Nineteen

A nineteen year old Amy Pond stood in the kitchen listening to Jody ramble on about her latest man and the gossip in the village.

As much as she loved her friend, she wished she came with a mute button at times.

"-And he said 'What? I was only 10 minutes late!' and I had to remind him he'd spent the whole half hour pampering his care more than me and-"

As if someone were watching over Amy, the phone started ringing, cutting off Jody's ramblings.

"Hold that thought." Amy said and rushed to get the phone. It was someone calling to book her for her services tomorrow.

"Sure I'll be there. Any preference? Okay I can do that." She grinned. "Okay, bye."

She walked back into the kitchen. "Looks like I have plans tomorrow after all."

"Good girl!" Jody laughed. "Who is it? Where is he?"

"Some eighteen year old in the next village." Amy grinned.

"What's his type?"

"Either police woman or French maid. Either way, surprise him."

"Oh, I'm sure you will!" Jody laughed and she glanced at the clock which showed 6:45pm. "Oh, better get going, Damien will wonder where I am." She grinned, hugged her friend and walked out the room and to the door. "And remember! Just because you've given Rory a second chance does not mean he can walk all over you."

"I know." Amy smiled softly, following her out. "He'll be paying for a long time."

"Good to hear. Lemme know how you get on tomorrow, and I want all the details, Pond!" Jody grinned and walked out of the unkempt garden.

Amy sighed and shut the door. "Right. Nice soak in the bath and then curl up in bed to a good film... providing Rory doesn't come here at the end of his shift." She said to herself and made her way up the stairs to the bathroom to run her bath.

She tugged her vibrant red hair into a tight messy bun as she walked into her bedroom and she took off what little make up she wore.

"Better lock the door..." she murmured once she'd done and she walked down the stairs to lock the doors and she walked back up the stairs into the bathroom and turned off the taps, stepping out her clothes and into the hot water, letting out a long sigh.

She stepped out after a long half an hour, pulling out the plug and wrapping herself in her towel and pink dressing gown and made her way into her bedroom, collapsing on her bed and she switched on her TV, eventually drifting off to sleep.

The alarm blared, ripping Amy from her dreams that were rapidly slipping from her memory. She looked up blurrily as she slammed her hand down on the offending object that had woke her up, looking at the time.

"10 AM. That's the latest I've slept in since I was in school." She muttered, and she pushed herself up and out of bed to get herself ready.

She walked out of her bedroom; having lost the towel somewhere in her sleep and she tugged the dressing gown tighter around her body as she made her way into the kitchen to make herself a coffee to wake herself up. She saw a note on the fridge in the familiar scrawl of her aunt's. "Yeah you don't need to remind me of Jeff coming round to sort out Rory's bloody car..." she muttered. "He needs a new one, that's what he bloody needs." She added, taking the note, screwing it in a ball and throwing it in the bin.

When done, she took the coffee into her bedroom, placing the cup on the bedside table, and started on getting ready, and she walked over to her wardrobe. She got both desired outfits and placed them on her bed, and looked thoughtfully between the two, as though waiting for one of them to jump up and say "pick me". She really was going mad.

She turned to the mirror to put on her usual thin layer of makeup and then picked up the police outfit, grinning. She put the other one away, put on the police outfit and ran a brush through her hair once she'd taken it from the bun.

That was when she heard the strange, metallic, whirring sound she hadn't heard since she was seven years old. She hurriedly put on her shoes, and clipped the fake radio to her waist jacket and she waited.

'Click' went the lock on the front door, and then a man shouting her name, telling her she needed to leave, and something about... Prisoner Zero...?

'Who the hell does he think he is?' she thought, instantly recognising the voice from her childhood and anger bubbled up inside her.

She looked around the room, Rory's old cricket bat was peeping out from the mess under her bed. She bent and picked it up, along with the handcuffs that were conveniently lying beside it.

'How did they end up on the floor?' she thought, but pushed it to the back of her mind when she heard footsteps up the stairs and across the landing and she peered outside her bedroom door. 'Twelve years and he hasn't changed that shirt?' she thought creeping out, biting her lip when she'd stepped on that notoriously creaky floorboard, and watching him turn to face her, and in one swing, she smacked him across the head with the bat, watching as he dropped at her feet.

She dropped the bat, and dragged him over to the radiator the other end of the landing and she cuffed one of his wrists to it. Nothing to do now but wait.