A/N: Thanks for reading, and enjoy. Poor Rory.

I kinda feel like it don't make, like it don't make
Feel like it don't make sense
I'm thinking baby you and I are undeniable
But I'm finding out love's unreliable
I'm giving all I got to make you stay
Or am I just a roadblock in your way?

Rory had a pathological need to check his pocket.

Ring still there? …Yep. Good.

Five minutes later he would find himself reaching for the inner jacket of his rented suit (not a tux, just a plain suit) for that reassuring weight.

It had taken a couple of weeks for Rory to get his confidence back, and another couple for him to plan something else. He couldn't just ask, it needed to be something special. Amy deserved that much. He was taking her to a classy restaurant, and he had the ring, so nothing could go wrong this time. As long as he kept it together.

He paced back and forth in Amy's front garden, trying to calm down his nerves. It was a patch of lumpy, light-green grass with a few stray wildflowers peeking up. Her aunt had died months after she'd come of age, so Amy just stayed in this old thing. It was so big, empty, and in such a state of disrepair, it always gave Rory the creeps. She said she liked the solitude, no one yammering while she tried to relax. Rory thought it was unsafe and unhealthy for her to live out here alone. Especially in this old house. But Rory knew why she really was staying.

The Doctor. Always the Doctor with her.

She was taking forever. Ever since Amy discovered makeup at fifteen, she was incorrigible, even though Rory barely noticed a difference. Rory sat on the top doorstep, angling his body away from the door, and pulled out the small box. It had taken him ages to save up for this thing. It was an elegant and simple ring, with one diamond and sloping gold band. He fingered the precious stone, stomach clenching as he thought of what Amy would think of it. Of him.

"Sorry to keep you waiting!" came Amy's voice behind him as the door swung open with a whine. Rory felt lightning shock and panic hit his chest while he fumbled with quietly closing the box and tucking it back into his pocket. He finally turned around, smiling, heart still pounding.

"It's no problem. Wow, you look amazing," he said, taking in her curled hair and the long, flowing purple dress that accentuated her willowy body. He hadn't seen it before.

"I know," she said with a smirk, and strode up to him, sliding her palms down his shoulders to his chest. "And look at you, all fancy! I can hardly recognize you without a vest or a hoodie!" She said, toying with the seam of his jacket. Her fingertips left his skin tingling warmly, and he was nervous she'd feel the square shape in his jacket. "And I love your hair. It's a nice change of pace," she said, running a finger along the top of his hair, carefully combed to the side.

"Thanks, glad you noticed," Rory said, and then moved away. Amy frowned for a second, but looped her arm through his as they walked down the steps.

"This is so great. You're spoiling me," she said as she climbed into Rory's little red car.

"You deserve it." Rory checked the mirrors, and then pulled onto the road.

"Don't say things like that," Amy reprimanded as she clipped her seatbelt into place. Rory was adamant about seatbelts.

"Why not?" Rory asked tightly. "You do."

"Just… don't. It's weird."

Rory just drove, quiet and a bit broody.

"Sorry," he said quietly.

"Don't look so sad," Amy said, making a puppy face, and putting a playful hand on his arm.

"Sorry."

"Stop apologizing. It's so English." Amy narrowed her eyes dangerously. Whether it was in jest or not was uncertain.

"Sor - Okay."

Amy giggled and retreated fully to the other side of the car. Rory wondered if she just liked to see how much power she had over him, which was nearly absolute. 'Nearly' being the last shred of his pride that Rory held onto with a grip that was all too loose.

"So, how was your day?" Rory asked warmly, unable to resist a smile. Amy was here, she was happy, and they were on their way to a fun and romantic evening. At least hopefully.

"Hmm, it was alright. Nothing exciting, really. Par for the course," Amy said with a disdainful look at the city through her window. The entire town of Leadworth was, according to her, unfortunately and terminally English; the little village had just carried on as always, and refused to be changed by events too big for it. But she dared not leave. Rule number one of Amy Pond: The Doctor.

Normally at this point in the conversation, you would expect the person to ask you the same question. Amy wasn't one to follow social cues for the sake of it, and Rory wasn't surprised when she didn't turn the question back on him.

"I've been thinking, maybe we should try and get his attention, you know?" she said, and suddenly seemed less confident, repeatedly smoothing out her dress.

"Why? He's got a time machine. If he wanted to come back, he would have done."

"Did you miss the part where he's a total idiot?" Amy asked with Scottish sarcasm. "Maybe he just needs some help."

Again, this endless obsession. Rory understood why she was this way, he really did. The Doctor had been the daydream and hope that carried her through a somewhat lonely childhood. Rory and Mels were her only friends, and it was really more of an outcast club than anything else. When at school, Rory was invisible, unless he was the butt of a joke. Mels had been a whirlwind. She was more of a charity case than a friend for Amy and Rory. A girl being raised in foster care who scared off anyone within five minutes because of her forceful nature. Of course Amy had been drawn to her, and Rory had followed along timidly, even though he'd normally never talk to such a scary girl. Then again, he had befriended Amy.

Since she had no family aside from her aunt, Amy tended to be something of a loner. More than once, Rory had been told to back off because she needed more time to herself. The Doctor had been a constant, her Raggedy Man who was always going to come back for her because he'd picked her. He couldn't truly fault her for that when they were growing up, and Mels had disappeared to 'see the world' as she called it, 'end up in prison' as Amy and Rory called it (something they actually agreed on).

But now?

"Amy, maybe it's time to grow up," he suggested as gently as possible. "He's gone. He saved the planet, now he's gone off."

"Grow up?" Amy asked sharply. Okay, wrong choice of words. "How can you tell me to grow up?! You're the one that needs to grow up! Think about it Rory, all those planets and aliens that are out there, and you just want to stay here in Leadworth?"

I don't care about Leadworth, I'd follow you anywhere, Rory thought, but kept it to himself. "Yeah, I know. I've been reading up on theories, researching stuff. Aliens are everywhere and no one even realizes it," Rory said, gesturing with the hand that wasn't driving. He was really interested by other worlds too - it was impossible not to be - but Amy didn't know how to let it go.

"Exactly! And I've only got one life, I don't want to waste it here in the exact same way that everyone else does," she said, picking up on the half-positive response she'd gotten.

"But you can't just run away from all this Amy. People here care about you."

Amy scowled. "Really? Because I hadn't noticed," she grumbled. Rory winced, that stung, but he said nothing else.

They drifted off into other channels of conversation for the rest of the car ride to the nearest actual city (Leadworth didn't have any fancy restaurants), and they were both laughing at Amy's story of how she'd been trying to subdue a squirrel that had gotten into her house yesterday. This, right here, Rory could do.

"Ready, Miss Pond?" Rory asked, opening the door for Amy and extending an arm with a dorky grin.

"Thank you, kind sir," Amy said. Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she linked her arm in his and slammed the car door shut. They entered the establishment, a small but pleasant place. They were instantly taken to a small round table that had two candles.

"Can I get you some champagne?" their pretty server asked after lighting the candles.

"Yeah, white chardonnay for both of us, right?" Rory asked, glancing at Amy for confirmation.

"Yep," Amy answered cheerfully. "As a rule, I never drink it unless I can't say its name when I'm drunk."

The server laughed and left, and they fell into pleasant conversation until their champagne was brought, and then gave their orders. Amy was pretty big on eating healthy and took the gluten-free option, while Rory went with some red pasta.

Rory swallowed as Amy took a sip of her champagne - this was going to be a slightly more difficult part.

"Um, Amy, I think you've got a little-" he gestured to his face.

"I've got a what?" Amy asked, looking confused.

"You know," he said, gesturing to his face again.

"O - kay…" Amy said, cocking her head. Her attention was grabbed by - something. She just sort of jerked, and then laughed. "Oh, that's my phone!" she said.

"Your phone? But you don't have any pockets…" Rory trailed off when Amy whipped her phone out of her dress. He didn't know girls actually, really kept their phones… there… He tried not to stare at the object and think about where it had been.

"Oh, it's Marie! I've got to take this!" Amy said apologetically, and then rushed off in the direction of the restrooms. Rory sighed. One way was as good as another, he supposed.

He glanced around (not that it mattered), pulled out the box, and opened it. The diamond glinted and glittered in the low, rich light of the candles. He pulled out the band, and with a deep breath, dropped it into Amy's glass. Done.

He pulled out his own phone after waiting about five minutes (out of a proper pocket, thank you very much), and had played several games of a cheap rip off of Pong when his girlfriend (girlfriend!) reappeared.

"Sorry that took so long," Amy said, grinning. Rory tucked his phone away, and was rather relieved that hers was already out of sight. He could feel his pulse in his neck, and he forced himself not to glance at her glass.

"It's fine. Is everything okay?" he asked, smiling a bit in reflection of her.

"Yeah, Marie just called to tell me she's preggers!" Amy said excitedly. "And you know how she's a party animal, that'll be a big change."

Rory frowned. "She's got to lay off the booze, then."

"Yeah, that's what I told her. And she said she would if I would, so starting now, I won't drink a drop of alcohol until she's delivered," Amy said proudly.

"O-o-okay, that's nice," Rory stammered.

"You alright?" Amy asked suspiciously.

"Yeah, yeah, fine. Just fine. That's a nice thing to do," he said a bit woodenly.

"Women stick together," she joked, and placed an elbow on the table. Rory noticed her makeup all of a sudden - purple on the eyelid, black on the outside, blueish eyeliner, mascara…

"Hey, earth to Rory!" came Amy's voice, and he snapped out of it.

"You sure you're okay?" she asked again.

"Yes. Sorry. I'm always great when you're here," Rory told her. A bit mushy, but it reminded him that he was happy she was here, and helped him swallow the cold disappointment in his stomach.

Amy looked kind of embarrassed. "Wow. That's weird. Even though we've been together so long, I still think of you as my best friend. And you say stuff like that and it just… sounds weird," she said. Rory felt like an idiot now.

But then, Amy did like idiots, after all.