Amy looked around, dusting the quickly melting snow (Well, apparently it was ash, according the Doctor, but it looked like snow to her) off of her sleeves. Where was she? The large black box thing and TARDIS were gone, replaced by the hustle and bustle of London. Electric blimps floated in the air, and it was... sunny? The people around her all wore tank tops and shorts, flip flops of sunglasses, and a rare glimpse of sunlight was beaming through the ever present clouds. Amy felt beads of sweat forming on the back of her neck, so she shrugged off her downy jacket and tied it around her waist. "Doctor? Where are we?" No reply. Amy looked around questioningly. Where was the Doctor? Where was Rory? Just around the corner, of course, there was her doctor in his tweed jacket and too-short pants, bent over to check the settings on his sonic screwdriver.

"Doctor!" Amy yelled, pushing through pedestrians as she headed towards him. "Where's Rory? Where's the TARDIS?" No answer. Finally Amy was upon him. "Stop playing games with me! Where is my husband?" Amy shoved his shoulder, spinning him around to reveal a skinny and rather elderly man wearing a BINGO shirt under his tweed jacket and hunching over his cane. "Oh." Amy could feel her cheeks turning red, so she turned away as she said, "I'm sorry, sir. Wrong doctor."

Amy began to run, not even bothering to see if the old man was okay. "Doctor?" she shouted. "Rory? Ummm... Sexy? Anyone?" Amy pushed herself into the middle of the street and spun around, frantically looking for her friends. Finally she sprinted across the street, causing many cars and double decker busses to honk at her desperate form.

"What happened to the snow?" she asked a random pedestrian, wiping tears from her face.

"I'm sorry?" The pedestrian was a woman in her thirties, her dirty blonde hair in a loose braid over her nurse's scrubs. Barf blue nursing scrubs, just like Rory's. R o r y. Maybe that was why I asked her, Amy thought, which only made her want to sob harder.

"It was snowing, just moments ago," Amy said once she had regained composure.

"Honey, it's June. It hasn't snowed for months now. Rain, of course, but no snow."

June? It couldn't possibly be June. "June of what year?"

"2012," the woman looked at Amy questioningly, her eyebrows arched. "Are you okay?

"I'm fine. Perfectly fine," Amy replied, backing away slowly. The woman nurse may remind me of Rory, she thought, but that doesn't mean she will hesitate before putting me in a mental hospital. "I'm great, actually. Fantastic! Thats what I am- fantastic!" The woman nodded slowly as Amy dashed back across another street and into a double decker bus. Amy swore she heard her mutter a phrase that broke her down in minutes: "That girl needs a doctor."

Amy was kicked off the double decker bus after a grand total of three stops, when the driver realized that she had no pass and no way of paying for her trip. They were still in London, but the stores were shabbier and it was less crowded on the sidewalk. Amy sunk down to the ground and put her head in her hands, just as it started to rain. Of course.

Amy could feel that people were giving her backwards glances, probably thinking she was a homeless person. I'm not homeless, she thought. Amy looked up at the now grey sky, wondering where and when Rory and the Doctor were. All I did was touch that stupid box, she thought, and now I'm stuck here.

She could have been sitting there for hours before she heard the crash. The sky had turned a dark purple, not a star in the sky. Vincent would have liked to paint this, she thought absentmindedly as she jumped up, her eyes scanning the horizon for a familiar blue box.

In the middle of the crosswalk, a blonde woman in her fifties was hunched over about a dozen shopping bags, which were spilling out over the street. I guess that's where the crash came from. Amy's heart sank. They hadn't come for her yet. She was left to wait. Again.

Amy's little bit of sanity left sent her towards the woman in the street. Instinctively, she began to fold the glittery tops and dresses that had fallen out of the designer bags. Then Amy helped the woman up, assisting her until she was precariously holding all of her bags, with a hat box on top.

"Thanks, hun," the woman said in a friendly cockney accent. Her bleached blonde hair was up in a messy ponytail with her bangs falling in her eyes. "Say, you look like a new addition to the unemployed in this area. I haven't seen you in these parts."

Amy felt her cheeks grow red. Of course, the woman thought she was homeless. Trying to muster up an inconspicuous english accent, Amy said, "Yeah. I lost me job just a couple of days ago. My rent was due... yesterday. I got kicked out."

The woman nodded her head vigorously. "The unemployment rates today are just horrid! My daughter's boyfriend is unemployed, and he won't even look for a job in a shop. He just sits, eats chips, and watches the telly! It's outrageous!"

Amy nodded, only half paying attention. "You should kick him out."

"I should! Fat lot of good he is. My daughter lost her job too, only she had enough sense to go and find a job in a shop, bring in rent! She still lives with me, mind you. Moneys been tight, especially since she's got two mouths to feed!"

Amy felt her eyes glaze over. "Uh-huh."

The woman turned towards her. "You could use a job in a shop, couldn't ya'? My daughter works at a shop, just down the way. Always complaining that her job is understaffed, she is. I bet she could get you a job there!" Amy's face went slack. A job? She wasn't going to be wherever this was for so long... was she?

Too late. The blonde woman was already taking a pen out of her pocket. Amy offered up her hand, and the woman scribbled an address onto her palm. Then the woman started down the cross walk. As she hit the sidewalk, Amy thought of a question. "Wait! Excuse me, but what is your daughter's name, for me to use as a reference?"

The woman turned around, her green eyes bright. "Her name is Rose. Rose Tyler."