Chapter Twenty-Five
Rory looked at me awkwardly. John eyed the two of us. "Sure, Amy. We'll just… wait in the other room." The three guys cleared out leaving the two of us alone.
I cleared my throat and got straight to the point. "Why have you been avoiding me?"
"What?" Rory laughed, seemingly taken by surprise. "Amy I haven't been avoiding you."
"Oh come on!" I yelled angrily, "You won't even look at me. You haven't seen me in seven months- seven months!- and I haven't even heard so much as a hello. I'm your wife! And when I come here there's a pretty girl in your office and she's your receptionist. Seems like reason enough for you to avoid me."
"Teresa?" Rory asked, looking pissed, "Are you implying that I was cheating on you with Teresa?" He laughed and put his hand on his forehead. "Amy! She's a child! I'm married, Amy. To you! Teresa just works for me. And Amy," He grabbed my shoulders, "Look at me. I would never, ever, cheat on you. You're a catch." He grinned.
My cheeks turned red. "But.. But why have you been avoiding me?"
"Oh… um… well I guess you were gonna find out eventually, anyway." Rory sighed.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
He took of his jacket and pulled up his shirt so that his lower back was exposed. There, in smooth wavy letters, was the tattoo You Only Live Once. "I… I was at a pub with some buddies… and I got really drunk and…"
I laughed, "This is why you've been avoiding me? A YOLO tattoo?"
Rory's cheeks turned a furious red, "I thought you wouldn't like it."
"Rory, you stupid head. I don't give a damn about a dumb tattoo that you got when you were drunk in 1891. Yes, I would prefer it not be a YOLO tattoo, but there is nothing we can do now. And if it really bothers you that much, we can get it removed when we get back home."
"Really?"
"Yes, ya idiot. God, what did you think I was going to do? Murder you for getting all tatted up. It's the nineteenth century for god's sake!"
Rory laughed and then planted a firm kiss on my lips. I smiled and gave him a tight hug. "I guess we were both a bit paranoid." He told me, pulling out of my grasp.
"Yeah. Come on, let's go." I started walking toward the door.
"I'm gonna miss this place," he mumbled. "Being a doctor really isn't that bad."
"Well, we can work on that when we get home." I told him, "But currently, we've got to help Sherlock Holmes and John Watson rid themselves of the Weeping Angels."
Rory shook his head, "I have been waiting seven months to hear you say that."
I opened the office door. "Good."
The Doctor looked up at the two of us. "Everything all sorted out?" We nodded. "Good. Great. Splendid! I heard screaming. I don't like screaming. Anyway, I propose we go back to the TARDIS, hitch a ride back to the early 2000's and tell the Angel's to get their own plant."
Rory smiled, "Sounds like a plan to me."