A/N: This was written at 1 AM. The idea and words shoved their way into my brain and refused to let me sleep until I wrote it. As such, this probably isn't my best work and could stand to be polished a little more.
At first they had separate rooms on the TARDIS.
Amy liked her space, you know, and Rory was far too embarrassed to admit that he really, really wanted to share a room with her.
So the TARDIS started out by giving them rooms next door and they would often wile away the late night hours in one room or another, talking about anything and everything.
Sometimes Amy would get into one of her quiet moods, where she withdrew into herself and lashed out at anyone who came near. Strangely enough, this did not deter Rory in the least. He would sneak into her room after she had fallen into a restless sleep, brushing the locks of bright red hair away from her forehead as she tossed and turned.
She wouldn't admit it to anyone, of course, not even him, but her strange, lonely childhood had scarred her more than anyone knew. All alone in a big house, with only flighty Aunt Sharon for company...was it any wonder that she had clung to an imaginary friend to pass the time?
The fact that he wasn't actually imaginary was just a small, deeply ironic detail.
After the tenth or eleventh time Amy woke up screaming about monsters and the crack in her wall, and Rory nearly went through their shared wall trying to reach her, the TARDIS installed a door joining their rooms, for easy access. They used the door so much it became permanently opened, a pathway between their shared spaces. Still, neither of them were ready to admit that a room of their own might be something that they wanted.
The Doctor was patient with them; the TARDIS less so. He would lovingly pat her consoles when no one else was around and whisper to her:
"Now, now, old girl, you have infinite space to expand and do whatever you like. What does one more room matter to you?"
The TARDIS would huff an indignant reply.
"I know, I KNOW, but obviously they're not ready. Let them take their time. We've got plenty of it. When they're ready, they'll let us know."
If he had known the TARDIS was going to shove the couple in the right direction, he would have been far more stern with her. As it was, upon returning from yet another death-defying adventure, Amy and Rory discovered that the shared wall between their rooms had simply disappeared, door and all, and that their two beds had mysteriously merged to become...bunk beds. Well, the TARDIS didn't want to push her luck TOO much.
When the two clattered down the stairs and started shouting about bunk beds, the Doctor knew immediately what had happen. He wagged a scolding finger in the general direction of the TARDIS circuitry. He could've sworn she was laughing at him.
He spread his hands helplessly, trying not to look too amused. "Sorry, no can do." He said. "The TARDIS does what she likes. If I try to stop her she becomes very cross and you really don't want that, she has a fondness for landing me in the Bermuda Triangle when she's cross with me."
Amy leveled him with a malevolent glare and stomped back up the stairs muttering "bunk beds" under her breath. Rory followed, trailing after her like a lovesick puppy.
"Besides," the Doctor continued aloud to no one in particular. "Bunk beds are cool."
