Characters: Amy Pond; Rory Pond; and mild Matt
Rating: K+
The elevator dinged as Rory stepped out. One very long day at the hospital left him sore and tired and he dearly hoped Amy had something out for dinner. As he entered the flat, however, all those thoughts flew out of his head. Amy stood beside the counter, bent as far double as she could go. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the counter and her face was screwed up in pain. Rory rushed to her side, putting one hand on her back and using his other to grasp Amy's free hand,
"Is the baby coming?" he asked quickly. Amy almost broke his hand,
"What do you think?" she ground out. Rory started for the door,
"I'll get…what do I get? Amy, what do I get?" he shouted. As the contraction passed, Amy straightened up,
"Go get my brother and his car. Oh, I'm going to kill you." said Amy, pressing her hands to her back.
"Right." said Rory. He ran back to Amy, kissed her, then ran out the hall, shouting,
"We're having a baby!" Rory didn't bother with the elevator, instead racing down the stairs to the Weeping Angel. Behind his excitement, however, was a little niggle of worry. Amy wasn't due for another week. Was there something wrong? Rory threw the doors open and shouted, "We're having a baby!" Conversations stopped and every patron in the place turned to look at him. Rory sighed, "Where's Matt?"
"Ran upstairs for his apron." said Wilf from behind the bar. Rory nodded and turned around, running back up the three flights of stairs. He arrived at the Song's door slightly out of breath. River opened the door and Rory gasped out,
"Amy…baby…Matt?" he said, hoping River understood. River nodded,
"He just went back downstairs. Is Amy having the baby?" called River down the hall, but Rory was already back in the stairwell. As he came to the end of the ninth flight of stairs he'd gone up or down, a tiny voice in the back of his head that sounded like Amy whispered something about taking the stairs. Rory paid it no mind as he again flung open the door of the Weeping Angel. He just stood there panting for a moment. Matt was at the bar and when he saw Rory, he nodded and slipped off his newly-gathered apron. As Matt ran to the back for his coat, he called out,
"Wilf, I need you to work tonight. I need to drive Amy to the hospital."
"Everything's good here, sir." said Wilf with a salute, "You just tell Amy good luck." Rory nodded as Matt ran past him and out the front door, calling back,
"Go get Amy. I'll pull the car around front." Rory nodded, still out of breath as he punched the elevator button up. And he pushed it again. And again. After the third time, Rory realized it wasn't coming. He sighed and ran up the stairs. He opened the door to the flat, only to find it silent.
"Amy?" he called out cautiously.
"In the living room!" she called in a perfectly normal voice. Rory walked through to find her on the couch, eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and watching television.
"But I thought…" he said, making a vague gesture at her belly. Amy shrugged and took another bite of her sandwich.
"I guess not." At Rory's expression, Amy raised her hands, "I've never had a baby before. How should I know what it feels like?" she said. Rory sighed and leaned against the doorframe,
"Right. I'll just…tell Matt…" he turned and slowly made his was out of the flat, wheezing back down the three flights of stairs, informing Matt of the false alarm. Far from being angry, the bartender shrugged,
"She's my sister. About three times from now she'll actually have the thing." Rory paused, about to argue, then shrugged,
"Yeah." Matt clapped him on the back,
"See you tomorrow then." Rory nodded and went back up to the flat. It was going to be a long week.