DISCLAIMERS/NOTES

1. This is a fan fiction based on characters owned by the BBC. I DO NOT OWN THEM. This is just for fun.

2. This is a femslash story. If you don't like that sort of thing, you won't like this.

PART 2

By noon the next day, things were still bad.

Amy and Clara had barely seen eachother, let alone talked. Breakfast was spent separately, as was their usual non-work daytime activities. Clara retreated back to the spare room to finish her school grading, while Amy sat outside in the garden trying to read a book. Obviously, it was a fruitless endeavour.

Amy stared blankly at the words on the page, as she endlessly replayed yesterday's events in her mind. How could this have happened? How could things get so bad, so quickly? Sure, she and Clara had fights - every couple did - but this was different. This was deeper. It was about what they fundamentally wanted in life.

And all Amy Pond wanted was Clara Oswald. How could she not? The teacher was the most perfect and beautiful woman to ever live, or would live. Amy knew there could not be anyone else as wonderful as the Impossible Girl in all time and space. Sure, she had loved Rory, but what she felt for Clara was beyond words. The two belonged together.

Or so Amy thought. But if Clara's wants and needs, if her plans for their married life were so different from the Scot's... were they really destined to be together? The idea was instantly repulsive to Amy: after everything they went through, all the trouble and turmoil, they deserved happiness. And Amy was never happier than since she fell for the teacher.

What was Clara playing at, though? Amy treasured her time with the Doctor as much as Clara, and would be an idiot to not acknowledge the only reason they met was through the Time Lord. But to spend the rest of their lives travelling with him? Did Clara really want that? Was Amy truly not enough for her?

The things they said to eachother... God, Amy could not believe it. She never thought they could say such hurtful things. And it only continued come morning. Clara was up first - as always - but Amy noticed no cup of tea made for her when she woke. Clara made sure she was gone, breakfast done by the time Amy emerged from the bedroom. And when the teacher returned to the kitchen, it was just to put away her cup and plate. No words were said as they passed eachother, but the silence spoke volumes. Each could still see the hurt and anger in the other's eyes.

It seemed a stalemate was reached, and both needed a cooling down period before trying to rectify things again. But instead, as is often the case, the silent treatment following such a fight only bred more resentment. Clara made some snide comment about Amy's jobsearching; Amy sniped back with something concerning Clara's cooking. Though both women knew they did not mean such insults, it was clear they still felt the need to lash out at the other.

But it was Clara's fault! How could she not see the fact Amy just wanted a nice, simple life with the woman she loved? Why could Clara not let the Doctor go? What did Amy have to do?!

The Doctor never divulged specific knowledge of the future, and any questions the two young women had - how big would their wedding be, how long would they live for, would they have children - went unanswered. That was for the best, Amy knew, but what if the Doctor did not say anything, because he knew they would not end up happily ever after?

A chill went down Amy's spine. The sheer thought of not being with Clara terrified her.

Enough. With determination Amy slammed her book shut and got to her feet, heading back into the bungalow. This had gone on long enough. One way or another, they were going to sort this, now. Amy would make Clara see sense, even if it took the rest of the weekend.

After Amy closed the door leading to the garden and was about to storm into the spare room, however, the home was filled with an ever-familiar sound. The Scot groaned again: no, please - not now.

Also hearing the tell-tale grinding, Clara stepped out of her hiding place just in time to see the blue police box materialise in their living room once more. The two women shared a look, a look full of confusion and worry. It was like he sensed their turmoil through the fourth dimension, and was drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

Both Amy and Clara knew this was the worst time for him to visit. For Amy, it tested her faith in Clara. In Clara, it tested her loyalties...

The doors opened and the grey-haired Doctor poked his head out. "Thank heavens you're here. You... "

"Now is really not the time," interrupted Amy. "Whatever you want will have to wait." She chanced a glance at Clara: if the Impossible Girl made one step towards the box, so help her...

He blinked: Amy never used that tone with him. There was no hint of mirth in her voice at all. "Girls, you don't understand... "

"I mean it, Doctor," the Scot clarified. "This is a really, really bad time... "

"Amy, please just listen. You both have to come back with me." He appeared harried in a way neither woman saw before.

Clara spoke up. "What's wrong?"

"DON'T," Amy snapped at her. "DON'T ask. Not now, for fuck's sake. Seriously." She turned her attention back to their eccentric visitor. "Y'know, for a Time Lord, you always have a really lousy sense of timing. You honestly could not have picked a worst... "

"Pond!" he shrieked, and she snapped her mouth shut at that. Unlike his previous incarnation, this Doctor - the twelfth, apparently - only ever used her surname sparingly, so when he did so...

"What then?" gasped Amy. "C'mon, out with it? What's so important that you just had to butt into our lives again?!"

The Doctor looked her right in the eye. "It's Rory."

TO BE CONTINUED