I don't own Doctor Who. Enjoy, and drop me a review!

It was one of those nights- well, not really, as there was no day or night in the TARDIS; Rory was judging by his digital wristwatch, which told him that it was 10:30 p.m. back home. He wasn't sure of the time zone one would be in when one was hurtling through the time vortex. But, day or night, it was one of those long, unsleepable hours the Doctor had assigned Rory. "You need your rest, Roranicus," he had said, cracking a tired, half-hearted smile. Rory had long since stopped wondering whether the Time Lord himself slept at all after stumbling across him conked out on a couch in what he supposed was a mockup of the Gallifreyan equivalent of a sitting room. It figured that even an alien like him would be exhausted after what was probably weeks spent looking across time and space for a woman Rory suspected they both loved- though not, he sincerely hoped, in the same way.

Rory rolled over in what was usually his and Amy's bed and stared at their bedroom door. Maybe a glass of water would help him sleep. It probably wouldn't, but at least them he could convince himself he'd tried everything. He slid his feet out from under the covers and into his slippers. He stood upright and cracked his neck, yawning as he pulled his bathrobe on over his t-shirt and boxers. He opened the door and stepped into the TARDIS's corridor. He passed by the doors to the pool, a storeroom, and several closets before reaching the one that led to the kitchen- well, one of them, at least. He opened the door and came to an abrupt standstill. He was standing in Amy's old bedroom in England.

Rory blinked. There was her bed, her closet, her desk- everything looking exactly as it had when they'd both been teenagers. Rory walked in hesitantly, absurdly half-expecting Amy to suddenly appear perched on her bed, chatting to him and their friend Mels about some unimportant school gossip. "Why here?" he asked to no one in particular. "Why'd she ask for this time and place to be recreated?" And then it was as though his eyes were drawn by some invisible force to a certain picture on her desk. In it, he saw himself and Amy sitting hand in hand on a park bench, laughing at something off-camera, Amy's head resting on his shoulder, and he suddenly knew exactly when she had requested the TARDIS to remind her of. Her bedroom had looked exactly like this a month after they had started dating.

Without warning, Rory's eyes started stinging. He needed to get out of this room, and fast. He stumbled out of the doorway, and through the correct door into the kitchen. He was mildly surprised to see that the Doctor was already seated at the table in the center of the room, lost in thought, the mug of tea in his hands cooling slowly. He turned, his expression at first one of surprise, then of worry. "Rory?" he said, standing so quickly that he overturned his mug. "What's wrong? Are you all right?" He gently brushed away one of the tears Rory had let slide down his cheek. "What happened?"

"I-" Rory choked back small sob. "I went in through the wrong door and I found a room Amy had replicated from her old bedroom back home and there was a picture of us and she's gone, Doctor, and I don't know what I'll do if we don't find her."

A wave of emotion seemed to wash over the Doctor's face, and then he pulled Rory into a tight hug. Rory was shocked into silence for all of two seconds, then he just let it all go, sobbing into the Doctor's shoulder. "Shh, shh, it's alright. Don't worry, we'll find her. I swear to you, Rory, I will find Amelia Pond if it's the last thing I do. It'll be okay, Rory, I promise." The Doctor smoothed back Rory's hair, murmuring reassurances as the latter's sobs receded into hiccups and the occasional sniffle. They simply stood there, in the middle of the kitchen, for what seemed like ages. Finally, the Doctor gently lifted Rory's head off his now tear-stained, jacketed shoulder and looked into his eyes. For the first time, it occurred to Rory just how old the other's eyes were. "We will get her back, Rory Pond. That I promise."

Then, gently, slowly, carefully, he pressed his lips to Rory's.

It took a while for the latter's senses to return, and when they did, the Doctor had pulled back, eyes searching Rory's nervously as Rory pressed his fingers to his own lips in disbelief. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I did that-" He ran his fingers through his hair-

i-that stupid floppy hair-/i

And suddenly, Rory was grabbing him by the bow tie, the stupid little red bow tie his wife had always hated, and he was kissing him, really, properly kissing him, and it was all tongue and teeth and want and need and guilt and quickly, get the rid of the braces and shirt and then he still doesn't know for sure, even to this day, but he thinks the TARDIS created the room on the spot, just for them, and they were inside and he was pushing the Doctor backwards onto the bed that had appeared out of nowhere, and then-

And then-

i-oh, it had been too long since he'd done this, not since he'd been with Koschei, all those years ago-/i

iAmy's gonna kill him when she finds out, she really will-/i

-and they forget how to protest, how to think, how to say iit's wrong, this is wrong/i because it's not, it's right, it's iso right/i, and they lose themselves in the passion, the heat, and they don't resurface for a long, long time.

According to both Rory's wristwatch and internal clock, it was morning. He pushed himself into an upright position, groaning as he stretched his tired muscles. iGod, what did I do last night? /iHe yawned, then suddenly stopped mid-stretch as he glanced over to his side and noticed the Doctor. The first this that came into his mind was, immaturely, iOh yeah, him. /iThe second thing was the more frantic, iOh my God, oh my God, what the hell is Amy gonna say? /iThen, with another groan, he realized that he knew exactly what she'd say.

iThreesome?/i