I'll admit it, I pretty much straight up stole the central idea in this chapter from The Girl Who Waited. Far, far, far too good to pass up. Updates will slow after this chapter, whilst I work out where the story is going in the short to medium term.
CHAPTER 4. The Sonic Phone: 28 September 2010
Amy's new-found abilities developed quickly over the following weeks under the Doctor's careful tuition. It wasn't all smooth sailing – more than once, the pair had gotten into rather heated disagreements over the meaning of a certain smell, or the function of a certain level on the TARDIS. Naturally, with over nine hundred years of experience, the Doctor was convinced he was right, and equally naturally, Amy (being Amy) was equally convinced she was correct.
The arguments concluded after a rather heated row over the function of a thin golden lever which the Doctor swore was completely useless, but Amy steadfastly insisted that it was the secondary chameleon circuit, something the Doctor quickly resolved never to use. Amy gave the Doctor a glare that he suspected would make a Dalek beg for mercy, and he quickly bottled any further arguments he might have had.
"Time Lord or not," she'd heard him muttering, "I'm having nothing to do with that look ever again."
To his immense irritation, he discovered that she had been correct after the TARDIS turned itself into a passable impersonation of a large hedge whilst they were defeating the Ophiotaur, an alien that had been accidentally causing wildfires in Ancient Greece with its ten-foot flaming tail. Having quite literally buried the problem by sealing it in an underground cave, they spent two days fruitlessly searching for the police box.
Eventually, Amy's patience had run out and she'd leaned back, exhausted, on an innocent-looking hedgerow only to find herself falling backwards into the TARDIS console room. The Doctor quickly set about removing the rod after using it to revert the big blue box back to its big blue box form, muttering darkly to himself and refusing to acknowledge the ginger's slightly smug smile.
"Damned manuals," he'd growled as he'd piloted them away.
Some weeks after the incident, Amy found herself sitting in her favourite plush TARDIS-blue armchair besides the sparkling blue waters of the swimming pool, flicking through the pages of the ancient, dusty tome. Information poured into her head, the alien curls, circles and dots imprinting themselves effortlessly in her forever altered brain.
Hmm, sonic screwdriver, ought to get myself one of those, she mused.After all, the Doctor used his often enough – it could hardly hurt to have two. She flicked over the page, finding dozens of diagrams and associated annotations. Based on the instructions, construction looked easy enough, requiring only an electronic transmitter and some king of crystal – hey!
Excited by the sudden idea that had flashed up in her mind, she pulled out her plain old mobile phone, examining it as if she'd never seen it before.
And to think I used to spend hours lying on bed texting Rory with this thing.
Buzzing with energy, she dropped the oversized manual on the couch and raced out of the library.
For the Doctor, teaching Amy the ins and outs of Time Lord theory and how to utilise her almost-unique abilities was an immensely rewarding experience – if at times immensely frustrating, as often happened when dealing with the fire-haired Scottish now-Time Lady. Her delight when he taught her how to tell the date simply by smelling the air triggered recollections of his own wonder upon learning the same thing so many centuries previously, and he counted himself truly blessed to be have been able to experience the feeling once again.
More importantly, however, it allowed him both a useful distraction and breathing space to think about the dilemma that had been plaguing him for weeks.
On three separate occasions he'd resolved to fly the TARDIS back to Leadworth to pick up Rory and force the issue – but at the last moment stopped himself with his hand on the take-off lever, caving into his doubts. Amy, thankfully, remained blissfully unaware. He'd been very careful to shield his less-than-sunny emotions from her telepathic abilities – which were developing at a scarcely believable rate, even for a Time Lord – ever since he'd almost been caught out. She seemed to be returning the favour even more forcefully, something which surprised and alarmed him slightly.
Engrossed in his own thoughts, he forgot to take a right-hand turn at a corridor junction that would have led him back to his own room, and instead ended up somewhere completely different. Another bedroom, in fact.
Amy's bedroom.
Oops, he thought, his eyes wide and his pulse quickening. Mercifully, the room was empty, giving him a chance to thank his lucky stars and slink quietly away.
His natural curiosity got the better of him, however, and he crept inside. He kept his footfalls light, as if she were asleep in the empty bed and any undue noise would wake her and make her take his head off. As he did so, he took a moment to glance around the room, taking it in the for the first time.
Predictably, the room had been painted TARDIS blue. The blankets in the four-poster bed were unmade, having been roughly tossed aside. Clearly not one for neatness, he noted with amusement. The bedside table held a simple leather-bound TARDIS-blue diary and a photograph, one he recognised from last month's trip to Polaris X. Amy was smiling peacefully at the camera, the brilliant white light illuminating her from behind. He could see himself in the background, giving a thumbs-up with a goofy grin plastered on his face. He smiled fondly at the memory.
He was about to turn and leave, but his gaze caught something resting beneath the table. A small red box.
Is that...?
He moved slowly towards the table and bent down to pick it up. It was obvious that it had fallen there some weeks previously and had remained unmoved, unnoticed since then. He opened it slowly, his hands trembling.
A jewel encrusted golden ring lay within, the soft light of the room reflecting entrancingly from its surface. He stared it for a good minute before snapping the box shut and laying it on the table, his expression hardened.
Enough.
He raced back to the control room. This time, there was no hesitation in pulling down the green lever to take the time machine back to the 25th of June, 2010, and a small English village named Leadworth.
Amy stood, wiping the thick layer of sweat off her brow. The TARDIS workshop bench was covered in wires, pieces of circuitry and alien tools. The disassembled remains of an old radio that had previously lived in the pool room lay on the bench, next to the mangled pieces of a small LCD television set which had been plucked from a dusty storeroom.
It had taken much longer than she initially hoped (which idiot had had the brilliant idea of putting the microphone and speaker on the same circuit?), but after several hours of careful prying, more than a few of the angry expletive-filled rants only a Scot could muster and the occasional use of a hammer, she was brimming with excitement at her handiwork. She lifted her phone – her sonic phone – although it was almost unrecognisable as such, with wires and strange pieces of metal wrapped around its body, a sparkling purple crystal attached to the end. The same one, in fact, that had once embedded itself in her right thigh.
She sucked in her breath, pointing the device at a drawer of nails, and pushed the '5' button on the phone. In response, she heard a familiar buzzing noise and saw a bright purple light blazing from the end of the device. Instantly, the drawer burst open, the collection of bolts it held spraying themselves across the room. She giggled and did the same to all the other drawers in the TARDIS workshop. They flew open in exactly the same manner, depositing their contents across the polished concrete floor.
Peals of laughter bouncing about the room, she experimented with all the buttons on her phone, watching as various devices and tools lit up, shot about, unfolded and glowed in every imaginable colour, sparks flying across the floor. Amongst the din, she didn't notice the Doctor tramping in the corridor beyond, barrelling into the room.
"Pond! There you are. Where have-"
His stopped mid-sentence, eyes wide with shock as he noticed the state of the room.
"What in the world have you been doing here?"
Amy spun around in her chair, the slightest tinge of an embarrassed flush creeping into her cheeks.
"Doctor! Erm..." She trailed off, unsure how to explain.
"How did you get here? What – what – have you been doing?" he inquired, stunned disbelief written across her face.
Amy fought the urge to laugh. "Just, you know, experimenting."
"You were experimenting?"
She gave him a dazzling smile and held up her phone. Her sonic phone.
The Doctor's eyes narrowed as he caught sight of the strange, mangled device, and then widened again, as wide as Amy had ever seen them. He pointed at it, his hand trembling. "You – you turned your phone into a..."
She nodded. Fumbling in his jacket, he pulled out his own sonic screwdriver and scanned the phone with it. Inspecting the results, a broad grin grew on his face.
"You did. You really did. You turned your phone into a sonic, er-"
"Sonic phone. It still gets reception." A sharp laugh escaped his lips, and he scanned it again.
"No psychic interface, so how..." he muttered, inspecting the scan results. "Oh. Ah. That's... brilliant. The keypad controls the frequencies. Amelia Pond, you are brilliant and magnificent. Come here," he said joyfully, opening her arms as she threw herself around him. He spun her around dizzyingly, her laughter mingling with his. "How did you do that, anyway? Making sonic screwdrivers – sonic phones, sorry," correcting himself after Amy shot him a withering glance "isn't something you just pick up on the fly." Amy laughed.
"Doctor, some of us actually read the instructions, you know," she replied, amusement twinkling in her vivid green eyes.
"Very funny, Pond," he retorted, unable to keep the broad grin off his face. He looked at his ginger-haired friend, their gaze locking together. For the briefest instant, they both thought – no, they felt something shift deep within the other, a connection bridging the deepest part of the two souls, Time Lord to Time Lady.
Amy blinked, the strange feeling disappearing at once.
"So, you wanted to see me about something?" Amy asked.
The Doctor's smile froze in place. He'd completely forgotten about why he'd come here. Rory.
"Yes," he replied, keeping his voice falsely bright and cheery. "Come along Pond. Oh, and you're cleaning that up, by the way," he remarked as he led her out of the room.
Astute, knowledgeable readers will note that in the extremely unlikely chance that Polaris does have a stable planetary system, any planet will be absolutely certainly not a place you would want to visit. Ever. Put it down to creative license and all that.