Author's Notes: Set before 'Amy's Choice'.

When she thought about it later, Amy supposed it wasn't a long wait (as waits went), but it felt worse than it was because she was so uncomfortable. Her vision was mostly limited to Rory and foliage. The ropes rubbed at her ankles and wrists, and while it wasn't cold, it was unpleasantly damp and clammy. Added to that was the ever-present worry about whether or not the Doctor knew what he was doing, and if he did know what he was doing, would it actually go without a hitch? Neither of these was a given as far as Amy was concerned and, judging by Rory's expression, he had similar misgivings.

Amy noticed that the little pieces of sky she could see were turning lighter and then she tried to distract herself by listening for any sound of a unicorn. It would have hooves, so presumably would make a horse-like noise. But how noisy did hooves sound in a forest? Did unicorns have a stealth mode? Would it realise it was walking into danger? Or was there no unicorn anyway, and if nothing turned up what the hell would their captors do to her, Rory and the Doctor? They didn't have the best of tempers in any case, and if their plan was thwarted, things were bound to get ugly.

As distractions went, this was worse than useless, Amy decided. She was desperately casting her mind about for something less discouraging to occupy her thoughts when there was a sound. A soft sound, like the whisper of a leaf. Very, very carefully, she inched forward so she could see.

There was the Doctor, moving away from the tree, through the mist and into a sudden shaft of light. Once Amy got over the initial (and totally understandable) distraction of his nudity, she saw he had a look on his face that suggested something was about to happen. There was a rustling sound and–

Oh.

Yep. That was a unicorn. A very male unicorn, strongly muscled and disconcertingly flesh and blood, high-stepping out from the misty forest, his tail flickering like quicksilver. The world seemed to hold its breath and then the creature snorted suddenly, shattering the silence. Abruptly, he lowered his head and the single spiralling horn on his crest angled forward in deadly warning at the Doctor. Which, as the Doctor would probably be the first to say, was very not good.

Amy bit her lip, the tension stretching her nerves to screaming point. Her attention was so focused on what was happening, it took her a few seconds to become aware of a sweet, musky scent in the air. Then she heard a soft sound behind her. Several soft sounds, in fact. Slowly Amy turned her head and her eyes widened. Because she was staring at legs, white and equine-shaped legs with rather odd shaggy fetlocks. She drew a deep breath and looked up.

Oh boy. Unicorns. Plural. As in lots and lots. Possibly a whole herd of unicorns, in fact. They were congregated behind the man and the Traidor, both of whom were only just realising that they each had a unicorn horn poised at their backs ready to skewer them. The looks of blind panic on their faces were a joy to behold. Amy couldn't make out what was happening with the Skrel, but she could see that neither she nor Rory were being directly menaced; in fact, the unicorns seemed to be keeping a respectful distance from them, which was very reassuring.

'I suggest you put down your weapons,' the Doctor called to the man and the Traidor. Amy glanced back just in time to see him put a friendly arm across the shoulder of the unicorn next to him. The unicorn snorted and tossed his head as if in imperious agreement. 'You see, the unicorns really don't like you, and I don't like you much either. But, unlike me, the unicorns have these horns. Long, spirally horns. Very pointy. So you need to make your next moves carefully.'

'Fuck you!' the Traidor snarled, the very picture of thwarted rage.

'Oh, do shut up.' The Doctor sounded only mildly irritated. 'It's my turn to talk. Now, I want you to use those lovely sharp claws of yours to free my friends – oh, and no drawing blood by mistake, or you'll upset the unicorns . And you don't want to upset the unicorns because of the pointy horns, remember? Well, go on, then! They're waiting!'

There was no doubting what the Traidor would rather have done with her lovely sharp claws, but she managed to restrain her temper as she followed the Doctor's instructions, her ears flattened in thwarted rage.. The man stayed silent throughout the whole procedure, although his expression clearly showed that he was no more cheerful about this turn of events than his partner.

'Well, this is unexpected. In a good way. Obviously.' Rory got to his feet, a little unsteadily, and as the last of Amy's ropes fell away, he reached out a hand to help her. 'Doctor, have you been ... talking to the unicorns? I mean, telepathically?'

'Absolutely I have. I speak unicorn. Well, I speak it in my head. Not out loud. Wrong sort of mouth and vocal chords and ... stuff.' The Doctor twisted his face about and managed a sort of whinny in an apparent attempt to prove his point. The unicorn snorted.

'Yeah, I know. That was a rubbish accent. Sorry, mate.' The Doctor patted the unicorn's neck.

'So how are the unicorns with the whole patting thing?' Rory frowned slightly. 'Don't they find it a little, well, patronising? Given that they're sentient beings and you're treating them a bit like a horse.'

'Most of them is a horse. And patting's perfectly all right amongst good friends. Which we are, aren't we?'

The unicorn snuffled at the Doctor's hair and then lifted his head, swishing his tail.

'Now that was actually the unicorn equivalent of a pat. Sort of. Well, not really. Did I mention that the language of unicorns is very, very –'

'Let me guess. Complicated?' Amy sighed and shook her head. 'So, Doctor, how long have you been talking to the unicorns?'

'Since not long after the truck stopped. Lucky I did. This one - my first contact - was already on his way to see me. Having detected another creature with advanced telepathic skills, he was fascinated. Perfectly understandable.' The Doctor smoothed one hand over his hair, looking so smug he was practically preening. 'The unicorns thought two-legged creatures with their kind of abilities were nothing more than fairy tales.'

'So, nothing to do with the whole nudity and virgin thing?' Amy clarified.

'No.'

'Good,' Rory muttered.

'Although he -' the Doctor began.

'Stop! Don't!' Rory raised his hands. 'Whatever you're going to say, I don't want to hear it!'

The Doctor huffed a little. 'Humans. You're so judgemental about these things! All right, moving on, then. We had a good long conversation. And came up with a plan.'

The unicorn stamped a hoof.

'Yes.' The Doctor nodded in agreement. 'It was a good plan. A brilliant plan, in fact. And now we have just a few more loose ends to clear up before -'

'Talking of loose ends, Doctor, where are the Skrel?' Amy interrupted, suddenly realising there were no tall red life-forms anywhere to be seen.

'The unicorns let them leave. Seems Skrel have a little rudimentary telepathy themselves. So words were exchanged, with my assistance, to encourage them to go away and never come back. Which they were happy to agree to.'

'So what about these two?' Amy gestured towards the man and the Traidor, who were now being herded at unicorn-point into the clearing.

'Ah! The remaining loose ends,' the Doctor said, clasping his hands together. 'The unicorns have agreed to let me pass judgement upon them.'