A/N: So sorry for the late update. To make up for it I'll post to chapters today, and post the final chapter on Monday. This one went so very differently than I planned, but ultimately so much better. Now I know that there's apparently no Zipper rides in the UK, but pretend that there is for this story. Poor, poor Rory. And poor Piercing Peter.

'Cause I got some intuition
Or maybe I'm superstitious
But I think you're a pretty sweet pill that I'm swallowing down
To counter this addiction
You got me on a mission
Tell me darling can I get a break, some how
Could I say no?

To be honest, Rory wasn't letting his hopes get up too high this time.

The current plan was easy enough - they would go on the Ferris wheel, and when their cart was at the very top, and Rory could ask her right there to be his wife.

Of course, people had insisted on pointing out that all the other times, Rory could have asked anyway. He could have just asked her on the beach, even though he didn't have the ring. He could have gone ahead when Amy wouldn't drink the champagne, he could have simply popped the question at the sandwich shop. Why didn't you just propose anyway? They asked. But they didn't get it. Amy wasn't like that. Sure, she'd probably be okay with it, but she deserved so much better. A lifetime of half-efforts on her behalf, of no one putting forth the time to make something truly special for her. And Rory would be damned before he let that happen to her; he refused to start this journey with her flippantly, as if it didn't mean to world to him.

Today was Fair Day in Leadworth, and there were all sorts of rides dotting the open green field, and pennants were flowing on strings in the light breeze.

Amy was dressed in her staple outfit of a miniskirt and leggings. Not just that, obviously. Rory was dressed in a regular plaid jacket. He'd debated adding a bow-tie.

"Where do you want to go first?" Rory asked, their joined hands swinging between them.

"Mmm… Ferris Wheel? Start slow and work upwards to the exciting rides," Amy said, somehow sounding regal.

"Um, how about the other way round? We go on the fast rides and then go on the wheel to wind down with some ice cream." Rory rather prided himself on the smooth tone of voice he used. He may or may not have practiced it a bit.

Amy giggled, a smile breaking through her slightly bored expression like sun through the clouds. "Sure thing, centurion." She'd taken to calling him that from time to time. Romans were her favorite subject in history, and Rory had shamelessly exploited that fact.

They started on some classic rides, scramblers and spinners and the like. They took a break for dinner at a little hamburger stand, and seated themselves on some nearby benches.

"Do you think I'd be good at - writing?" Amy asked, her tone very explicitly nonchalant. She was picking the pickles out of her burger with a disdainful expression.

"Um, I don't see why not," Rory answered after swallowing a bite. Bit off the wall, that was. "Your essays were always better than mine, at least."

That got a laugh out of Amy. Amy sometimes had points taken off for getting off subject or being too informal, but Rory usually struggled with making the writing actually interesting. He just wasn't good at expressing things on paper. Affecting the reader by writing something down always perplexed him. Whereas Amy, while wild, was full of rich imagery and metaphors, as well a good deal of dry wit. Rory could be witty when speaking, but he couldn't pin it down on a page.

"Can't deny that. I was just wondering. I mean…" she trailed off, and Rory waited. He had swallowed a whole other bite before she went on. "I mean, it's not like I want to be a kiss-o-gram forever."

That sparked something inside Rory. He hated that job, even though he never was one to tell Amy what to do. Or give an opinion on what she was doing, because with Amy that was nearly the same thing. Even the Doctor had disapproved somewhat. Rory wondered if that had been what tipped the scales.

"Oh," he said stupidly. Amy softly punched his arm.

"I know you hate it. Not that that's why I'm stopping." Amy looked at him expectantly, and so Rory stumbled over the first words that came into his head.

"Not that I don't think you - shouldn't. Like, that you can't enjoy it or whatever. It just - makes you cheap. N-not to me, though, but to them. They shouldn't be able to buy you."

Amy's eyes became deep and unreadable, and times like these Rory never knew what to expect. Not that he usually did.

"Um, about the writing thing - I was thinking, do you think I'd make a good journalist, then?"

Rory blinked in surprise. "Yeah - I think so. You mean be like Lois Lane or something, investigate the dangerous stuff that no one else will?"

"Does that make you Superman?" Amy joked.

"If you want me to be."

Amy got that look again, so Rory stopped talking and focused on doing putting the hamburger in his mouth instead of his foot.

This was the first time that Amy had ever shown an interest in an actual career. Before now she'd become vaguely interested in something for a few days and then forget about it. She'd gotten several offers to be a model, but she'd turned them down. Those girls are too shallow for my taste, she'd said. People that didn't know Amy well probably thought she was shallow too, but Rory knew better. She was too kind, too passionate, and too genuine to be that.

Rory's career had always been clear, even since he was young. His mum had died ages ago, but she'd been an ER worker and Rory had learned so much from her about being not only kind and caring, but brave and calm in a crisis. Although Rory disliked the more intense situations, he always knew he was meant to be a doctor.

"Come on, let's go on the Zipper," Amy said once she'd finished her sandwich, her smile warm and inviting. Rory threw away their trash and took her hand before walking off to get in line.

The Zipper was a ride that Rory could only describe as a demented Ferris Wheel. The track was like a long, rounded rectangle with the carts attached in pairs. The carts were pulled along the wheel on a belt, and in addition the entire wheel would rotate. And finally, the carts flipped around as well, and they were literally just big enough to fit two humans inside, shaped like an apostrophe. A highly demented Ferris Wheel.

They stood in line for a while, looking around and waiting, before there came collective noises of disappointment from the ride next to theirs - the regular, holy Ferris Wheel. Both he and Amy listened as the conductor of that ride made an announcement in a strong Scottish lilt.

"Sorry folks, this ride is closed for today. Technical difficulties!"

Rory just stared blankly ahead. What had he been expecting to happen? Really? As if the universe would decide to be kind to him.

"Well, I guess ice cream on the ground is nearly as good." Amy spoke near his ear, a smile on her face.

"Yeah, suppose it is," Rory said dejectedly, before shaking it off. Sometimes, once this ride was over and they started unloading the carts, you could end up at the top for a minute or two. Why not? He just needed to be more flexible.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just zoned a bit."

In a few minutes the ride ended and the slow process of replacing the people in the carriages began. They slowly worked their way up to the front of the line, and an attendant counted off how many people would fit on the ride, and roped off the rest of the line. Amy and Rory barely made the cut, the only person behind them being a young, nervous-looking girl.

The penultimate cart was unloaded, and the bloke in front of them stepped ahead to get in the cart.

"We're together," Rory explained quickly when they were given expectant looks. He gestured to the girl behind them. "Go on ahead."

She was a short thing, and looked up at him fearfully before looking at the man waiting in the cart. He was covered in piercings and tattoos, had long hair, and was wearing black with the occasional neon color.

"Go with him," Amy said, pushing Rory ahead of her.

"What? Why?" Rory said sharply, his brows coming together in confusion.

"Well, she's not riding with him," Amy said in a condescending voice, gesturing to the quiet girl dressed in a floral shirt and looking far too nervous to be going on a ride like this. "Go, we'll go on every other ride together. I'll meet you after."

Rory withstood one more shove, with everyone looking impatiently at them, before striding forward and sliding in next to the other guy. He heard Amy saying something comforting like 'just us girls'. Room was tight on the tiny bench they occupied - Rory did his best to keep on his side. The attendant wordlessly slammed the mesh door shut and put the pin in place.

"Hey, I'm Peter." A friendly hand was extended. The man's voice was gruff and a bit Cockney but not unpleasant.

"Rory," said the owner of the name. He shook the offered hand and then fell silent.

"I've - never been on a ride this scary before," continued Piercing Peter. Rory looked at him half-incredulously. "Kinda claustrophobic." The ride jerked as they were moved off the ground so Amy and the other girl could get in. "And afraid of heights."

"Not the best suicide attempt I've ever seen, but definitely creative."

Peter laughed nervously. "No, my therapist said I need to face my fears." He fingered the piercing on his eyebrow.

"I'm pretty sure she didn't mean to give yourself a heart atta-"

And they were off. They swung madly, flipped this way and that. This ride made Rory a bit nervous and uncomfortable, but not frightened. Not like Piercing Peter. The man was caterwauling.

I'm going to need hearing aids, Rory thought distantly as his hand tightly gripped the bars in front of his shoulders. Peter screamed wordlessly, he screamed expletives, he screamed for death, he screamed for mercy. The ride went through a full cycle before slowing down.

"You okay?" Rory asked. The lighting wasn't great in here but he could see tears on Peter's face.

"That was amazing. I'm so glad I did that," Peter said in a choked voice. Rory wondered if the man was going into shock.

"Deep breaths."

"I feel so empowered."

They slowly jerked along the wheel until they were released. Piercing Peter was shaky but didn't seem in need of medical attention, so Rory left him alone and stood off to the side to wait for Amy. She was in the next carriage, and she got out first and then helped out the younger girl. Flower Shirt was smiling shyly, and hugged Amy before running off to a pair of people who were likely her parents.

Rory's mind began to work faster - sure, his plan was spoiled. But maybe he could still salvage this and make it special for them? Amy was walking toward him slowly as she pulled out her phone and unlocked it.

"Marie called while I was on the ride, I need to call her back," she said excitedly before putting the phone to her ear. "Hey! What's up? ...Oh really? Let me ask Rory!"

Amy whirled to face Rory, who had been watching her turned back. "What's the difference between fake contractions and real contractions?"

Marie did have Rory's number. She could have called him.

"Um, false contractions get better if you move around, and they don't get closer together. They're normal to get in the second trimester." Marie was very nearly in her third trimester, he couldn't believe she didn't already know this information.

"Okay, Marie, stay calm," Amy said, pacing and gesturing. "Just walk around a bit, they should go away, you're fine."
Amy paced a while longer before turning to look at Rory, her eyes wide. "Rory, she said she thinks her water broke? But it's not water, it's kind of slimy-"

"Mucus plug," Rory supplied quickly. He took Amy's arm and began to guide her to the exit. "Tell her to get to the hospital. And Brad needs to bring a bag of things, in case they end up at the hospital a long while." Rory wasn't specially trained in all this, but he knew the basics.

Amy repeated the instructions to Marie while the two of them broke into a jog once outside the gate.

Guess tonight won't be a great night for a proposal, Rory thought as he hurried to locate his dad's car. Better luck next time - or not.