A/N: Hello you gorgeous beasts. This is my first foray into Doctor Who as well as romance. I've always wondered how they ended up engaged, especially since Amy seems so bewildered by her decision in the first episodes of Series 5. The whole thing is finished, I'll be posting updates weekly. Much thanks for stopping by. The song I will be abusing before every chapter is Love Like Woe by The Ready Set, which wasn't a part of the plan at all until I needed a title. There's writing for you.

Big thanks to my any betas: blueskydog, ElvenWholockian, and Notasitseems-x.

It's like a hurricane
Speed train
She's a moving car
Go catch her in the fast lane
Oh I gotta know
Can I keep up with her pace?
Kickin' into gear when I see that face

You can take up all my time 'cause you're the only one
That can make a storm cloud break
Pulling out the sun
And I can't get caught in the rain
Can I get your lips to speak my name?

Today. Rory was going to do it today.

The sun shone into his room, and there was the sound of his dad moving around downstairs. He'd spent more than his usual five minutes (a whole fifteen, actually,) shaving his face and styling his hair. He made sure to add extra cologne, and then panicked and thought it might be too much and he'd knock his poor girlfriend (girlfriend!) flat, so had added a parka vest over his shirt to hopefully cover some of the smell.

Rory shuddered with nervousness and ruffled his spiky hair (Amy liked it that way. 'It looks like the latest in porcupine fashion' she'd said with a smile in her voice. Rory wore it like this ever since) before checking his pockets (ring in his back pocket, where he worried that it bulged too much), pulling on his trainers and walking out into the kitchen.

"Morning Dad," Rory greeted as he opened the refrigerator to retrieve the milk.

"Morning, son," his father said as he held the newspaper he was reading with one hand and nursing a cup of cloyingly sweet coffee with the other. "What have you got planned today? We could go golfing."

Today was Rory's day off. He pretended to everyone like he'd conveniently not been scheduled on a weekend, but he had actually had to beg and grovel at his supervisor's feet. It shouldn't have been such an ordeal since he would be making it up next week and he hadn't asked off since… since last year. Since the Doctor had been here.

The Doctor. Amy wouldn't stop talking about it, how she was right and no one could tell her otherwise anymore. She kept talking about how incredible he was and how she knew he would come back for her, and soon. She kept a bag packed by her back door for whenever it happened. Her childhood obsession had only just beginning to fade, and now it was worse than ever. Rory wanted her to forget about the Doctor. It was obvious he wasn't coming back at this point.

"Actually, I've got a date with Amy today," Rory said as he poured cereal into a bowl, the tinkly clattering of granola loud in the kitchen.

"Oh. Gotcha. Wouldn't want you to give that up," Dad said with an undercurrent that made Rory clench his teeth. "Best enjoy her while you can."

Rory said nothing, just ate his cereal at the counter in silence, aside from the granola that he was grinding up more than strictly necessary.

The doorbell rang (Amy wasn't supposed to be here for another ten minutes why was she here now…!) and Rory jumped, causing him to spill his cereal onto his jeans.

"Oh, seriously? Today, really?" Rory groaned, looking at his now-disgusting trousers.

"That'll be Amy," Dad said without looking up. Rory gritted his teeth again and mumbled something like please distract Amy before dashing off to his room to grab another pair of jeans that were clean and un-wrinkly. He was wrestling off the wet fabric over his trainers with some difficulty when he heard his dad say, "Oh, he's just up in his room," and fell against the wall in his panic. He'd barely got the new pair on when Amy swung the door open.

"Hey, gorgeous," she said with her playful smirk, and strode up to kiss his cheek. Rory felt heat spreading down from the point of contact, and couldn't help a nervous smile.

"Hey. Sorry, you're a bit early."

"Oh? Do you want me to wait outside until it hits nine-thirty exactly?" Amy asked, her tone suddenly dangerous.

"No! No. It's good. You - you ready?" Rory put his hands in his pockets, and looked down. Great, he was messing this day up already.

"Course I am, come on!" Amy said with a laugh, and Rory realized that she had just been teasing him. He laughed in relief and put his hand in hers as they walked out of the house.

"Bye Mr. Williams!" Amy said with a cheerful wave at Rory's father. He waved back before cotinuing to squint at the newspaper, and took another drink of coffee.

Rory left without saying anything.

"So, where are we headed? You might as well tell me, I can see right through you," Amy said with a grin, pulling on his arm as they got onto their bicycles.

"It's a surprise," Rory insisted weakly.

"I hate surprises." Amy pulled her white helmet on over her red hair.

"Well, maybe you'll like this one. There's a first time for everything." Rory put up his kickstand, and mentally reminded himself of the roads he needed to take.

"Hey, no need to get tetchy," Amy grumbled, offended at his defensive tone. "You're in such a whiny mood today."

Rory swallowed the sting. "Ready?"

"Yeah. Lead the way," Amy said, sounding a bit bored.

Rory did, and off they went, riding through Leadworth's sleeping suburbs. The cobbled streets were smooth and perfect for biking, and the cool air felt cold as it rushed past Rory's face and ran its fingers through his hair.

"Hello Rory and Amy!" said a little girl on the sidewalk as they passed the duck pond. Rory recognized her as one of the disabled kids that him and Amy had played with while volunteering at the local hospital. She was in her wheelchair, and her and her mother waved as the young couple rode past. Amy laughed with delight and waved back at them, and Rory waved too, though he felt more like looking at the road and keeping both his hands solidly on the handles.

"Hey Amy!" some trendy-looking girl said as they went through town, and then giggled and whispered to the veritable murder of similar females around her. It was how Rory always thought of the group of girls they had gone to school with; crows. Amy got along with them now, but all through primary school and half of secondary, they avoided her since she was, first of all, Scottish and unapologetic about it, and she was known for being obsessed with her imaginary friend and having several psychiatrists.

Rory, of course, had been in love with her since he saw her. He'd seen her during lunchtime, playing football with the other kids. He knew now that she'd been trying to prove herself, but then it had seemed like she wasn't afraid of anything. He had been enchanted by how hard she could kick the ball; she kicked it so hard, in fact, that it sailed over the goal. The other kids whined about it and teased her, but she just kept her chin up proudly and marched to the back of the line to kick again. Rory ran up behind her, legs weak, but eager to talk to this new girl.

"Hi," Rory had said breathlessly.

She turned around and kicked him in the shin, hard.

"Ow! What was that for?" Rory said in a high-pitched voice of shock. And pain, mostly pain.

"Don't bother me," she said with a roll of her eyes, and then turned around. It was soon her turn again, and once again she kicked the ball way over the goal. She looked satisfied with herself, and Rory thought his mouth might be open in awe and he should probably close it.

Some random kid brought it back and placed it in front of Rory. The new fire-haired girl watched off to the side, arms crossed and smirking. Rory swallowed and swung as hard as he could, and missed the ball completely.

"Sorry," he said. He didn't even know who he was apologizing to. Maybe himself. He was unfortunately incredibly English.

"I like you. What's your name?" the girl said, taking his arm and leading him away from the mockery of the other kids.

"Rory."

"I'm Amelia. We're going to be friends," she informed him.

"Okay."

Ever since, he'd been following Amy around like a lemming, unable to tell her no. She'd hit him and tease him and test him, and he'd take it. One time, as a joke, he'd shoved her back, but it had been badly timed and she ended up falling and smashing her leg against the corner of a wooden table. As she laid there, groaning quietly, Rory had wanted nothing more than to die for harming her. He had run away, hearing something like 'It's okay' from her, but he later thought he must have been wrong.

"Hey," Amy said casually without waving as they pedaled by the group. She must have been thinking of her childhood too, because she rode up next to Rory and had a thoughtful expression on her face.

"You're really not going to tell me where we're going?" Amy asked, a hint of a smile in her voice.

"I will if you really want me to," Rory said, fond but defeated.

"Mmmm, no. I'll let you surprise me," she said cheekily and reached out to lightly bump his arm with her fist before surging ahead, giggling and challenging him to a race. Rory smiled involuntarily and followed along best he could, just like he always did.

It had been a good ride - they'd stopped for lunch in a nice open field of soft grass. Rory brought the sandwiches and Amy brought the wine and glasses, carefully packed in her backpack. Rory had just asked her to bring any drinks, but he wasn't complaining. Another couple of hours, and Amy could smell the sea air, unmistakable in the air rushing past them, nipping gently at their faces.

"Oh, yeah! I haven't been to the seaside in months!" Amy had said loudly, and pumped her fist in victory. "Good choice, Rory! Amy gives her approval."

Rory shrugged, feeling warm inside. "I thought you might like it."

A couple minutes later the ground turned to sand, and they went past several large sand dunes before coming to the shore. The sand looked brown-grey, a solution of sand and pebbles (mostly pebbles) that made walking barefoot very awkward and not to mention painful. The sky was a cautious mix of blue and grey. There weren't many people out today, since it was starting to get cold, well colder. Mostly people were fishing, hoping to get a good catch.

They got off and walked their bikes to a rack and locked them up.

Then Amy draped her arms around Rory's neck and kissed him briefly. His heart swelled impossibly large and his stomach flipped about five times.

"I love it," she whispered, her smiling face only centimeters from his, with her perfect porcelain skin, hazel eyes, with stray ribbons of red floating lazily in the sea breeze, some strands getting lodged in her lipstick.

Rory put his hands on her waistband held her close. "Good," he said evenly, and then slid one arm around her waist and began to walk her down the shoreline.

Amy was watching the sea birds dive into the water, and Rory watched the sand they were walking on, heart pounding.

"Woah, careful," he said urgently, and pulled her path around a rare crab on the ground. Amy didn't look happy at getting thrown around.

"I can handle myself, Rory," she grumbled, but let him keep his arm around her.

They walked for a bit longer, until their hair was completely windblown and their lips tasted like salt.

"Amy, I - I wanted to ask you something," Rory said. He could feel his pulse in his throat, and he kept his eyes on the sand in front of them.

"What is it?" Amy asked, able to sense this was serious, but sounding wary.

"Amy…" Rory let go of her waist, moved in front of her, and knelt. "I…" he trailed off as he felt in his pocket for the ring. The ring, where was the ring?!

Rory remembered all at once in agonizing detail. They were still in his other jeans. Of course this would happen to him, of all people.

"Rory?" Amy asked, frowning and raising an eyebrow as she cocked her head to the side in question.

"I don't feel well." Rory doubled over, holding his stomach.

"You okay?" Amy asked as she knelt next to him, rubbing his back.

"Do I look okay?" Rory asked weakly.

"Don't throw up on me."

"I think I just need to sit awhile."

Amy looked at him searchingly for a moment before sitting in the sand, heedless of how the wet sand soaked the bottom of her yellow jeans. She pulled Rory down onto his seat as well, and leaned into his shoulder.

"You're cute," she said, and when Rory glanced down he could see her smiling into his chest.

"Thanks, you too," Rory said numbly, gently wrapping his arm around her. He sighed.