London. Dec. 1939
Rory blinked up at her. He felt a bit faint. He felt as if he'd just seen a ghost. Amy was looking at him funny. Her mouth was moving but he didn't register what she was saying. "Wh..." he mumbled.
She gave him another look. "I asked if you were okay," she said. Rory squinted at her. No, no it wasn't Amy. That was impossible. Amy was inside the Pandorica. But this girl look liked a lot like her; it was uncanny.
"Uh... Yeah, yeah I'm fine," Rory said. The girl looked a bit concerned, "It's just you look kind of lonely."
That hit Rory right in the chest. Yeah, he was lonely. But he faked a smile. "Nah," he said, "Just waiting for someone."
"Okay..." said the girl, and started to walk away. Rory noticed she was holding several large packages. "Er... Do you need help, miss?" he asked. The girl turned, and one of the packages dropped with a shattering noise. "Oh shoot," she said, then gave him a goofy grin, "Uhm, actually some help would be nice." Rory sprung up and took a couple packages.
"Thanks!" she said, "I'm just dropping them off to a few of my friends."
Rory glanced back at the warehouse that hid the Pandorica. Amy should be fine for a few hours, he thought. And he could use the company. He smiled. "Point the way," he said.
The girl lead the way and Rory followed. She glanced sideways at him. "Why are you dressed like that? Do you have a party?" She asked. Rory suddenly became very aware that he didn't exactly fit in. He still had his centurion armor on. "Yeah, something like that," he said.
The girl laughed, "You kind of remind me of that old legend. About the centurion and the box." Rory frowned. "What?" He asked. The girl stooped down to put a package on a doorstep. "Yeah," she said, "It was my favorite story when I was little. It was about this centurion guarding this huge box called the Pandorica. You kind of look like the illustration in one of the books." Books? He was a book now? "Oh," said Rory, "Well was this centurion handsome?" She laughed, "Why?" "Just wondering," he said. They kept walking. He felt very self- conscious of the squeaking his limbs made when he moved.
"Oh!" Said the girl, "I'm Tori, by the way. Tori Planck." Rory smiled, "Rory Williams," he said, "Nice to meet you. Tell me Tori, why are you still in London? You do know there's a war on?" Tori nodded, "Yeah. But those Germans can't scare me. Nothing in the world can keep me away from this city. Or my job! I'm training to be a fashion stylist."
"That's exciting!" Rory said, handing her a package to set down. "Yeah, what about you?" she asked. "Oh me?," said Rory, "I'm sort of a security guard." "For what?" "Uhm," he hesitated. He couldn't say the Pandorica. "A hospital," he said. Well, it wasn't a complete lie.
"Oh, okay!," said Tori, setting down the last present, "Well, that's the last of them, thank you!" "No problem. Happy Christmas," said Rory. "And you," said Tori with a smile.
Rory turned back to the warehouse. He felt a bit sad. How many Christmases without Amy have passed him by? Well, it was only 1939. 70 more years to go.