So the Doctor went out. Nodding to the receptionist and saying a quick "No, thank you" to the lei distributor, he left the foyer and walked out into the bright afternoon sunslight. The scenery was beautiful, and as he walked further away from the hotel he could see more of it and found himself impressed by the natural beauty of the world; the more commercial parts being up the coast a bit. He turned right, heading for the cliffs overlooking the ocean.
Within half an hour he was bored. There was a reason he always went on adventures, fought danger and sought mischief, because he had never been much of a 'walking for the sake of walking' type of man. With only this to occupy his time, he was bored. Of course he was worried about Amy, of course he was, but his mighty, huge brain was fantastic at multi-tasking. When Amy had been in grave danger earlier, his whole brain focused on that, but with her safely tucked up in a hotel room, the Doctor had room to think about other things. These other things occupied his mind for about as long as he remained interested in them, and within half an hour, he was back to thinking about Amy.
He was sad, because she was. He was scared that she would want to leave. He was... he was feeling something about her that he was trying to squash down, and had been trying to squash since she had first kissed him, back in her bedroom oh so long ago.
The Doctor stopped himself before he let himself think too far down that road, and tried to focus on the planet. He looked to his feet, where he saw the sand beneath them ripple, mirroring the waves on the ocean. He saw a twig being rolled across the sand, before being stopped when the system decided it wasn't considered trash. He wondered what they did with the trash at the hotel; did they throw it out on the sand for the natural world to deal with? He hoped not, but he decided that they probably did... he could remember the planet being shut temporarily for cleaning a few centuries ahead of now. He should find out what the hotel does with the rubbish, at least for something to do. He wondered which room was Amy's; he scanned the building, trying to remember. Floor twelve, it had been, and how many doors? Four, he decided, four from the lifts. And the lifts were parallel to the foyer... so that would make that window Amy's. He pulled out a pair of glasses from his pocket, a pair that doubled up as binoculars, and focused on the window. He could see a wall, and the edge of a painting, but no Amy. Was she alright? He found himself panicking a bit, and forced himself to calm down. There was plenty of the room that he couldn't see; she would be in that part. Where ever she was, she would be fine. There was no danger to her on this planet, he made sure of it. He double, triple checked that this planet was safe, that no harm could come to Amy during their stay here.
For Amy, he would suffer boredom.
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