Chapter 4: Jessicas

Amy got the impression, right off, that she and Jessica were rather similar. More so than they were different. Rory didn't entirely believe her when she brought it up - "She seems nice," he'd said, "but you have to admit that she's a lot more cynical than you've ever been" - but Amy saw a likeness of herself on Jessica's face, and she was eager to explore that as they got to know each other.

Unfortunately, Jessica didn't seem to feel at all the same way.

Amy invited her to get River ready for her date, and while Jessica came along willingly enough, she only spoke enough to get a few snarky quips in, and there was been very little of the female bonding Amy had intended. Not that it wasn't fun, but...Amy'd been hoping for something a little more meaningful than the friendly small talk they'd ended up exchanging.

After that failure, Amy made an extra effort of including Jessica in every event on the TARDIS, however minor. When she and Rory started getting hungry in the evenings, one of the first thing she did (after peeking her head into the console room to cajole the Doctor into finishing up whatever he was doing, because god knew if she didn't start bothering him at least an hour before mealtime he wouldn't show up until it was nearly over, and even if he didn't eat it was about being together) was track down Jessica to personally tell her they were going to start on dinner, and to ask if she had any requests. Jessica would usually say no, and sometimes look confused or suspicious, but Amy took it in stride. She was certain that Jessica would come around eventually.

When they had movie nights, Amy attempted to start conversations about different films, which were met with enthusiasm from Luke and Jack, but much less so from Jessica, who just seemed to tune them out and do her own thing. Amy tried to include her, but Jessica only seemed puzzled by her efforts, and Amy usually gave up after too long a time with only minimal response.

Any opportunity she got, Amy would try to make a comment that would be some kind of conversation starter. Normally, this would only result in Jessica glancing up at her, smiling politely, and replying in a fashion that showed she was only minorly interested.

Finally, Amy changed tactics, and tried asking personal questions instead. Nothing too invasive - they were just getting to know each other, after all. Reasonable questions, one any pair of new friends might ask one another. She asked how Jessica and Luke had met, which only got her a startled look and a shifty, "mutual misfortune," as an answer. Amy knew well enough to drop it, but it felt lousy. She asked about Jessica's parents, her siblings, which only ended in more caught-off-guard expressions and awkward silences and even more awkward one-word responses.

One morning, she found herself alone with Trish in the library. Trish seemed open enough to friendship, so Amy had been chatting with her pretty regularly since River's date night. But rarely had they found themselves alone - usually Jessica was there, or the Doctor, or Rory. Despite the fact that Trish seemed to be absorbed in her book, Amy thought this would be the perfect time to pose some important questions.

"Trish," she said. And then she repeated herself, until Trish finally looked up from her book and frowned. "Sorry, I don't want to interrupt, it's just...does Jessica not like me, or something?"

Immediately, Trish softened, and dog-eared the page she was on so that she could set the book down. "No, I think she likes you well enough."

Well, that was somewhat of a relief. "Oh. She doesn't...no offense, I know you're her best friend. But she doesn't act like it."

Trish sighed. "Jessica's a closed-off person at the best of times. It's the way she's always been, but especially the past few years." Kind of like the Doctor, Amy thought. She said as much to Trish, which earned her a thoughtful nod. "Yeah, he's not exactly open himself. Look, the best way to get to know Jessica is to let her approach you. It's harder that way, and it takes time, but you might freak her out if you chase after her."

Which is exactly what Amy had been doing. But then again, she'd never had anyone not want to befriend her. She of course had her flaws, and she wasn't the perfect friend, but she tried, and where it counted she was a good confidant, and listener, and advisor. And more than anything else, she was a friendly person. And, not to toot her own horn, she was interesting. It was part of the reason the Doctor had invited her along with him - he'd essentially said as much.

That made her sound rather self-centered, even in her own mind. But it wasn't untrue.

"Okay," Amy said. It had been long enough since she'd spoken that Trish had begun to pick up her book again. "Thanks for the advice. I just think we're a lot alike, you know?"

Trish smiled. "I think so, too. Give Jessica a chance. She needs more people in her life, even if she won't admit it. Don't tell her I said that."

Amy offered a wry smile back. "I won't."

It felt good to have a friend.

Amy attempted Trish's recommended method - she wasn't unfriendly to Jessica, but she tried backing off. It was more difficult than it sounded.

For one, Amy had gotten used to instigating conversation. And, evidently, Jessica had gotten used to it as well. When they were together, in the TARDIS or on some quiet adventure, things fell incredibly silent between them. And soon Jessica would start shooting squinty-eyed glances at Amy, obviously expecting some kind of assault of conversation. It took all of Amy's willpower not to give in. Even Rory started questioning her, when they were alone, asking her if she was alright.

Am I really that talkative? she started to wonder, with some trepidation. Though maybe that was another reason the Doctor liked to have her around - with her, someone else was there to chatter back at him. God knew Rory wasn't about to do it; he was far more shy than Amy had ever been, even with the Doctor. And he tended to get a bit overwhelmed when the Doctor started techno-babbling at him.

Things came to a head one sleepy afternoon in the TARDIS. Amy entered the library with a few books she'd swiped the day before (none of which were particularly interesting, to her displeasure), and found Jessica dozing on one of the couches there. It looked like maybe Luke had been around before, since his favorite leather jacket was lying on the coffee table, but for the moment Jessica was alone.

Maybe it was a harsh move to wake her up, but Amy was getting very fed up with waiting around. She'd done enough waiting already in her lifetime. She was patient, certainly, but she was tired of being patient. She'd learned, over the past few years, that while waiting usually worked eventually, sometimes you had to take action.

She dropped her books on the coffee table, more loudly that intended, and winced as Jessica jolted up with wild eyes.

"Sorry," Amy said, quickly. "Look, Jessica, let's do something."

Jessica actually backed away from her, scooting back on the couch to rest against the arm farthest from Amy, eyeing her suspiciously. That wild look hadn't yet faded from her eyes. "What?" she asked, more harshly than Amy would have liked.

"I want to be friends," Amy blurted, and then immediately she smacked a hand over her face. "Ugh," she muttered. She forced her hand to drop, and then made herself smile, as friendly as possible. "I think we're a lot alike, and honestly, I need more friends. Trish said she thought you could use more, too." She hadn't meant to say that. Jessica's suspicion turned to an outright glare.

"Trish," she grumbled. Slowly, she began to relax, however, and Amy let her own shoulders loosen. Jessica sat up a little more.

"Let's do something," Amy repeated. "Some...girl time. Female bonding. Whatever you want to call it. Trish can come, too, if that's better."

Jessica's face twisted. "I'm not good at making friends."

Amy fought back a wince, and smothered her growing disappointment with effort. "Well, I am. Let's just talk. It doesn't have to be anything crazy. We can talk about our parents, or Luke and Rory, or our favorite drinks, or something."

Jessica's mouth turned slightly up, but it was not a hopeful expression. Amy's heart pounded.

"Or how we met the Doctor," Amy offered. "I don't know anything about that, and that's always an interesting story." She attempted a bigger smile.

If there had been any chance that Jessica was about to open up, it immediately vanished, and she visibly shut down. Her eyes lowered. "I'd rather not," she said, and her voice was biting.

Amy clenched a fist. The first hints of anger burned in her gut. But not really at Jessica. She didn't know why Jessica didn't want to talk, but from what Trish had implied she had good reason. No, she was more upset with the Doctor. He was supposed to tell her these things now. They'd made an talking agreement, for God's sake. He was supposed to tell her something. Anything.

Without another word, Amy stood and left the room, headed straight for the console room.

Poor Rory intercepted her in the hall, with a content smile on his face that faded the moment he saw the murderous expression on her face. "Amy?" he asked, nothing but concern.

"Where's the Doctor?" Amy demanded. Rory grimaced, probably already feeling bad for the Time Lord who was most certainly about to get sworn at.

"The pantry, I think," Rory stammered. "Um, Amy-"

"Sorry, Rory, not now," she called behind her, already off again to wind through the TARDIS' labyrinth halls. To the ceiling, she said, "You'd better not hide him from me. You know as well as I do that he deserves what's coming to him."

Although the TARDIS' hum was displeased, it didn't sound entirely disapproving. Amy felt more than heard something shift off to her right, and she turned to find the distinctive pantry door just ahead, a plain brown against the TARDIS' silver walls. It opened before she'd even touched it.

"Doctor!" she yelled.

"Amelia Pond!" he called back, much too cheerfully. It only made her growing rage boil. He stood on a ladder, nearly high enough to bash his head on the tall ceiling, evidently searching for something in the explosion that was the pantry.

"Don't you 'Amelia Pond' me," she snapped. His face fell. He paused in the middle of his search to stare at her like she'd grown a second head.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice a cocktail of meekness and offense.

Amy tried to find a concise way to describe the problem, but could only come up with an exasperated, "You're driving me absolutely mad, Doctor!"

He moved down one rung, as if he might come down to her level, and then apparently thought better of it. Instead, he leaned against the nearest shelf and continued to peer down at her. "Sorry?" he said.

"You're still keeping things from me," she elaborated, with an accusing finger pointed at him now.

She must have sounded slightly less furious, because he hesitantly began to descend once more. "Like what?" he asked, moments before he leaped to the floor.

Once she had determined that he was still in one piece, Amy went in on him again. "Jessica. How did you meet her? And Luke, and Trish."

He paused. His gaze flew around the room, evidently searching for some kind of distraction.

"Doctor," she said. "Tell. Me."

"It's not really my place," he hedged, pulling at his bowtie. "It involves quite a bit of backstory which is...not mine to tell."

"Then just tell me what you can without the backstory," Amy insisted, crossing her arms. "And tell me why you felt the need to keep it from me. And don't think I haven't noticed you hiding things from Jessica and Luke and Trish, too." She stepped into the pantry further, and closed the door behind her. In something of a whisper, she finished, "You still haven't told them about Gallifrey."

The nervousness on his face turned to bitterness, potent enough that Amy almost felt bad for bringing it up. But no, she wasn't going to let him guilt-trip her into dropping this. It was important.

"I didn't tell you," he said, after a moment of pondering, "because I'm trying to leave it in the past. It's better to forget it happened at all." He started to lift a hand to scratch at his neck before making a sort of flinching movement and quickly pinning the offending limb back down to his side.

"I have to disagree, since despite your efforts it's clearly still affecting everyone to this day." Amy took a step forward to poke the Doctor in the chest. "I know you're allergic to feelings, but sometimes it does some good to have a real discussion about them. It stops people from getting hurt even more than they already are."

The Doctor sat on an abandoned stool, with a heavy sigh. "I'm not allergic to feelings," he pouted.

Amy snorted, but, sensing his discomfort, mercifully decided to move on. "Look, just tell me what you feel comfortable sharing, okay?" She took an uncomfortable seat on one of the rungs of the ladder, keeping her balance by leaning against the rung above it and placing her feet firmly on the floor. "And tell me why you haven't told them about Gallifrey. Please Doctor." She gave him her best puppy-dog face.

"My past is on a need-to-know basis," he said, more to his hands than to her.

"You don't have to tell them," Amy replied, more gently, "but it might save you some pain in the future. I've heard them asking to visit your home planet more than once. One, you won't be able to distract them forever, and two, they'll stop asking if you just tell them."

He kicked at a fallen bag of crisps on the floor with muted frustration. "I don't want to talk about it," he admitted. "Ever, actually."

Amy sighed. She propped her chin up on her hand and gave her Raggedy Doctor a once-over. His hair was a bit rumpled, and his shirt a bit wrinkled, but if there were any other signs of some impending mental breakdown she couldn't find them.

"You're giving me a look," he informed her, rather suspiciously. "Why are you giving me a look?"

"I just worry about you," she admitted. He looked touched, for a moment, before his pride caught up to him and he began to scowl. "Doctor, just tell me what happened," she redirected. "Forget the Gallifrey thing for now, we can talk about that later. Just...tell me about Jessica. The parts that you can share."

He inhaled slowly, and then exhaled in a harsh sigh. "Fine, fine. There isn't too much to tell, really. It was a long time ago for me. My last body."

"Pinstripes," Amy remembered. She'd seen pictures of a couple of his previous bodies before, though it had been quite awhile.

He gave her a tiny smile. "Yes. Pinstripes. Well, he looked rather like - or, exactly like, really - someone she was not fond of. 'Not fond of' might be a bit mild, actually. She hated him. For good reason. So she sort of assumed I was him, and thought I might hurt other people if she let me alone. So she might have kept me trapped in her apartment for about a month."

Amy swallowed. "Doctor."

"I let her," he said, immediately. "I could have escaped, really, if I'd wanted to. But I wanted to help her, you know, and I was kind of wondering if I might be this bloke she knew. That I might become him, you see, because we really did look exactly alike. Down to the freckles." He reached behind him to pick up a box of something or other, and glanced at the packaging before offering it to her. "Biscuit?"

Dazed, Amy accepted, and tore the bag inside open with perhaps more force than was appropriate. "Continue," she said, around a mouthful of crumbs.

"He was a bad man, Amelia," the Doctor murmured. "And if we're being honest, I was in a vulnerable place. Er, emotionally. I had good reason to suspect that I was on my way to becoming someone like him, if not him directly." He stole a biscuit from her, and took a cautious bite. "And I kind of left on a bad note with the lot of them. I was still convinced that I was going to become him, and...you understand paradoxes to a good extent, don't you, Amy?"

Hesitantly, she nodded.

"Well, if he was me, and he'd already done it, and then I ran into the consequences of what he-me did, I couldn't actually avoid it, could I?" He kicked at the crisps again, more softly. "That's a paradox. If I would have fought becoming him, I could have torn apart the universe. I spent all my time there avoiding that realization, as it wasn't a pleasant one. But the thing was that I had just come from a certain adventure where I reached the same conclusion - I had to stop meddling with Time, even if it was incredibly unpleasant. I don't think I explained that to Jessica, or...any of them. So, actually, they might still be a bit upset by that." He seemed to ponder this for a moment, mouth twisting unhappily.

"What did he do?" Amy asked.

He didn't look at her. "That's what I can't tell you. It wouldn't be right, for me to talk about it. I wasn't even there, so I couldn't even give you an accurate story. And, you know, it was a long time ago. I have a fantastic memory, of course, but I'm not perfect."

Amy nudged him with her shoe. "Of course not."

He then made a face. "These biscuits aren't too good, are they?"

"Not amazing," Amy agreed. She closed the box and set it aside.

"Don't get angry with Jessica," he said. He spared her a short glance, one filled with pleading and a sadness lurking around the edges. "I stayed of my own free will, really. I could have ended it all the first day, if I'd just told her I had two hearts." He smiled wryly, but his eyes weren't in it. Despite his claims that it had been a long time for him, Amy knew that he wasn't over it. The Doctor, although he would never admit it, rarely got over anything. Mostly because he refused to talk about anything that upset him for any lengthy period of time.

And although Amy was determined to try and help, it was depressingly unlikely that she would be able to make any real progress. But she would still try. She was his best friend, after all.

"Why didn't you?" she asked.

He took another deep breath, and the exhale came with the tiniest of wavers. "I'm a coward, Amelia." He held up a hand before she could form a protest. "Don't argue, I know it's true. If I had told Jessica that I had two hearts, what if she had told me that this man did, too?" He looked up again, and his eyes were darker than she'd seen them in a long time. "I was terrified that she would say that to me, and I wasn't prepared to face that possibility. So I didn't say anything. Speculating and slowly driving myself crazy was easier than addressing the problem directly, at least for a while. And by the time it became more difficult, it had already gone on too long for me to simply mention that I wasn't human." He sighed, again. "Of course, she could have just as easily told me that he was completely human. But that wouldn't necessarily have meant much, either. Time Lords can become human. I might have told you about the chameleon arch. It would have lifted some responsibility from my shoulders, if that had been the case, but…"

"But you aren't him," Amy deduced. "Are you?"

He smiled, very hesitantly. "No. Thankfully, no."

She hadn't really thought that he was - she couldn't believe that the Doctor would ever do anything so bad that he couldn't tell her about it. But nonetheless, something loosened in her chest. She reached out and squeezed his arm. "When did this happen for Jessica?"

"I went to pick her up the day after old-me left," he said. "So, er. It's a bit fresh for them."

"A bit," Amy agreed. "Are you okay?"

"King of Okay, remember?" he said. He smiled again, a little more genuinely. "But thank you, Amelia Pond. For asking."

"Thank you for telling me what you could," she said back. "Hug?"

The smile widened. "How could I turn down an Amelia hug?"

She still missed him, she realized, as they wrapped themselves up in each others' arms. Or, really, how things used to be. Before she was a 'real adult,' with a house and a job and responsibilities. Because, despite everything, she would have to head home soon, at least for a little bit. And already, though she was still here, she missed him like he'd been gone for years.

"Why suddenly so curious?" he asked, as they pulled apart.

"I'm trying to be Jessica's friend," Amy told him with a self-conscious grin. "She didn't want to talk about how she met you. I got fed up with not knowing."

"Oh, Amelia Pond," he tsked. "You don't back down, do you?"

"Oi," she said, "I'm trying to be a good friend. If she doesn't want to talk about it, she doesn't have to. But I at least deserve to know something from you, don't I?"

He kissed her forehead, all cold and alien and gentle. "Of course you do. I suppose I should have told you right off."

"That's right," Amy scolded. "So now you know, Mister." She poked him in the chest again. "I'm going to go talk to Jessica - I'm not going to be pushy," she added, at the look on his face, "I'm just going to go tell her that if she wants to talk, I'll be around."

He squeezed her hand. "You are a good friend. No trying about it."

She couldn't deny that it warmed her heart to hear that. "Thank you, Doctor."

"If anyone can help Jessica Jones open up, it's you," he said. "Run along, Pond."

Run along she did.

Amy spent the next day trying to figure out what to say to Jessica when she finally got the chance. She didn't want to be invasive or make Jessica feel as if she was prying for information, but she didn't want to come off too ambivalent about the whole thing, either. There was a fine line there, and she had to do a good job of walking it if she wanted to have any hope of things ending well.

She came up with a good outline of what to say, but it all flew out the window when Jessica approached her in the kitchen just before bed the next night. Rory had long since gone to get ready, and the others had wandered on back to their own quarters shortly after. Even Jessica had left, with Luke and Trish joining her, leaving Amy to sip at her rapidly-cooling tea and turn over more words in her head.

Someone knocked on the counter, and Amy blinked out of her thoughtful daze to see Jessica hovering in the doorway like the human personification of uncertainty.

"Oh," Amy said. Then, quickly, she amended, "hey, Jessica. What's up?"

Jessica looked like she might abandon this, whatever this was, but she instead straightened her spine and said, "I'm sorry for snapping at you yesterday."

"Don't be," Amy assured her. She attempted a casual drink of her tea, but it was much colder now, and her efforts ended in her making a face and pushing the mug aside with embarrassment. "Er, it's okay. You have the right to keep things to yourself if you want. But, full disclosure, I did talk to the Doctor about it. How you met, I mean."

Jessica tensed a little. "What did he tell you?"

"Not really any details," Amy admitted. "The bare-bones account of what happened. A lot of it wasn't his to tell, according to him."

Jessica then visibly relaxed. "Oh. Uh, good."

"He sort of said he left off on a bad note with you, too," Amy added, as the thought occurred to her. She'd seen the awkward way Jessica treaded around the Doctor, and until now hadn't understood it. But maybe she could help make things right. "Um. On his behalf, I'm sorry." She shrugged helplessly. "His reasoning involved a lot of Time Lord talk. Paradoxes and destroying the universe and...he did say he was sorry."

Jessica sighed. "I guess...I sort of figured some of that out on my own. If he was Kilgrave, and he was a time traveller, and if he...came back to see the consequences of his actions, he probably couldn't...undo that. At that point." At Amy's impressed look, Jessica said, "I watched some sci-fi movies growing up." She then scowled a little bit. "Doesn't mean it wasn't still shitty, though. He's kind of an asshole."

Amy couldn't help but smile. "Sometimes. Maybe you should still talk to him about it, though. Clear the air."

"...Maybe. Yeah. Probably." Jessica didn't seem too pleased about it, though. "At least I have confirmation that my crazy-ass theory was close to right."

Amy nodded. "Um. Just to clear the air between us. You still don't have to tell me anything," Amy told her. "About what happened. Really. Don't feel pressured. You don't owe me anything. If you ever do want to talk, I'm here, but I don't want you to feel like you have to."

"I don't do anything I don't want to do," Jessica said, edging toward iciness.

Amy only smiled. "Good. Me neither." She stirred her cold tea for a second. "I'm a Jessica, too, actually. Kind of. My middle name's Jessica. Don't know if I mentioned that. Amelia Jessica Pond. Or, it's Williams now."

Jessica leaned on the counter, her frown turning curious. "Williams?"

"The Doctor calls us the Ponds, because he likes that better," Amy confided with a smirk, "but it's my maiden name. When I married Rory I became Amy Williams. Or, to the Doctor's eyes, Rory became Rory Pond."

The faintest of smiles twitched at Jessica's lips, and she huffed out the shortest of laughs. "I guess Pond is more interesting."

"That's what he says," Amy laughed. "Do you want anything to drink?"

Jessica raised her eyebrows. "Like what?"

"We've got wine," Amy offered.

"Sure," Jessica said. As Amy got up to find a bottle in the refrigerator, the other woman perched on one of the chairs around the table, her feet drawn up to lie on the seat as well. "You're a real wine girl, aren't you?" Jessica asked.

Amy pulled out the bottle. It was already half-finished, but it would do. "Yeah," she admitted, "I guess I am." She pulled a couple glasses out of the glass cupboard, and poured them each a generous serving. "I take it you aren't?" She set the glasses on the table and reclaimed her seat.

"More of a whiskey person," Jessica said. Still, that didn't stop her from taking a gulp of the wine and nodding approvingly.

"Don't tell him I told you, but the Doctor has a huge alcohol collection," Amy confided in a stage-whisper. "If you like hard liquor, I think it's mostly that. I've never been in there, myself."

This earned her another eyebrow-raise, this one far more speculative. "I thought he hated alcohol."

"He does," Amy said, "but that doesn't always stop him." She laughed. "And anyway, he didn't always hate it. From what I've heard, his last regeneration was quite fond of banana daiquiris."

Jessica huffed another small laugh. "I'll keep that in mind."

It felt like the beginning of something, but Amy kept her hope down to a reasonable level. "Thanks for coming to talk to me."

Jessica looked down into her glass before taking another sip. "Don't you dare tell Trish I said this, but she was right. About me needing more friends or whatever."

Amy hid a smile in her glass. "I think we all need more friends," she said after she took a drink. "It never hurts to make more, no matter how many you have."

Jessica shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."

They sat quietly. Amy swirled the wine in her glass. Jessica didn't bother with any such time-wasters, and was nearly done with her drink by the time she spoke up again.

"So, Jessica and Jessica," she said.

"Kind of Jessica," Amy amended. But she grinned.

"I don't think I've met another Jessica before," Jessica mused. Despite the awkward lilt to her voice, Amy was warmed by the effort. "It's a pretty common name, so I don't know why I haven't. Not even a middle-name Jessica." She smiled, just a little.

"I guess it was just meant to be," Amy teased.

The smile on Jessica's face grew, just fractionally. "I guess maybe it was."

Aw, yay. I loved writing the interactions between Jessica and Amy here. I think they make an interesting pair. But let me know what you guys think of it, as usual! I hope you all are having a good week!