I don't yet own Doctor Who, i'm just borrowing the characters.
Enjoy!
:)
Missing Pieces.
He walked along a corridor, a white door stood at the end. Opening it he found their room, just as they had left it. A set of mahogany bunk beds, pink and blue bedding, cream carpeted floors. Pictures everywhere -oh- so many pictures. God, humans loved pictures. Pictures of him and Amy, of Rory and Amy, of the three of them. The smallest one, hanging on the wall of the bottom bunk caught his eye; Amy stood grinning into the camera, her arms round Rory and himself. He was standing with his mouth open in excitement, pointing at something in the distance whilst Rory was looking at something to the right, frowning slightly...
Her thick Scottish voice was loud and clear, 'Okay, so we're on a planet where three eyed aliens take photos using their eyes and then sick them out and sell you them- not quite what you said we were going to do, Doctor.' She laughed gleefully, pulling him and Rory closer, grinning at an alien nearby. Rory was staring in awe at a one of the aliens down the road.
'Is it just me, or does that woman look like she had a smaller green blob thing inside her?' he asked in disbelief.
The Doctor sighed, 'Yes Rory, she's pregnant. It's not her fault!'
'Um, and see through, you forget to mention see through. Why do you always forget to mention the weird things?'
The Doctor looked away, seeing a patch of orange grass. His mouth opened with excitement.
'Look! Orange grass!' he exclaimed.
There was a bright flash, followed by the smell of sick...
He sighed, stepping backwards. His shoe touched a potted plant- a withered pink flower...
'Mood flowers!' he exclaimed, picking one up, throwing it to Amy. As soon as it touched her fingertip it glowed pink, 'Whatever mood you're in, touch the plant and it amplifies it a thousand times! Amy, how do you feel?'
She paused, frowning slightly, 'I feel... exited! Very, very exited!' she started jumping up and down happily, laughing as she did so, almost dropping the plant.
He turned back to the stall, inspecting a rather suspicious looking fish.
'Doctor, um, Amys jumping a lot higher than she should be able to. I mean a lot higher, Doctor?'...
His eyes fell on an object sitting on a leather chair, a book. A yellow 'cooking for an alien' book. He smiled sadly.
'Cunook!' he exclaimed, spinning round to face Amy and Rorys confused gazes, 'Planet of food! Everything is made of food, literally, everything! The clouds are made of pink candyfloss and the sun is made of sherbet lemons, you walk on blueberry grass or a banana brick road. The trees are made of twiglets and in the summer marmite apples blossom on the branches- marmite apples! The lakes and seas are made from custard and the people- HA! The people are made from sugar! Some of the sweetest people in the galaxy... Although, mind you, quite a bitter aftertaste... And no sense of humour...'
He stepped backwards, towards the door. He took one last glance inside before he shut it. He walked back down the corridor, down the stairs, he stood beside the console. Turning to face it he flicked a switch, grimacing. The TARDIS whirred to life.
'Come on then, sexy. Take me somewhere new.'