A/N: This chapter was mostly inspired by the picture that River finds in Amy's room in Pandorica Opens, of Amy and Rory in these costumes. Poor, poor Rory. Oh, and for those of you who live in the US and Canada, 'potholing' is apparently the English word for 'spelunking'. Who knew. Thanks for reading!

'Cause your a pretty little windstorm
Out on the boulevard
Something like a sunset
Oh, you're a shooting star
And I might drive myself insane
If those lips aren't speaking my name

This time, this time he would do it right, Rory told himself. No mistakes.

He'd only taken about a week to get this one ready. It was a simple enough plan; couldn't go wrong. …Right?

Tonight was Halloween, Amy's favourite time of the year. She'd dressed up in her policewoman costume, the one that made Rory go a bit red in the face every time he looked at her. Rory had worked for weeks on his Roman costume: He'd saved up for the high quality armor, and had sewn his own cape. With the combined help of several youtube videos, and kindly old ladies that lived down the street, he had it done; even though his hands looked like he'd been doing acupuncture therapy - that much Amy had assured him.

He and Amy had gone to the town costume party, a small (as everything was in Leadworth) affair at the park that were nearby the ruins. They had a great time, and Rory had made sure to have several friends take pictures of the two of them in their costumes, to be treasured (hopefully) by the two of them for years to come. They had both received tons of compliments on their respective costumes. Now things were dying down, and people were streaming out to go home - Leadworth was not a partying town by any stretch of the word. Half the inhabitants were over seventy years old.

The two of them had separated themselves from the general rabble and found an unoccupied patch of grass, and held hands while they talked and looked up at the stars. So far, things had gone well. Upon Amy's declaration that she was hungry, they both got up and started heading out. Everyone else was long gone, they were the only ones, it seemed, under the stars tonight.

"Want to go and get a sandwich?" Rory offered with an easy smile, his arm around her waist. She had an arm slung in casual camaraderie around his shoulders, her free arm swinging carelessly by her side as they walked away from the park.

"I'm always up for a sandwich," Amy said with a flirtatious smile as she glanced at the time on her phone, "even if it's almost midnight on a Tuesday. Who's even open?"

"Larry's usually still open on nights like this. Though we might give the poor man a heart attack looking like this," Rory joked, though a bit worried - he'd treated the man as a nurse, so he knew how fragile he could be.

"Not unless he's been up to something that he wouldn't want either a policewoman or an ancient warrior to know about," she joked, earning a light laugh from Rory.

"Keeping the peace from 50 BC to 2010 AD, Williams and Pond," Rory joked.

"Justice through the millennia," Amy agreed, laughing.

The moon was just a thin curve in the sky, obscured by a thin cloud cover. There were only gentle sounds of the wind groaning as they walked through the main street of the town; most people's lights were already out.

There was an atmosphere of peace about the place that Rory had never felt anywhere else. It felt like the rest of the world was racing against time, and this town was the tortoise that would rather lag behind and smell the roses.

Really, Rory would be totally content to spend the rest of his life here. He wanted to travel a bit, first, but after the initial experience of the rest of the world, this seemed like the perfect place to build a life and watch the years go by. Amy, of course, always said she was getting out of here first chance she got; and she probably would have already, if not for the imaginary friend that came to life.

"I really love you," Rory said matter-of-factly. There was a pregnant pause.

"You're so sweet," Amy said gently, and pulled herself a bit closer.

Rory sighed internally. He supposed that beggars couldn't be choosers: he was finally dating the girl he'd been in love with since he was six; if she couldn't say three little words, who was he to complain? Amy had never been too much of a talker, anyway - she was a doer. She took the axiom 'actions are louder than words' much more seriously than the average person.

"Thanks. Erm, Amy?" Rory said, his heart beating faster. They were almost to the shop, it was just around the corner.

"Yeah?" she asked, frowning. Rory swallowed, and began delivering the little speech he'd cooked up for the occasion. They walked slowly, Amy's eyes on his and his eyes looking resolutely ahead.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me. And. If I could make your life any better by being in it, if you'd let me, then I'd be honored if you would let me-"

Then he stopped. He looked at the window of the sandwich shop, a sizable affair that usually had very few posters or messages on it; the one that was supposed to have a sign saying 'Amy will you marry me?' taking up the whole window. He'd given the sign to Larry today, asked for it to be put up.

"Rory?" Amy asked, getting in front of him, concern making her eyes squint.

Rory just stayed silent. He just stared at the window, giving it a sarcastic glare. Because the sign he'd made was a tarp-like material, to which he had applied the immortal words in paint, which had looked great during the daytime. However, he had failed to consider that at nighttime, the only light would probably be from inside the shop, and the sign was too thick for the light to shine through, making the grand result essentially a big black cover on the window.

"-Buy you a sandwich. Any sandwich you want," Rory said, quickly slinging his arm around her and pulling her inside.

"Congratulations!" Larry said happily from where he stood behind the counter, crow's feet growing at the corners of his eyes.

"Um, thanks?" Amy said in confusion, but laughed lightly. Larry's smile faltered as he opened his mouth to speak.

"On our sandwich, clearly," Rory supplied quickly. "Best sandwiches in town."

Well, only a fool would argue a compliment, so Larry just smiled again and took their orders, only giving a short odd look to their attire.

Amy picked a small table off to the side, out of Larry's earshot as the man cleaned the counter. They sat, Rory a bit clumsily due to his slightly bulky outfit.

"Rory, you know you don't have to say stuff like that?" Amy said, after they were both about halfway through eating.

"You don't like it?" Rory asked a bit sulkily.

"No, it's just-" Amy cut herself off, then started again. "You don't have to worry, you know. About this. I'm happy with you."

Rory just nodded, suddenly too tired for this conversation. "For how long?" he asked quietly.

It was an honest question that Rory thought about often - for how long was she going to tolerate him? Amy was a mad flame, a crazy unstoppable force, and Rory was certain she'd have bored of him by now. She always seemed to find the most interesting boys in town to date - an Asian exchange student, a bloke who really liked potholing, another boy who was profanely good at any sport he tried; Jeff too, who was the school brainbox. Rory never trusted him. And, naturally the Doctor, who was better at being skinny than Rory and not to mention a great deal better at - existing, probably. The first time Rory saw him, he'd been caught up in the Doctor's whirlwind too.

He could still remember that day with Mels, when she'd so callously exposed him. All those years of pretending to follow Amy around just because they were friends, and bloody Mels had to go and just ruin it all in one fell swoop. Yet he had to admit it was probably better that way, since he doubted he would have ever had the courage to make a move on his own.

Running out into Amy's backyard, mortified and looking for somewhere to hide, he also remembered praying for death. Of course, things had gone better than he anticipated, and Amy had followed and they had a very short, halting, and incredibly awkward conversation.

"So, um," Amy had said. "You like me."

"Yeah," Rory said, and looked down, swinging his arms a bit.

"You like me a lot."

"Yeah, I'd say so, yep."

"Wow. Erm. …You wanna go out, then?"

"…Yes."

And ever since they'd been like this. Rory hoping this wasn't going to be the day she got bored, and Amy - well, who knew what Amy was ever thinking about. Probably just the Doctor. Everyone in the town had basically one reaction: 'it's about time'. Amy and Rory's reputations were closely intertwined, so most people assumed that it was always going to happen, even though Rory felt it was a miracle. Rory''s dad was the only person that had been well and truly shocked, and even now he didn't seem to be very optimistic.

Amy pursed her lips, the red lipstick still bright even in the somewhat dimly lit shop. "Rory, even if I don't want this some day way in the future, I'll always be your friend. Your best friend." Her eyes were sincere, her voice was certain. Amy was an all-or-nothing kind of person - and it seemed she was in an 'all' kind of mood. "And that day won't come any sooner, if ever, if you don't kiss up to me."

Rory was momentarily speechless.

There were so many things running through his mind; to many emotions contending for dominance.

I'm not kissing up, it's how I feel!

I don't want to be friends, not when I've had a taste of this.

I've failed three times trying to propose to you, it's like the universe is trying to send a message. Very rudely.

Oh God, I just really love you.

In the end he went with the last one and kissed her for real (knocking off his helmet in the process, giving old Larry a jolt), which neither of them objected to.