Chapter 2: The Doctor who wasn't there
Two months after calling the modeling scout Amy's face was on displays in stores all over the country advertising a new perfume, Petrichor, for the girl who is tired of waiting. Amy sighed as she walked by her face in a department store. She loved the smell of the perfume, and the name was one of her favorite words, but the slogan made Amy feel that the universe was mocking her. Her melancholy was interrupted when a little girl ran up and asked for her autograph. Amy smiled, she never thought that she'd have people asking for her autograph. As she handed the pen back to the girl she glanced towards the lingerie department. She could have sworn she'd seen the Doctor duck behind a clothing rack.
"Rory, did you just see anything unusual?"
Rory shifted the bags he was carrying with a grunt, and said, "I can't see anything around this immense amount of stuff you are making me carry."
"Silly husband, we're not even half way done. I don't have a magic wardrobe anymore."
She looked back towards the clothing rack. It couldn't be him. The Doctor she knew wouldn't be caught dead surrounded by women's lingerie. She remembered skipping into the console room one day not long after she arrived on the Tardis to ask him how she was supposed to do laundry. He waved one hand at her without looking up and said, "The Tardis takes care of it."
"But can she do delicates? Or is there some special soap I have to provide, button I have to push?"
"Delicates, of course she's delicate," he mutters.
"No Doctor, I mean d-e-l-i-c-a-t-e-s," she slowly and carefully pronounces the word. When he doesn't respond she marches over to him and shakes his shoulder.
He looks up to see her waving something in his face. When he realizes the black lacy thing in her hand is a bra he turns red and backs up so fast he trips over his own feet. Amy laughs.
"Erm, um, yes, I mean no, I mean yes. The Tardis can handle any laundry, now must go, have that thing, can't wait," and he turns and flees the room.
Amy smiles at the memory, her silly Doctor. He'd stand up to hordes of hostile aliens, but one bra sent him running. A lingerie department is the last place he'd be, unless, he didn't realize that's where he was? No, not even the Doctor could be that daft. And without another glance Amy walked away Rory trailing behind her.