"Uh, Amy, please explain to me again how he managed to persuade you this time?" Rory asked, as the Doctor sprinted around the outside of the console. Rory swore he was trying to do it just to look like an action hero, and in fact, he probably didn't need to do this at all. Just some effect to make him look cooler.

Amy looked up at Rory, and shook her head. To be honest, she didn't really know what she was doing here. But after watching someone you love get killed by a astronaut that came out of a lake, burn his body, and then see him clear as day a hour later, you kind of got to make a exception.

The Doctor, still in his own world, shouted out, "So, Rory the Roman, and Amelia The Pond...No, Amelia The Pond doesn't really work, sorry. You'll just have to be...uh..."

"Maybe just Amelia Pond?"

"Yes, yes, yes, Amy! That is a glorious name — why didn't I think of that myself? Miss Just Amelia Pond...amazing!"

Amy sighed. The Doctor was such a character — if she didn't know him herself, she probably wouldn't believe he was real. This proved EXACTLY why all those kids didn't those many years ago.

Rory piped up, "Um, Doctor? Where are we going exactly?"

"Going? Going? Oh, of course you'll want to know where were going! Well, I thought first we'd got to the Sector 45 Of The Sky, then explore the mighty jungle of Gahoon, maybe if we have time stop by at Ms Reddingtons for a cup of tea..."

Rory breathed slowly through his nose. He hated it when the Doctor went off on rants like this — he could probably go on forever like this, and the worst thing was, Amy was all into it. This was her perfect fantasy world. She loved the Doctor — loved his eccentric manner, loved travelling through time and space.

He began to wander off down another corridor along the TARDIS — he wouldn't
be missed.

Sometimes he had those horrible, almost jealous feeling about the Doctor — after all, Amy was his wife! But she seemed to spend more time worrying about the mad man in this bloomin' mad box!

As his anger rose, he banged his head against a door. Rory swore — he was sure that it hadn't been there two seconds ago. Frustrated, Rory slammed his hand against the door. It then went onto swing open slowly, letting out a small creak. As it opened, a slight light stretched out, lighting up the floor beneath him. Curious, Rory slipped himself carefully through the gap. It may seem nosy, but...he was curious. And annoyed. So there.

Before entering any further, Rory paused. Maybe Amy was now looking for him — maybe the Doctor was too. Or maybe they were just too busy. The battle in his head siding with the latter finally persuaded him to go on in.

Tripping over his foot entering, Rory hit the floor with a bang. Whilst he picked himself up and brushing himself down, he noticed he was in a very different room to any in the TARDIS. A rug lay on the floor, a flicker of fire in a fireplace, a picture of an old man above the mantelpiece, and lots and lots of shelves hanging on the walls. More curious than ever, Rory began to search on top of these shelves. Tons of things littered these shelves, and half of it Rory was sure the Doctor didn't need. A set of poker cards, a lottery ticket to a date in 2010, half a jelly baby, and a tin of custard. Rory snorted. This defiantly reminded him of the Doctor. There was also a Dalek periscope, a Silurian mask, and a key with a label marked 'To The Wardrobe.' Rory picked this up with a laugh. Wardrobe? If the Doctor had a wardrobe, why would he always wear the same suit? Or maybe he had multiples of the same. An image suddenly appeared to Rory, the Doctor standing in briefs, searching for something new to wear, when they were all the same. This amused him slightly, although he wasn't sure why.

When he reached the end of the shelve, there was only one more item in the room to look at. It lay on the armchair — a vintage one — sat directly in the middle. It bore the word 'Diary.' Rory clenched up. Maybe he should leave it — after all, it was the Doctor's PRIVATE study. But he couldn't help himself. He had to know what the Doctor thought about.

Half hour later and Rory was bored. There was nothing really interesting in here — notes like 'Yummy. Ate dinner with a tiger — lovely steak!' or 'Must check out Galaxy 49's Gardening Competition..." — it was full of rubbish.

But then there was something. Rory didn't notice it at first — he only noticed it at all because it was marked in a different ink. Unlike all the other biro scribbles, this was written in, well, an ink as red as blood. This ink looked fresh, and the wet still hanged to the opposite page. The writing was untidy — Rory had trouble reading, squinting his eyes. But eventually he figured it out. And what he was reading, he did not like. Not one little bit.

Then the lights went out.