Hey guys, you sick of me yet? Haha. Well, I'm back, with a new chapter. I sort of left it hanging a bit at the end in the last one, I can promise that it will all make sense in time.

Well, this is a little fluffier, but not as fluffy as the next one is going to be *excited*. I wrote it after a concert I went to for Lisa Mitchell (she's great, one of my favourite Australian indie artists, y'all should check out her song Neapolitan Dreams because it's an awesome song and it sort of fits). The title came from Times Fly by Georgia Fair who were the supporting group for Lisa. And I think that that's all for now :) So remember folks: rate, review, subscribe because I love it :)

*Disclaimer* None, I repeat, none, of these characters belong to me. It's just a little fun to get the stories out of my head. These characters belong to their rightful owners and whatnot. As I said, it's all fun. Enjoy!

Chapter 3 ~ Times Fly

Amy tried to avoid Sherlock as much as she could after their discovery. She only went out for groceries and essentials, but the whole time looking over her shoulder, making sure that she was fine, that she was safe. Sherlock would have scoffed at that word, 'safe', no one is ever safe, especially when they might have an alien hell-bent on destroying her friend, the Doctor, on their trail.

After that discovery, Sherlock had filled her in.

"There have been a number of cases around the UK, of girls going missing." He had said. "They've usually gone missing from populated areas like shops and parks and work. Witnesses have described it as "they were there one minute and then gone the next"." He read from the file in his hand.

"How many girls?" Amy asked.

"As many as you saw on the map, maybe more."

Amy felt sick. All these girls missing, gone god only knows where, and some of them might not have even been reported. Who would do something like that?

"Amelia, this is getting worse, if you were right about the… Location, then you're next, you need to be careful."

Amy looked up to his face. He looked concerned, but he couldn't, he was Sherlock, he didn't show emotions.

"I'll be fine." She said stubbornly.

Since then she had hardly talked to Sherlock, choosing, instead, to busy herself with mundane tasks that she knew Sherlock wouldn't like.

Of course, she knew in the back of her mind that it couldn't go on like this forever.

"Two weeks." Sherlock said as she walked into the door after getting some apples from the market.

"Two weeks?" She repeated, setting the bag down on the kitchen counter.

"We have been waiting for two weeks, but nothing has happened." She walked in after her and grabbed an apple. "Maybe you were wrong. The location pinpointed your house, but it isn't busy around here at all."

Amy felt her temperature start to rise. Of course it was her who had to be wrong, never him. There was a knock at the door, interrupting her short fit of anger. Amy went to go get it, Sherlock following close behind, but staying out of view. She opened the door to a man handing out flyers.

"Good evening mam." He greeted. Amy heard Sherlock silently scoff from behind the door. She opened it further and hit him with it while smiling at the young man in front of her. "I'm here to inform you about the festivities that are taking place this weekend." He handed her a flyer and Amy looked at it, her blood ran cold. "They say it's going to be huge, heaps of people around, the whole thing." The man had a huge smile on his face and Amy tried hard to return that smile.

"Thank you." She said and closed the door.

Sherlock immediately grabbed the flyer out of her hands and looked at it. Amy could have sworn that he went pale for a second before he composed himself again.

"Sherlock," Amy said.

"Stay in the house, don't go out of the house." He ordered. "Don't let anyone in, anyone at all, even if you know them."

He grabbed his scarf and his coat.

"Where are you going?" She asked.

"I still have some friends who know I'm not dead, you need to be protected." He started towards the back door.

Amy looked after him. "Sherlock, I'm scared." She admitted, hating herself immediately afterwards.

Sherlock had her in his arms in two long steps. He smoothed her hair and she wrapped her arms around him, feeling safe straight away. She sighed, she had missed this.

"I'll protect you, Amelia, no matter what, you will be safe."

Amy nodded and all too soon Sherlock had let go of her and gone out the backdoor into the dying sunlight.

When Amy slept that night, she didn't dream her normal dream. No, this time it was different. Instead of being tormented by her usual terrors, she found herself surrounded by sunlight and rolling hills filled with tall green grass. She didn't feel scared in this dream, instead she felt safe, like she had once felt with the Doctor, with Rory, and with Sherlock.

Awake Amy would never admit to having any sort of feelings towards Sherlock these days unless they were of annoyance or something along those lines. Asleep Amy was with Sherlock in a field, surrounded by butterflies and flowers. They were lying side by side on his coat. Their fingers intertwined as they said nothing, just lay there and stared at the sky and the clouds drifting lazily above them. Sherlock's thumb was making little circles on the back of her hand.

Amy had never felt more content in her whole life, more at peace, than when she was laying with Sherlock. They didn't even have to speak. She realised something deep within herself that she fought to supress so many years ago. She realised that she didn't need anything else; she just needed this, Sherlock next to her, his breathing matching her own, their hands the only thing that was touching. She realised how much she had missed this feeling, how much she had missed Sherlock.

Amy woke up the next morning, more rested than she had been in months. But at the same time there was a distinct ache in her chest, like she was missing something. She didn't remember her dream from the night before, or her realisation inside the dream, all she knew was that she didn't have her normal nightmare.

Sherlock was still nowhere to be found the next day, Amy shrugged it off and went about cleaning the house, but she felt the lack of his presence more than ever. Nonetheless, as per his instructions, she didn't let anyone in her house. She didn't answer the door or the phone. She essentially became a ghost.

They were starting to set up for the fair and Sherlock watched from a distance, looking for anyone who seemed out of sorts. There was no one though, no one of interest anyway. He played with the notion of going back to Amelia, but he was waiting for something first, a sign to say all was okay.

The sign came at exactly 5:08pm, Sherlock nodded at the woman who gave it to him. Upon receiving the sign he went back to Amelia straight away. She was upstairs in the shower, he noted as he slipped in through the back door and up to his room. He listened to her soft singing, smiling to himself as he remembered the way she used to sing to him when she was younger, when she was just a weird girl who dreamt of impossible things. She still did.

Sherlock got changed into the clothes that she must have left for him on the bed. He heard the door to the bathroom open and he went out to announce his return to Amelia. As he ventured out into the hallway, the first thing he was greeted with was a very angry, and naked, Amelia. Sherlock straight away turned his back, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

"I'm back." He said after he cleared his throat.

"Yes, I know." He could hear the smile in her voice.

"You're naked." He blushed harder.

"Excellent observation."

He heard her footsteps hesitate, almost as if she were going to come closer to him, but then they went back to her room. A tiny squeak as her door opened and then closed. Sherlock let go of the breath he had been holding, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the image of her, dripping wet, out of his mind. John had been wrong, everyone had been wrong. Sherlock wasn't a robot, incapable of feeling, he just hadn't met anyone who posed as much of a mystery as his impossible Amelia Pond. He went back into his room and played the violin, trying to get his mind off of the girl who had definitely grown up into a woman.