly.

"Where?"

"Here."

"Medieval England?"

"No here. Right HERE."

She lifted her hand and gently placed it on top of his, where it rested on the control panel. They had barely made contact however, before he pulled away and hurriedly darted around to the other side of the controls, muttering something about an inability to just hover in non-time.

"Well then park up somewhere and just… kill the engine," Amy said meaningfully, moving around the platform towards him.

Glancing nervously, he moved further around, trying to put some distance between them. "Listen, Amy," he said hurriedly. "I think know what you're thinking and I think what you're thinking is a bad thought. Nothing good will come of it - sort of pain-inducing thoughts in fact so I think it'd just be best if you stopped thinking it and we continued with whatever we were talking about before we started thinking."

"Would it really be so terrible?" Amy asked quietly, "To hear what I want to say?"

"I've a feeling in fact that it might be," he replied, somewhat breathlessly.

There was a moment of silence. "Fine," Amy whispered, her eyes cast down at her feet, leaning on the railing and picking distractedly at her fingernails.

The Doctor sighed and his shoulders sagged as she sniffed dramatically. "Look," he started towards her, placing a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, "I didn't mean to upset you, I just-"

He didn't get another word in. As he moved close enough, Amy suddenly lifted her head and planted her lips upon his, grabbing his shirt with both hands and pulling herself towards him. She knew it was foolish, and she knew she had about half a second before he pulled away, but she didn't care. It was worth it. She was happy, it was bliss and it lasted forever…

And then he pulled away. Gently releasing her hands from his shirt he pushed her to arm's length. Amy didn't argue. She just sighed and fought back the tears with an understanding nod.

"I'm sorry…" he began.

"It's ok," she said hoarsely. "I knew you wouldn't want to. I just…" she glanced awkwardly down at her fingernails again.

Her heart ached and she couldn't even make eye contact with him. She wondered if it really had been worth it after all... if it really had been worth this much pain.

"Amy," he said, lifting her chin and gently placing his palm on her check, "Dear, sweet, stubborn Amelia Pond…" She looked up into his eyes, a last vestige of hope resting on the brink of utter defeat.

She was ready for him to console her. To tell her that it simply couldn't be. That it couldn't work, and that he would never be right for her.

Instead, he leaned slowly forwards, and pressed his lips against hers, his fingers running through her hair. She could practically hear her heartbeat now, and her breaths came quickly and urgent as he kissed her more deeply. She pulled herself closer to him and he felt the of relief as he put his arms around her.

This was perfection. And then she opened her eyes, looking up at the empty bedroom she lay in. She brushed away a tear and wished with all her soul that she could have sacrificed whatever adventure lay in store for that day, to go back to her dream.