Flesh And Stone

Rory POV

I stepped out of the TARDIS into my fiancé's bedroom, "Woah! I'm never going to get used to that!" I mutter, and Amy must have heard me because she laughs, "What?"

"You!" She puts her hand to her mouth, in an attempt to stop her laughing, and fails miserably.

"What about me?" I ask getting annoyed.

She goes to the TARDIS and imamates me, "Woah! I'm never going to get used to that!" She says in her best Rory voice and best Rory walk. She's then laughing and soon I'm laughing too.

"I don't walk like that!" I defend myself.

"Where's the Doctor?" She asks me, suddenly serious.

I shrug my shoulders, "I dunno, probably fixing something in that bloody time machine of his."

"Oh, typical bloke, straight to fixing his motor." Amy sighs. I laugh at my fiancés stereotype.

I suddenly turn serious as I remember what just happened. "Amy, we just nearly died."

"Yeah." She says, as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

"It makes you think, doesn't it? I never really believed in the whole 'life flashed before my eyes' phrase but I could say its true, but it wasn't my whole life though, just a particular person." I smile as my eyes land on this beautiful woman.

"Yeah, it made me think, too. Rory I thought about-"

"Us? It's OK; I won't make you say it. You don't wanna marry me anymore, right? It's the Doctor, yeah? It's just we'll lose the deposit on the village hall, and the salsa band." I sigh, and stop my pacing.

I was so stupid, how could she love me, really? She had her raggedy Doctor - at long last - she didn't need me. I was just a constellation prize. I didn't want to be, but we weren't meant to be, fate had different plans for both of us. Our paths intertwined, crossed, but never joined. Destined to be just forever friends. Destined to be with other people. Her with her best friend – I thought I was her best friend but I was just a friend - The Doctor. I, on the other hand, am meant to be with someone else, that I haven't met yet.

"Rory Arthur Williams! Shut up!" Amy yells, and my head snaps up at the sound of her voice, I meet her eyes, the only eyes I will ever get lost in, I try to pull away, to fight them, but every time I do, they just pull me back in, but I wouldn't have it any other way, except maybe to have her love me, but it wouldn't be real.

"Oi!" She slaps me on the arm.

"OW!" I screech. "That hurt!" It didn't really, (it really did) but I love it when she gets angry, then defensive.

"Well then, stop spacing out on me when I'm trying to talk to you!" She shouts, her voice sounding like an angels. "And don't interrupt me, either!"

"Sorry." I mumble, barely audible.

"Good. Now, as I was saying I thought about us and how I haven't always shown you I love you, even though I do. So,-"

"Amy, I-"

"I said don't interrupt me! So, Rory, I wanted to say, I love you. And I've never been surer that I want to marry you in the morning."

"Amy, I'm sorry. I never should have doubted you. Amy, everyone has different ways of showing affection, I know the way you show yours. You don't need to say I love you to mean you love me. 'Cause I already know that you love me. Every smile you gave me, every time you held my hand, every insulting name you ever called me, it always meant something. You've spent so long hiding parts of yourself from other people you think that nobody knows you, but I know you, Amy, better than you do. I love you, too."

I take a breath, ready for more hitting, instead she kisses me and it feels like I've got so much pain in my head, - good pain, though, like when you stretch after being scrunched up for a long time - I'm about to explode. Every time she kisses me it gets better, like everyone's putting dynamite in my head. I take this kiss further as she slams me up agianst the TARDIS (I forgot that was there) and tangle my fingers in her amazingly beautiful orange hair.

"You know, I think it's unlucky for the groom to see the bride the night before the wedding." She chuckles at my superstition.

"I've never been one for superstition." She says, kissing me again.

"Scottish." Is the last thing I say before we spend the night defeating vampires (fish from space) in Venice.

From that moment on I never doubted the love that I felt for her, or the love she felt for me.