Half an hour had gone by before the couple stopped crying and embracing. Sam had bought them both a coffee and sat them down on a park bench. As they drank the contents and huddled with each other, Sam began to ask them questions. "How'd you do that?"
"Do what?" Amy said, sniffing.
"You know! You just appeared. Outta thin air, right in front of us!"
"You wouldn't believe us." Rory had muttered. "What's the date?"
"Uh…" Sam said, taking the newspaper he had bought with the coffees from under his arm. "September 5th today."
"Year?" Rory said.
"Year? Why, it's 1927!"
Amy looked up suddenly, sharing a confused look with her husband. "1927? But we destroyed the angels in the 30s!" Sam stared at the two, not understanding a word they said. Maybe it was a British phrase.
Rory shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe the angel was weak, flung us back to early. I suppose it could've taken us anywhere, anywhen. The Doctor said they take people back to a random time in history. Perhaps it was just chance they we landed back near the same time as before."
"The Doctor would know." Amy had whispered, thinking back to her friend. That last glimpse of him she would ever see as she said the last words to him she would ever say… Raggedy man, goodbye… And the look on his face, the tears and the agony filling his eyes, and then he was gone. She would never see that man again. Who she kissed on the night before her wedding, who she fought Silence and Daleks and Silurians with, who she cared for so much. She wondered how he spent the rest of his life. If it was just years, or centuries. But now, he was both alive all the time, and dead forever.
And so their new life had begun. They learned to accept that they would stay in the 20th century and found an apartment. They got jobs and clothes. They became ordinary. No more adventures.

Three years later, Rory found himself running down a set of red velvet stairs following his wife, who galloped ahead of him with unnatural speed. "Amy, stop! Slow down!" he called, as Amy pushed through a set of double doors with the words 'PUBLIC – NO ENTRY' painted on it. Rory stopped at the bottom of the stairs, putting his hands on his knees, panting loudly. A few moments later, an equally tired Sam joined him, his chest heaving.
"How the hell did she run so fast?" he asked, slumping down on the bottom step.
"From traveling with the Doctor, I think." he panted. "Right, c'mon." he sighed, walking towards the double doors.
"Oh no, you're kidding Rory!" Sam moaned. "I just sat down!"
"We need to get after her before she gets herself into trouble!" Rory insisted, pushing the doors open. There was no sign of Amy, just a lightly lit corridor full of boxes overflowing with costumes and props. One of the overhead lights flickered slightly, casting small shadows on the boxes. Rory set off into a slow jog, not capable of running any faster. After a handful of creative curses spilled from Sam's mouth, the New Yorker hauled himself up and jogged after Rory.

It didn't take long for Amy to find what she had been looking for. Most of the devil-dressed women were crowded around an open door, peering inside. Amy could hear someone inside sobbing, as another consoled her. Quietly, Amy walked to the edge of the small crowd of dancers.
Inside the room, Tallulah was crouched on the floor, a suited man rubbing her shoulders, whispering reassuring words. On the floor in front of her was the remnants of a smashed vase splattered with specs of blood. "Where's my Laszlo? Please, please, somebody find my Laszlo!"
"You saw him last!" one of the dancers piped up.
"Yeah, when you were canoodlin' and kissin' him before the show!" another said.
In response, Tallulah cried louder, trying to form words that just came out as wails.
"Is anyone else missing?" Amy suddenly said.
Everyone shot around with a gasp. "Who are you?" one of the dancers asked inquisitively.
"Yeah, public ain't allowed backstage!" another chimed up.
It was at times like this that Amy wished she had psychic paper. Instead, she had to resort to plain old lying. "Pond. Amelia Pond." she said, in the poshest British accent she could. "I'm a journalist from England. I'm here to write a story about the new sensation taking over New York. Although apparently there's a much more interesting story here." Amy wished she had a notepad and pen.
The suited man stood up, pushing past the dancers who gasped and shuffled to the sides. "All of you but Tallulah, go get changed." he ordered, not looking away from the red-haired woman standing chin-out in front of him. Once all the dancers had reluctantly left, the man asked, "And who let you in?"
"You are?" Amy retorted.
"I so happen to be the boss of this place. George Prinz. You mighta heard of me?" he said, pointing his thumb to his chest.
Fully aware that this may be a test, Amy decided to dodge this question. "Whether I know who you are or not does not matter. I'm here to talk to Tallulah about her act, not to the owner of a particular theatre. Excuse me." she said, pushing Prinz aside. "Tallulah?" Amy asked quietly, bending down beside the angelic woman. "Can we talk in private?"
Sniffling, she looked up, her cheeks stained with tears. She nodded, murmuring a 'yeah' to Amy. Amy looked up to the grumpy boss standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. "You heard the lady, close the door!" Grumbling and huffing, Prinz slammed the door shut.
"Right then," Amy smiled, pulling up a chair for them both, crossing one leg over the other. "tell me, when did you last see Laszlo?"
"Don't you have a notepad?" Tallulah asked quietly.
Amy sighed to herself, wondering what she was getting herself in to.

In the early Spring of 1930, the largest creation in the world began to rise up into the skyline. Day after day, men slaved away constructing the huge project, working gruelling eighteen hour days with little pay, seven days a week. The Pond's watched it happen from their small apartment tucked into a tall apartment block, from day one. By the time Autumn had ripped the leaves from the trees and the temperature had plummeted, the feat was outstanding in the skyline.
"It's gon' be the tallest building in the world!" Sam had boasted proudly. "Here, in the U.S, in New York!"
"There'll be taller." Rory had responded simply, with a smile.
"No way!"
"Oh, yeah. In less than a hundred years from now, there'll be building's twice as tall. By the 25th and 26th century… well, it's certainly a great achievement for the early 20th century." Rory said.
Sam chose to ignore his teasing friend. "God, there must be a genius behind all of this! I mean, who could think of something like this in 'the early 20th century'?" he had said, mocking Rory's accent.
Rory shrugged.
The pair had then looked on to the building drenched in moonlight, blissfully unaware of who the true genius' behind the Empire State Building really were.

"Before I went out to perform, I gave my Laszlo a kiss and then joined the others. I left him in the dressing room and thought nothing of it, just another night of business, you know? But-" a grating cry left Tallulah's throat. "but then, when I came back, he wasn't waiting for me. He always waits for me, that's the thing! And then I saw the smashed vase and the blood… it was like there'd been a fight! Please, Miss Pond, oh please could you help me find him? I-I'm so worried!" Tallulah erupted back into tears, placing her head in her hands. Her makeup ran down her face with the tears as she shook.
"Listen," Amy said, swallowing. "I'm not a police officer, I'm just a journalist."
"Well is there anyone you know who could help me find my Laszlo?" Tallulah pleaded.
Amy looked down. "I knew someone once. He owned a police box, too." she said with a sad smile.
"Oh, why don't you ask him, then? Is he a detective? Or just a police man?"
"Actually, he's a doctor."
The room was silent, save for Tallulah's occasional sniffles. Amy tried to push the thought away, that gnawing sadness that was beginning to build again, like it had earlier that evening. The Doctor was gone, he was never coming back, she'll never hear from him agai–
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She jumped, looking up quickly at the door behind her, a small part of her expecting to see the floppy-haired Time Lord waiting there, his bowtie placed evenly over his top button. "Uh, come in?" she called uncertainly.
The door swung open, and there stood Prinz, holding Sam and Rory roughly by the shoulders. The boss was chewing gum, hands twitching. "These two with you, I'm guessin'? They say they were looking for a ginger lady."
Amy nodded. "They're with me." she sighed.
Prinz huffed, pushing the two forward into the room. "I'm going for a cigarette." he said, his yellowing fingers itching at his sides. And with that, he was gone.
Rory walked forwards towards Amy's chair with a relieved sigh. "Oh, thank goodness you're here, Amy! Don't do that again!"
Amy shrugged him off as he attempted to hug her. "Not when I'm working," she said, glaring at her husband.
"Working?"
"Yes," Amy growled under her breath, staring wide eyed at Rory, wishing he'd take a hint.
Thankfully, he did. "Ah. Yes. You're working. As?"
"A journalist?" Amy said. Tallulah looked between the two, confused.
"Wow, kissogram's are getting more varied in their costumes these days." Rory muttered. Amy slapped him on the arm, standing as she did so.
Sam laughed slightly in the corner, slumped against the door, panting.
"Listen," Amy said, grabbing a newspaper and a small pen off of Tallulah's desk. She wrote her telephone number on it, before ripping the paper and passing it to the shaken dancer. "this is my… work number. Ask for Amelia Pond, if you need me. Okay?"
Tallulah nodded rapidly, taking the number. "Thank you, Amelia." she said, as Amy made for the door.
"Call me Amy." she responded with a smile. Tallulah smiled back. "Come on, Sam!" she shouted from the corridor as she began to make her way out.
Sam moaned, struggling to stand. "Have mercy!" he yelled, swaggering after his friends, wiping his upper brow. He turned back to the young dancer, tipping his sweating hat. "Was lovely to meet you, Miss Tallulah. Good day."
And with that, the peculiar trio disappeared back into the night.

Chapter Three is set three weeks later, when Tallulah is confronted by a peculiar young man and his companion. (wink, wink)