Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long! Life happened.

I hope you enjoy this chapter, and all of the angst(admit it, it's cathardic).

I don't own Doctor Who…yet…it will happen ;)

Feel free to leave comments and review!

Peace, Love, ALLONSY!

"Surprise!" a chorus of voices called out from the apartment that had been seemingly empty moments beforehand. Amy jumped backwards, instinctively grabbing onto a near candlestick and gripping it tightly, ready to use it to strike any threat.

"Happy Birthday!" the voices called out, mostly in sync. Rory stepped out of the crowd and towards Amy, hands cautiously held out in defensive position.

"It's okay, Amy, it's just me and some friends from work," Rory whispered, carefully prying the candlestick from her fingers.

"I know you don't like surprises I just thought since it's your big thirtieth, and well, I really wanted to see the look on your face," Rory laughed nervously, lips brushing over Amy's fingers which he had brought up to his face. Her frozen face quickly turned into that of a redhead's scorn and she quickly withdrew her fingers from Rory's grasp to bring her palm across his face.

"That," she whispered, fury building up in her voice, "is for scaring the daylights out of me." Rory tenderly touched his cheek, still burning from her slap.

"And this," Amy whispered, scooping Rory's chin into her hands and giving him a quick but passionate kiss, "is for remembering my birthday. Stupid Face," she added as an afterthought, giving him a light punch and turning to remember there were more guests. "Thank you all for coming, it's very kind of you!" With that statement, she tugged a still-stunned Rory by his hand to go and mingle with the half-smiling, half-gaping crowd.

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday Dear Amy, Happy Birthday to you," her friends sang out as Amy awkwardly glanced from face to face. She never knew what to do in this situation. She settled on entwining her fingers in Rory's and blushing, looking down at their connected hands. With the last chord, she bent down and blew out the three candles sitting on top of the crudely frosted chocolate cake. She smiled at Rory again as she thought about the effort he must have put into it.

"Alright, everyone, let's have some cake," Amy laughed, picking the candles out of the decadent cake and licking the frosting off of the bottom. Rory squeezed her hand and she looked back at him to see him a little stunned.

"What?" she asked, reaching for the knife in her peripheral vision.

"What, um, oh, nothing," Rory stuttered, smiling as an afterthought. "Just…happy birthday."

"Okay," Amy replied, still unsure. She always knew when something was wrong with Rory. She figured it would be best to talk to him when the guests were gone though. Taking the knife, she carefully cut the cake, attempting to make the strokes as even as possible.

"Who wants the first slice?"

"Happy Birthday," Rory whispered, opening a black jewelry box to reveal a small diamond heart connected to a silver chain.

"Rory," Amy breathed, looking from the necklace to her husband's face and back again. "You shouldn't have. How many extra shifts did you have to put in to get this?" she asked, now realizing why her husband had been coming home late recently. All the times he claimed he was going out for a drink with the boys must've been spent toiling away at the hospital.

"It doesn't matter," Rory replied, eyes darkening for a second before returning to their warm, loving nature. "Just, turn around for me?" Amy hesitated for a second before complying, rotating to face bare wall.

Rory gently put the necklace around her neck, gingerly lifting her hair after fastening the clasp. He stood there for a second, relishing the scent of her shampoo before turning her around and giving her a light peck on her forehead.

"Rory it's beautiful," Amy whispered, willing to forget for a moment what he must have gone through to buy it. She was sure they would argue later, but she didn't want to yet, not on her birthday.

"You're beautiful," he whispered back, giving her another kiss on her cheek before sitting down on their couch and propping his feet on their coffee table. Amy gave out a small laugh, looking down at her husband. He truly had adapted to this life, their life. Thinking about it, she realized she had gotten used to this life as well.

"I feel old," Amy commented, plopping down on the dingy couch next to Rory. She snuggled up next to him, tucking her legs up next to her. The party had been fun, but entertaining guests could be tiring and she found her eyelids heavier by the minute.

"You're thirty Amy. I wouldn't exactly call that ancient," Rory huffed, strangely callous.

"What's wrong Rory?" Amy asked. There was something that had been bothering him all day, she could tell. She had avoided it earlier, but she wasn't going to go to share their bed with him if he was going to be throwing a hissy fit.

"Nothing, I'm sorry. It's-" Rory sighed, putting his arm around her shoulder.

"Don't you tell me nothing is wrong, Rory Williams. You've been like a hormonal teenage girl on her period the whole day. What's bothering you?" she demanded, pulling away from him and his arm.

They sat there in the silence, eyes searching each other for many tense moments. Amy refused to speak first; her husband was going to explain what was going on.

"I had so much to give you, Amy, back when I was…plastic. No rent to pay, no food to eat, and a nearly constant income for nearly 2,000 years. I had boxes full of gifts I bought you each birthday. Jewelry and paintings, pressed flowers and candies. I could've bought you a mansion, no joke. And now," Rory trailed off, avoiding eye contact.

"Is that what this is about?" Amy demanded. "You think I care about gifts? About lavish jewelry and mansions?" Rory finally met her eyes.

"I only care about you, Rory. We're together now, and that's all that matters," Amy said, holding his gaze with her own. A tear trickled down his face and he pulled her into a warm embrace.

"We're together."