'This is completely wrong,' Rory said firmly as he sat down with his back against a rock nearby. They were on a small island in the middle of a pristine harbour. The TARDIS had dropped them here for some solitary time together but Rory's face suggested he thought it was more like a prison term than an enjoyable outing.
'It's not wrong, it's different. Come on – we need to live a little.' As she spoke, Amy spread the picnic food from the flax basket she had picked up 'to be like a local.'
'It's not wrong to have that,' he pointed skywards, 'at Christmas time? It should be snowing and cold and we should be indoors with cocoa and scarves on. Not here in this weather. It's wrong,' he reiterated stubbornly, staring at the blazing sun above them with suspicious eyes.
Amy rolled her eyes. 'You've been to Venice in the 1500s. You've seen aliens, fought monsters, been plastic ... but out of all that the thing you can't deal with is a bit of sun at Christmas?'
'Those were big unusual things. This is just totally counterintuitive.'
Amy laughed and slid over beside him. 'I'll remember that for next time and make sure the TARDIS takes us to some ice planet for Christmas, or something.' She kissed him. 'Anything to stop this whining ...'
Rory opened his mouth to protest; Amy cut him off by slipping some strawberries into his mouth.
When he had chewed through them he said, 'and that's another thing. Strawberries at Christmas time ... it's just wrong.'
'Rory, shut up and enjoy yourself. Pretend we're on Mars or something!'
Rory couldn't resist when she smiled at him in that way; he leaned over, picked up a strawberry and fed it to Amy.
'I guess this isn't so bad,' he said.