Two years late. Blimey, maybe Donna wasn't the one who'd left dents in the decades after they flew. Regeneration hadn't done any favors for his driving.
"You are so sure that I'm coming," Amy remarked. It sounded like a tease, playfully threatening to decide to stay home, with her boring life and no crack in her wall.
The Doctor knew there was a chance she would say no. There was always a chance that the people he chose wouldn't agree with being chosen. And yet, he knew that Amy was different from Rose, Martha, or Donna. Amy had been dreaming about this for hours from his point of view, but for most of her life from hers.
"Yeah, I am," he agreed, sending her a bright smile and leaning on the console. The remodeling was very sleek.
"Why?"
"'Cause you're the Scottish girl in the English village, and I know how that feels." Or something close to it, at least. The Doctor didn't stop smiling at her, waiting for her to just agree so that they could get going already. He was bursting with energy, ready to spin around the console and take off to anywhere in the universe, just for something to see.
"Oh, do you?" She raised her eyebrows and prompted more, clearly curious, but that was as much as the redhead was going to get.
Unless… well, she had an adventurous spirit and longed to escape her small town where she didn't fit in. It reminded him of someone. It was worth a try. "All these years living here, most of your life, and you've still got that accent." Nonchalantly, he slipped in the word. "All that wanderlust just building and brimming inside. Yeah. You're coming."
Amy bit her lip, but there was no reaction of shock, recognition, or joy. The Doctor tried not to be disappointed but couldn't help the slight sinking feeling in his hearts. One more person who didn't respond. He shouldn't have been surprised – inviting Amy felt right, but not the same right as a soulmate was supposed to feel. Still, he was running low on bodies, running low on lifetimes, and running low on patience. He ached to meet his match in a way his previous regeneration had pretended not to notice.
Whatever she was thinking of, Amy came to a hesitant decision and asked, "Can you get me back for tomorrow morning?"
Sometimes humans were slow on the uptake. He gave her the benefit of the doubt – he'd just woken her up. "It's a time machine," he reminded her pointedly, gesturing up at the concentric circles narrowing towards the time rotor. "I can get you back for five minutes ago. Why? What's tomorrow?"
"Nothing," Amy answered far too quickly. He raised his eyebrows but she insisted, "Nothing. Just, you know, stuff."
That was the face of a liar if he had ever seen one. The Doctor didn't buy it for a second but she was allowed her privacy. She wouldn't be the first person he had whisked away from impending problems or responsibilities and if she wanted this to be her fairytale escape, well, he wouldn't say no to that optimistic, happy-go-lucky energy right about now.
Flipping down a lever that produced a low hum from the TARDIS, the Doctor agreed, "Alright then. Back in time for stuff."
Amy was fascinated by his ship in a way that made his hearts feel light. This younger body had a personality to match with many feelings and a general openness to emotion. Even the pinstripes had been slower to change moods, short of a crisis. He warned her not to press anything and watched her circle the time rotor, feeling the controls and running her hands along buttons, levers, dials, and displays. The amazement on her face made her look almost like the child he had left behind for five minutes-turned-twelve years.
As she passed by him, he realized that in her nightie, neither of her arms were covered. He snuck a peek while she was still distracted by the TARDIS. The word Roman was printed on the inside of her right wrist. Certainly not a match, then.
A/N: Thank you for clicking on my story! This was originally just a three-chapter fic, but I decided a little prologue would help to establish the AU.