Author's Note - Thanks for the reviews. I'm glad you're reviewing the story.

Amy hadn't given up hope. Not entirely. She had now realised that she'd made her move too early; she'd done it at the wrong time; at a time when the Doctor believed that she was hormonal and therefore obviously void of her senses – which of course she wasn't – and at a time when he would have felt like he was taking advantage of a vulnerable pregnant woman. She may be pregnant but she certainly wasn't vulnerable and she wanted him, more than anything. Of course she'd been attracted to him when they first met but she was engaged and she decided it was a crush, a passing fancy because he was exciting and enigmatic and charming, but now she was carrying his unborn child things were different. Her feelings for him ran deeper every day, carving themselves into her heart. It wasn't about lust anymore; it was love. She loved him and there was nothing she could do to banish that love. It held her fast. And that's why she couldn't give up hope.

However, she knew she had to bide her time and wait, be patient. She may be ready but the Doctor certainly wasn't. Therefore, she would wait until after the birth of their child – their son – and then he would undoubtedly realise that whatever was holding him back was pointless, trivial and they would be a family. A true family. That prospect made her chest ache with longing. It was an ache she'd never had with Rory. She'd always thought she loved Rory, that's why she agreed to marry him after all, but she realised now that that was never true love. It was nothing in comparison to what she was feeling now. She'd never felt such intense emotions with him. And she now knew why. It was because, all those years ago, she'd given a piece of her heart to the Doctor – the most loving part, the passionate part– and he'd taken it away with him, whisked away in a blue box. She'd been without it ever since. That is until he returned to her and within moments, almost impossibly fast, she devoted herself to him once more, trusted him with her life implicitly as one would a soul-mate. He had that piece of her heart after all.

She had thought, when these feelings began to grow in her, that she was cheating on Rory, her fiancé, by thinking about the Doctor but then she came to realise that Doctor had been the one for her long before Rory. He was the man she thought of every day since she met him. He was the one who filled her dreams. He was the one who saved her in her nightmares. He was the man who'd turned up in the middle of the night and filled her mind with possibilities. He'd broken her heart, yes, but he'd come back and saved her life; saved her planet. Surely that had to mean something? And she even now understood why it had happened because the Doctor certainly did lead an insane life, full of twists and turns and the fact he'd found her in the first place, in a universe so vast, had to mean something. She couldn't blame him anymore.

And she also couldn't blame him for not sharing her intense feelings. Although she had known him her entire life, he had known her for much less. He'd seen her jump from girl to kiss-o-gram to bride-to-be and therefore it would take more time for him to love her which is exactly why she was being patient. She just had to satisfy herself with holding hands and hugging and sharing lingering glances that she felt meant so much but she expected didn't mean a lot to the Doctor. He was oblivious to that kind of thing.

Sighing, Amy sloshed the water of her bath around her and realised it had gone cold. She must have been in here for hours. Her skin had shrivelled up and her fingers looked like dried prunes. Pulling a face, she carefully manoeuvred herself upright using the handrail and made her way to the edge. Looking down, it looked like an awfully long way to step, especially wet and with a cumbersome belly. Teetering, she realised she was probably stuck.

"Crap," she hissed under her breath, "Crap, crap, crappity-crap. Stupid bath."

Grumbling to herself she tried to lift her leg but found herself losing her balance almost immediately. Fortunately, she grabbed the wall just in time before she came crashing down onto the hard porcelain.

Nope. There was no way out. She was definitely stuck.

Time to call for back up.

"DOCTOR!" she hollered as loud as she could. "DOCTOR GET IN HERE!"

She stopped yelling and waited, listening. There was a distant crash and a bang and then the sound of running feet. She sighed in relief….and then remembered her rather revealing position. Glancing down at her naked body she suddenly felt very exposed. A red flush worked its way up her neck and splashed across her cheeks. She wasn't usually one to be self-conscious but helpless and horribly, massively pregnant in a bath was not a place to be showing of her shapely body. This was not how she wanted the Doctor to see her naked for the first time. Unfortunately, it was too late to go back now and she couldn't even reach a blasted towel. She braced herself and covered herself with her arms as best she could.

There was some more crashing and thumping of doors before someone ran into the wood of her own bathroom door.

"Pond? Pond! Are you okay?" the Doctor shouted, frantically. She could hear the whizzing of his sonic screwdriver and she drew in a deep breath of preparation.

Bang.

The door burst open and almost flew off its hinges to reveal a wide-eyed, panic-stricken Time Lord. His anxious gaze fell on his companion, standing stark naked in the bath, and it took him a few moments to realise what he was seeing.

"Good god!" he yelped in horror and practically slapped himself in the face in an attempt to cover his eyes. "Amy Pond, where are your clothes?"

"Not on me, obviously," Amy replied, biting her lip.

"Then why am I here?" he asked, sounding utterly mortified by his intrusion. "I thought….I thought you were in trouble." As he spoke he struggled to string syllables together.

"I am!" Amy exclaimed, "I'm stuck."

"In the bath?"

"Yes."

The Doctor gulped. "And you need me for?"

"I need help to get out, Doctor. You know someone to lean on?"

"Lean on?" he practically choked.

"Uh, yeah."

"I'll….I'll get you a towel!"

Still with his eyes covered, the Doctor hurried over to the towel rack – almost crashing into it because of his blindness - and grabbed a fluffy white towel. Swiftly, he attempted to hand it to Amy and almost dropped it. Fortunately, she swiped and grabbed the soft white fabric before it fell in her cold bath water. Quickly, she wrapped it round her.

"Okay, Doctor, you can look now."

"Phew," the Doctor sighed, removing his fingers.

"What?" Amy scowled, feeling more confident now she was covered. "Glad you don't have to look at my fat body anymore?"

The Doctor once again looked mortified. "No! No! Not at all. Your body is beautiful, Amy." Both their eyes went as round as dinner plates at his words. "I mean! I mean….that you have nothing to be ashamed of. All pregnant women's bodies are beautiful….I mean all women's bodies... no! Human bodies….I mean…I mean…." The Doctor was now the colour of a beetroot and still getting redder. "All bodies?" he finished meekly.

"I think you saved that…in a really pervy, creepy way," Amy said, dryly, observing the crimson colour of his ears and feeling slightly better about her own embarrassment. They were embarrassed together. That wasn't so bad.

"I'm glad?" he said, weakly, "Shall we get you out now before I dig myself further into this crater-sized hole?"

"Good plan."

The Doctor leant over and offered her a hand, which she took, and a shoulder to lean on with her other hand. Awkwardly, the two of them managed to get her out of the bath and onto solid ground with no injuries. The Doctor was acutely aware of where he was placing his hands and Amy was acutely aware of where his hands were placed and whether her towel was about to fall down and reveal her swollen pregnancy breasts. It was not a particularly pleasant experience for either of them. However, it was over and they could now go their separate ways to nurse their wounds of humiliation.

"You sorted?" the Doctor checked.

"Fine and dandy, thanks," Amy replied, holding her towel tighter. "Next time I think I'll stick with a shower though…or maybe find a lake, you know."

"Good idea….well…I er….will leave you to it."

"Right. Okay. Well, see you in a bit."

"Yes….of course."

And then he was gone like a flash.

Amy could still feel the intense heat of where his palms had touched her bare skin. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably.


At twenty eight weeks pregnant, Amy was in her full maternity gear. She tried to still look attractive but it was really very hard not to look like a floral cow. As a general rule she wore tighter fitting clothes but now she was pregnant she'd changed her style to flimsy, floaty garments. It made her feel very summery and a little less ungainly. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about her ugly waddle or her bad back – those she just had to stick with. She'd been applying some cream that she'd found in the TARDIS medicinal cabinet for her vivid stretch marks and they seemed to be fading so perhaps she wouldn't lose her figure completely.

Right now, she was wearing a crisp white blouse with pretty lacing around the low neckline interspersed with small wooden beads and a pair of khaki shorts which were relatively short because, thankfully, her slender legs were unaffected by the pregnancy so she could still feel somewhat feminine. There was a reason she was dressed up, her auburn hair falling in supple waves on her shoulders and her make up tastefully done and that was because the Doctor was making her dinner. They never usually bothered with formal meals. Usually they grabbed what they fancied whenever they could but because Amy had been complaining about how uncomfortable and painful her life was right now, the Doctor had kindly offered to cook her a meal to cheer her up. And she had seen it as the perfect opportunity to show him that she was still beautiful and feminine. It would probably be more difficult to get his attention once the baby was born and she was covered in baby sick and milk stains.

Heading down the corridor, she found her way to the kitchen and spotted the Doctor dancing around by the stove. He was wearing his normal attire - minus the jacket and bowtie - and his top two shirt buttons were casually undone. A sliver of pale skin peeped out, tantalisingly. He looked less prep-school professor and more dashingly handsome date. Amy tried desperately to school her thoughts. It was hard though when all she wanted to do was run her hands through that luscious, impossibly bouncy brown hair. Just as she was about to reach out and fulfil her fantasy, the Doctor whipped round and spotted her.

"Aha! Pond! Perfect timing!" he declared with a massive grin, as if she'd made his day by appearing just at that moment. Her heart fluttered, especially when he threw a casual arm over her shoulder and gestured at the food cooking on the stove. She registered he had a tiny endearing smudge on his nose and she tried not to wipe it off. "Here we have some exquisitely grilled salmon that I'm about to sprinkle into that gorgeous noodle stir fry where it's going to get down and jiggy with those perfectly crispy vegetables."

"Okay, you started well but you lost it towards the end," Amy laughed, "You almost had me convinced that you knew what you were talking about."

"Shut up. Of course I know what I'm talking about. I always know what I'm talking about." The Doctor's sparkling eyes caught hers and the two of them chuckled. Amy held his gaze a moment longer than necessary, biting her lip, but he didn't seem to notice. "So, I've laid the table and all you need to do is plonk your backside down in that seat."

"You put it so eloquently," Amy quipped, "Here I thought we were having an elegant supper."

"Amelia Pond, do you know me at all?" the Doctor said with a wink, "This is as posh as I go. If we had it my way it would be salmon and ice cream for dinner."

"Oh my god, are you trying to make me vomit?" Amy fake retched. "And what is your obsession with messing with fish?"

"I don't know really," the Doctor shrugged. "Now, here we go, dinner is served…Madame." He gave her the plate with a flourish and a French accent.

"The 'Madame' didn't save it," Amy teased.

"Cor, nothing pleases you, does it, Pond?" The Doctor sighed and dropped into his seat.

They ate and talked amiably. Amy tried a few times to drop hints but to no avail, as per usual, the Doctor was oblivious. It just made her grow more and more frustrated. Eventually, they finished and after clearing up their plates, the Doctor suggested moving to the control room because he needed to sort out some problems with the TARDIS engines in there – apparently they'd been groaning and grinding more than usual lately, not that Amy could tell the difference.

In the control room, Amy dropped into the captain's chair and the Doctor straightened his braces before getting to work. Amy watched him as they spoke. If asked, she would have no idea what they talked about because all she could do was stare at him and study him. She just found it so hard to believe that he existed, that he was as utterly special and unique as he was; and that she was having a child. She was completely enamoured by him and not just because of the way he looked, it was the way he talked; the way he flung his arms around; the way his eyes lit up in such a way that it made you feel like whatever he was saying was the most important thing in the universe; it was the way he laughed so raucously at your jokes and made some brilliant ones of his own; it was the way he knew exactly what he was doing as he delved into the depths of what looked to be the most complicated machine imaginable; the way the muscles in his back rippled; how his tendons stood out on his arms like taut guitar strings. She couldn't get enough of him and it was killing her.

"Doctor," she said, quietly, tentatively.

"Yes, Pond," he replied, his head lost in the bowels of his beloved machine. Strange sounds occasionally issued from both him and the time ship.

"I was thinking…."

"Yeah?" Ping. "Oops. That wasn't meant to happen…do continue…"

"About…stuff…."

"Ookay." Grunt. Thump. "Ouch. Oh, don't mind me, Pond."

"I mean…we're friends, right?"

"Ooofff….yes, of course, goes without saying."

"Best friends?"

Bang. Ting. "Most definitely."

"Right. Good."

"Is this going somewhere, Pond?"

"Erh…I'm kinda working up to it."

Crack. "Cripes, that can't be good." Amy had no idea whether he was referring her words or his work.

"Well, anyway, you know what happened a couple of months ago…in the TV room…."

Silence.

"Yeah, well, I've been thinking about it a lot and…and I don't think it was 'just hormones'. I think I like you, Doctor, I mean really, really like you." Amy hated the fact she sounded like an inexperienced teenager but it just seemed to be what the Doctor did to her, made her feel like she was an intimidated fourteen year old.

Silence.

"Doctor?" Her voice was small and tentative. He still had his head in the TARDIS wiring.

"Amy…." the Doctor began just as Amy gushed, "Doctor, I think I love you."

Slowly, the Doctor extricated himself from the inside of his ship and turned around to face her. Her breath caught in her throat. Her blood rushed noisily in her ears. Then she saw his eyes and her heart stopped beating.

"Amy," he said, trying again, "Amelia…I can't….I've loved…well, I've loved a lot of people. I have in the past and I'm sure I will in the future. It's the nature of a sentient being: to seek love." His words cut into her heart like the blade of a knife, slicing through the muscle as if it was butter, striking at her centre. She shuddered. "And I'm sorry. So sorry. But I'm a Time Lord; you're a human. I love you as my friend but I don't think I can love you as anything…more."

"I'm having your baby," she whispered, feeling her bleeding heart throb.

"You are but you know that was an accident and nothing more, Amelia, don't you?" He spoke slowly, enunciating each word, trying to be gentle but failing miserably. "You can see that? We were not in love then; we aren't in love now. I was nothing more than a sperm donor. I did ask you to terminate the baby because I was afraid… this would happen. It's natural for a mother to feel things for the father of her child but we didn't create this child from love, Amelia. It was artificial. I hoped that maybe this could work, us raising a child, but it obviously can't." The Doctor closed his eyes, scrunched them up so tight like he was a parent with an incoming migraine caused by a particularly tiresome child. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Amy felt her temper flare. "I wish this hadn't happened. I really do. I wish you were back in Leadworth with the man you love and who loves you back. I wish you were pregnant with his child…"

"Fine!" Amy interrupted, utterly livid. "FINE! I said I would leave before! You obviously don't want me here. You obviously don't want this child so I'll go. I'll go back to Rory and Earth and I'll tell him what happened, that I went with you and travelled in time but, you know what," she spat, viciously, her eyes flashing, "I'll tell him that this is his baby, not the child of some cruel, insensitive arsehole. And he'll believe me and he'll look after the baby because he's a good man…." Amy was crying now, tears streaming down her face. "And he trusts me and he…he loves me."

The Doctor stared at her, seemingly a little stunned. She couldn't see why. Could he not see how much his words hurt her? Did he not understand?

"In fact, right now, take me there right now," she shouted.

"I…"

"Now. I don't even want to look at you."

Suddenly, the time ship lurched, almost throwing Amy off her feet. The Doctor reached out to steady her but she whipped her elbow out of his reach and stabilised herself on a railing. The TARDIS engines grated loudly around them, filling the control room with the familiar deafening roaring. Eventually, it stopped rocking and came to a stop. With a frown, the Doctor ran to the control panel.

"Earth? What the-?" he said, glancing at his time ship in confusion. He twisted the dial on his temporal manipulator and studied the readings and then flicked a couple of switches in bewilderment.

Finally, he turned back to face Amy.

But she was gone. The TARDIS front door hung open in her wake.

Ah...a return to the angst. Don't despair. It will all make sense soon. That is if you review. Otherwise you may never know what happens...is this blackmail? It probably is :)