This story is set just before Rory becomes a night guard in the alternative universe when he guards the Pandorica. The ending to this story is bittersweet, so if you're not a fan of that, don't say I didn't warn you.

Enjoy!

There was something quietly nerdy about their new substitute teacher; Mr Williams. Their normal teacher, Miss Farthingwell, was repeatedly ill with some throat problem that Amy didn't really care about.

Mr Williams looks young; early 20's maximum. His dark blond hair and green eyes are a force to be reckoned with. He's a teacher that's easy going and can teach a way that keeps the ones that want to learn, but find it hard, interested. He seems like a pushover when you first meet him, but get on the wrong side of him, and you're in for a world of trouble.

Mr Williams was teaching them History; specifically, The Romans. It was a topic Amy enjoyed, (and was good at) so she shouldn't have been zoning out, but there was something about the way Mr Williams talked, (and the way he looked) that intrigued her. It was like he'd been there!

He would start talking about the way the costumes hurt in certain places, so you had to walk a certain way, or how you had to hold a sword and she would get lost in the way he taught, she would think she was there, feeling the heat from the explosions on her face.

She kept staring at his face, the way his lips moved when he talked and how his eyes danced with a bright fire, then sadness, whenever he mentioned a girl - how he would spend more than his lifetime protecting her. Amy assumed that was his wife - girlfriend maybe? Someone he loved, definitely. But whenever he talked about her, he would sneak a look at her. She didn't know why; maybe she looked like her. She'd always end up smirking at him, and his gaze would linger, for just a second longer than it was meant to.

Anyway, because of these little moments, she had taken it upon herself to assume that he liked her, more than just because she knew almost as much as he did.

He wasn't particularly hot. He was more like the first boyfriend you bring home to impress your parents type. But then, there was something about him that was irresistible. There was a cute nerdy quality about him, that honestly, was quite a turn on for her. It was inevitable. Amy finds the waistcoat he always wears is turning out to be her kriptonite. She would have to make a move soon. Why not now?

So when the bell rung for lunch, she lingered behind. She could skip lunch for one day. Mr Williams was rubbing off the notes from this lesson off the board, ready for the next one. Amy decided that now would be a good time to strike up her conversation. "Mr Williams?"

He didn't turn to look at her, which she found odd, but he did answer her. "What can I do for you, Miss Pond?" Little does she know that, for him, talking to her is hard, because he's teaching her and protecting her at the same time, and that makes his head hurt.

Amy starts simply, she'll work her way up soon enough. "I wondered if you had any good tittles for my Roman's project?"

He smirks to himself, "Invasion of the hot Italians."

She chuckles, that sounds like a tittle she'd use. "What's your first name?"

Mr Williams smiles to the board, "It's Rory." He answers, now turning to face her, his eyes alight. Her best friend is called Rory, too. She wonders if they're related. Her best friend is not in school right now, because he's training to be a nurse. "Is that all?" He questions, sitting on the corner of his desk, one leg swinging idly and his hands in his lap.

"No," Amy shakes her head. "I want to know how you teach so well. It's like you actually lived what you're telling us."

Rory chuckles, looking down at the floor, "You really do love the Romans, don't you, Amy?"

She's stunned that he knows her name. She knows that she's known around school, but he's only been here a few days. But she's smart enough to know he's saw it on the register. She's also smart enough to know that he's redirecting the conversation. "Yeah. I do. Now, go on, Sir. Tell me how you can teach like that! I promise I won't tell anyone."

"Apart from Melody." He quips.

She shrugs it off, "I trust her, but I won't tell her if you really don't want me to."

He nods, "I know. But I'd rather hear your theories."

"I think you already know." He gives her a look - he really wants to hear. She sighs as she sits on her desk, cross legged. "I think you were there. I think you were a Roman and lived in Roman times. I think you weren't just a Roman, though. You were a Centurion - that's how you know so much about the armour and stuff."

He gives her a look again. This one's deep and it bores into her eyes - into her soul. It sends a shiver down her spine; it's incredibly pleasuring. But she's looking into his eyes, too and they look young and old at the same time. It's another reason why she thinks he was there.

He sighs, long, taking his time, "How can you always see right through me?" His eyes are heavy, and she doesn't know how to handle it, so she jokes.

"It's a gift." She jumps off her desk and leans against it as he smirks.

"Same old Amy." He mutters, so quietly, she barely hears it and by the time she wants to ask what he said, he's already talking again. "So, anything else?"

She shakes her head, "Rory, I-" She pauses, there's something intimately personal about calling him by his first name. She finds she likes it. She clears her throat so she can speak again. "I was wondering why you keep looking at me when you mention the girl; the one you're meant to protect?"

He decides to be blunt; he would just be wasting time doing anything else. It wouldn't be the truth, but it would be close enough that he wouldn't have to explain and that she would be satisfied. "She's my fiancé and she looks a lot like you. I don't see her much and you remind me of her."

That explains why he doesn't talk to her as much as he should. But Amy finds jealously growing in the pit of her stomach. But maybe she can use this to her advantage.

"Do you like me, Rory?"

Her question takes him by so much surprise that he's pretty sure if he was drinking something right then, he would've spat it out. He's about to answer, but he sees that flirty, seductive look in her eye and he knows what she means. And he does. So much. He loves her. But he's getting married to her in the morning! And then of course, there's implications with the school and his job.

He sucks in a breath, "Yeah, Amy, of course I like you, but..."

She nods, "I know. But there's something incredibly sexy about sneaking around with a teacher who can fuck you with his eyes, without other people realising." His Amy always said that was his hidden talent.

Rory looks down at the floor - and Amy's certain he's blushing - he doesn't look up at her when he speaks, or tries to. "Amy, I..." But he doesn't finish because he knows that an older her is going to marry him, or that she's too young for him. 18 and 22 wouldn't work out. He knows. She knows. They both know. But they both also know that the feelings that have been uncovered can't be ignored.

"C'mon, Rory..." She purrs, goading him, as she walks around him, trailing a hand around his neck and over his shoulders.

He closes his eyes, enjoying everything about this moment. Her touch, her voice, her eyes... "Amy, this isn't right."

"I've never been a fan of right." And now she is staring at him, and he finds it extremely hard to resist her. Her legs are so long, to be taller than her - but only by a few inches, but it's enough - he has to stand, so that's what he does.

Now, not only does he have to fight the urge to roam her body with his hands, but also try and ignore the sexy look she's giving him right now. "No, you haven't." He agrees, hopefully getting her to talk long enough, so he can figure out a way out, so that she doesn't kiss him, or he gives into his urges, which seems to be more favourable at the moment.

Amy brings herself closer, and he gulps down his feelings. He slides out of the way as she leans forward and stumbles on the empty desk. He feels sorry for her, he shouldn't have done that, but he needs to.

She sighs in frustration, striding towards him in a predatory fashion. "Amy, you don't understand." He tries to persuade, and with every step she takes towards him, he takes a step back.

"I don't understand?" She repeats, asking it as more as a question.

The next thing he hears is a thud and a slight pain in his back. He's up against the wall, no escape now. Dammit. She smirks. "Amy, it's complicated. Just trust me."

"Complicated?" She muses, still with that infectious smirk, "How?"

He sighs, taking a few moments to figure out what he can do and say. "Look, it's not complicated, not to me. But Amy, that's not the point. I want you, please don't misunderstand that, but I just can't." He begs, pleads with her, but she keeps advancing. And he wants to tell her he loves her, but he knows he can't and that kills him.

He knows - and he thinks she knows too - that his resolve won't hold out much longer. He wants everything; he wants her, but there's this niggling feeling - it's not her. He knows it's not. But he loves Amelia Pond, no matter what age either of them are, or what universe it is.

She takes another step. "Rory..." She growls through her teeth, her Scottish accent coming through clearly. She takes another step.

He tries to persuade her again, "Amy-" But unfortunately, she wasn't listening.

"No, Rory. If you wanted to leave you would've by now." And it occurs to him - she's right. All this crap about it not being right is a lie. He wants this, so much. It doesn't matter that he's her teacher.

He peels himself off the wall and takes the two steps toward her. "God. You're beautiful, Amy." He states, as he caresses her shoulders and arms.

He looks at her. She looks at him.

At first, for her, it was just someone who was hot, who she could kiss with no implications of a relationship. Now, though, looking at him, she can see it's more than that. And as they kiss, it's light and playful, deep and meaningful. It's a mixture of them both.

Her hands are in his hair, tugging, pulling, messing it up in all different angles. His hands are slowly moving across her body, back, abdomen, arms, shoulders, neck, hair, but nowhere that could compromise what was happening.

It seems like forever when they pull away. She rests her forehead against his. Her hands rest at the base of his neck, playing with the hair there, something that drives him crazy. His hands rest on her hips, keeping her body pressed against his. It's a warmth neither of them want to lose.

She nods at him like she knows what he's thinking. "I know. This can't go any further." He knows, too. But he wants to. Because she's his fiancé, but not and if he keeps thinking about this, he's going to get a headache. So he decides to live in this moment.

He listens to her breathing, his eyes glistening over her body. Her eyes are closed, so she can't see him. He kisses her slowly and softly. "You need to go. Lunch'll be over soon."

She nods, understanding, but neither of them move. Their sweet bliss is quickly becoming over. She kisses him quickly, before letting him go. She grabs her bag and turns to leave, standing in the doorway, "See you next time, Sir?" He smirks as she winks then leaves.

When Mr Williams walks into the classroom the following day, he has a massive smile on his face. All he keeps thinking about is his kisses with Amy and how they made him feel. The pressure of her lips, the softness, the warmth. Everything. He whistles to himself as he works on his lesson plans. School doesn't start for another hour, and he knows Amy won't turn up to school until the last minute. He has her the last session of the day. He hopes he can wait that long. He doesn't think he can.

He hears a knock at his door; he's surprised, he didn't expect any visitors this early in the morning. "Come in."

The door creaks open wide enough for a figure to slip through. "Hello, Sir." He'd know that voice anywhere, the Scottish accent is a big clue, though.

"Miss Pond," He greets, standing up. "I didn't expect to see you this early in the morning." Rory chuckles to himself, he's surprised she would get up early for him.

She smiles slightly at him, "Always the tone of surprise." She moves toward him, "I know I'm seeing you in class later, but I couldn't stop myself from seeing you now."

He smirks, joking, "I do have that effect on women."

"Yeah, you do." She agrees, again with that smile and those eyes... God, so tantalising.

"Flattery will get you somewhere, Miss Pond." He walks towards her and gathers her in his arms and she buries her face in his neck. He takes a long breath, because he knows this won't work - not as long as he's her teacher. "I told you this couldn't go any further."

She chuckles, and her voice is slightly muffled by his neck, her breath tickling him. "Yet, you're the one keeping me close."

He looks down at the floor and pulls away. "Sorry."

"I know. But that doesn't mean I want this to stop." She replies.

They both want whatever they've got to work, but there are many complications, like their status - student and teacher - but he'll be gone in a few days, so they just have to keep it up until then. Then there's the other woman in his life, Amy knows he's got one, how could he not? And she knows he's in love with her - it's obvious - but something tells her that their relationship at the moment isn't going smoothly.

"Nor do I, Amy. But it has to." He agrees, sitting back down in his chair, kicking the ground to spin around once.

She stares at him, then puts her hands on the chair to stop him spinning away from her, "Why?" When she asks the one word question she has that sultry fire in her eyes.

He wants to kiss her again, to never stop, but somehow he resists. His voice sounds tired when he answers, "Because you make me forget my responsibilities, and I swore I would never leave her."

Amy sits in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. She can't joke about this - he's weighed down by the burden he chose to take on. She decides she needs to help him, "Tell me about her. I promise I won't tell anyone or ask any questions."

He nods, because he tells people often enough that talking helps. So he clears his throat as he begins, "I shot her. So to help I swore to protect her for 2,000 years, in a box, the Pandorica. I love her, but I can't do anything until she gets released. I can't apoligize, I can't feel her breath on my face, her touch, see her eyes look at me, hear her call my name, how it seemed to roll off her tongue so easily. I can't kiss her, I can't... Love her. I can't tell her I love her. And that kills me. But you, you are so much like her, you make me forget that she's in the box, needing to be protected, and not here in my arms."

She kisses him, not just because she wants to, but because he needs it. He looks like he's about to crumble. She keeps kissing him, and playing with his hair, and he keeps kissing her and his hands don't stop moving, from her hair to her back, but never any lower. But soon they have to separate because they are both deprived of oxygen and school will start soon, so they need to make themselves look presentable.

She's ready to leave, and that's when he takes hold of her hand and kisses it lightly. "Thank you. I needed that." And then he lets her go.

The next time they meet is when she walks through the door for their last classes of the day. They don't need to learn much more, and Miss Farthingwell is getting better, so he should be gone by the end of next week. He spends the lesson teaching them about the myth of the Last Centurion. Mels smirks at him, and so does Amy. For the last 20 minutes, the boys are re-enacting a 'really famous battle' that they can't name and the girls are gushing about how hot Romans are - specifically the Last Centurion. All of them, except Mels who looks disgusted. He can't figure out why.

Then Amy decides to join him in the conversation. He freezes. He knows she knows who he is. "What do you think about the Last Centurion, Sir?"

He moves to sit on the corner of his desk, his left leg swinging idly as all the girls faces turn toward him. "I think it takes a lot of guts to pledge to protect a box for almost 2,000 years. What do you think, Miss Pond?"

She answers almost immediately, "I think it wasn't the box he wanted to protect, but something inside it." Amy stated matter-of-factly.

"Hmm," Rory rubs his chin in thought, "And what do you suppose he was protecting?"

She smirks at him. She wants to see him squirm. "Someone he loved, definitely. A girlfriend, maybe?"

"What makes you say that?" His eyes beg, plead with her not to continue.

She is determined to do this. "Can you pull up the painting again, please, Sir?" He obliges, going to his computer and tapping a few keys, pulling the painting up in full screen. "See the effort it takes to pull a box that big? It must've meant a lot to him, otherwise he would've given up. Also, the determination on his face." She smirks at him.

He nods, "You've obviously done your research, Miss Pond."

She smiles proudly. "I trust my sources." She winks at him and he has to gulp down the nervousness and the want.

He checks his watch. 2:57. "OK, everyone, pack up,"

Just as before, Amy lingers as he gets rid of the PowerPoint off the board and shuts down his computer. He notices she's painted her nails red, today. Damn. He knows what that means in Amy language. Determination. He hopes that it's not for him, but he knows it is and he's all too happy. "Anything you need, Miss Pond?"

"God, it's so sexy when you call me Miss Pond." She's smirking at him, and he's trying to be professional, but she's already making it hard.

He breathes out. He can't keep doing this, but he can't stop himself and he usually has big willpower, but when it comes to Amy, his willpower shrinks considerably. "Anything you need?" He repeats, taking his favourite seat in the middle of the class.

She stalks towards him, slowly. "Yes."

How the hell is he meant to resist her? "What?" He has to keep his resolve up, for as long as he can, but with her, it's incredibly short.

She licks her lips, "I want you to tell me more about the Last Centurion."

She's close enough now that he can reach out to her and pull her to him. He somehow resists the urge. "What do you want to know?"

She wants to know about his other person he loves. She circles around him, lightly trailing a finger around the base of his neck. "Why did you do it?"

"Because I love her." He keeps his answers short. He figures that's one part he can control.

"Surely she would have been safe enough in a box nobody could open?"

"Yeah, but she was safer because I stayed with her."

"Was she pretty?"

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Miss Pond." He knows what she's doing, and he finds it funny she's jealous of herself.

She closes her eyes. She's getting agitated because she isn't getting anywhere. And she shouldn't have told her what effect his nickname for her has. "Was she pretty to you?"

He smirks, he can use this to his advantage. "She's the most stunning girl I have ever laid eyes on and no girl has ever compared." He knows she's about to become angry, then bawl so he acts quickly. "Except you, Miss Pond."

She's now stopped tracing shapes - and digging her nails in - on his back and is completely still. He keeps still, too. He's given her the information, all she has to do is figure out what to do with the it.

Amy moves around to face him. She looks at him, asking him silently if he's telling the truth. He nods once and she sits down in his lap for the second time that day and then she's kissing him fiercely with the fire, desire, and want that only she's got.

They keep kissing and they don't stop, everything has been said a thousand times, so now all that's left is action. Soon his tongue asks for entrance and she accepts, then their tongues battle for dominance and hers wins.

They kiss for a little longer, before separating and resting their foreheads together. "That was..." Amy starts, but doesn't know how to finish so he does.

"Long overdue." He laughs, his hands still in her hair. "Look, Amy, Miss Farthingwell should be back in a week. If you can wait until then, these feelings will be gone."

She's shocked, that wasn't what she thought he was going to say. "I don't want these feelings gone."

"Did you really think a relationship could work between us?"

Amy looks down, "No..."

He nods, "Exactly. We were just giving into lust, that's all." He kisses her head, "You know I'm in love with someone else."

"I know."

"I know this is horrible, and that I shouldn't have strung you along. But I promise, years from now, you'll understand everything about this." He lifts her off him, "I'll still be around, and if you really need to, I'll be here. But I don't think you will." He points out the window to where a younger Rory has just rocked up from his shift at the hospital.

Amy puts on her brave face as her teacher kisses for a last time and she relishes it. He genuinely smiles; happy for her. After all, he's helping to get his future on the right track. Amy grabs her bag and stands in the doorway, knowing that when she walks out that door, this is it for them. "Hey, Amy?" She whips her head around to face him, and he continues, "You're not mad. I believe you. The Doctor is real." She beams at him, happy another person - beside Rory and Mels - believes her. He winks at her through the window as she hugs the Rory in the car park.

There you go! I hope you enjoyed! Maybe take a moment to review? Because the reason I haven't been on so long is because only my sister liked my writing. Maybe if I get enough reviews, I'll post an AU I've been working on, where Amy is stuck in a mental ward for biting four physiatrists and Rory looks after her?

Anyway, until next time. See you later.

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