A/N: Poor, poor Rory. I'm so mean to him. Oh, and does anyone even like basketball in the UK? Apparently some people still play it, but it didn't look like anyone really cared. Enjoy, folks.

She's got a love like woe (Woe oh oh oh)
Girl's got a love like woe (Woe oh oh oh)
(Ba da da)
I kinda feel like it don't make sense
Because you're bringing me in
And now you're kicking me out again

Love so strong (Woe oh oh oh)
Then you moved on (Woe oh oh oh)
Now I'm hung up in suspense
Because you're bringing me in
And then you're kicking me out again

This time, Rory was pretty sure nothing actually could go wrong.

See, he would say that nothing could go wrong because this was the simplest plan ever, but he'd thought as much in the past. And that hadn't worked out so smoothly.

"When will she be here?" Rory's father asked, glancing at his watch from where he sat.

"Soon. Aren't you supposed to be somewhere?"

"Don't rush me, don't rush me. I'm going, in my own time."

Rory tried not to grind his teeth at his father's slow tone. His dad was supposed to be at Bowling Night, so Rory would have the house to himself for a few hours. But he was running late, and Rory didn't want to have this evening spoiled before it got started.

Best get busy elsewhere, then; Rory turned and walked out. He checked the refrigerator to make sure he had everything ready to go in there. Onions, wine, fresh thyme, beef broth, Swiss cheese. French onion soup was one of Amy's favorite dishes (it could be pretty healthy if you made it right), so Rory was inviting her over so he could make her dinner. Amy liked cooking, but didn't get around to doing it often. While Rory was no chef, he was good at following instructions, and he preferred home-cooked food.

Finally, finally, Rory could hear the sound of his dad getting up to leave.

"Don't have too much fun," Rory's father said accusingly. The man was peeking into the kitchen, a look on his face that Rory could identify as playful suspicion.

"Promise," Rory answered after a moment. His smile was genuine.

In the few minutes Rory had the house to himself, he wandered from room to room, the old nervousness beginning to rise again. The thing was, he honestly did not know if Amy would say yes or not. She was an enigma. It wasn't the old 'women are complicated' thing, Rory didn't believe in that anyway. It had nothing to do with her gender, she just refused to be defined or pinned down. Except being Scottish; she claimed that label with pride.

Rory thought back to the night at the fair, when they had rushed off to the hospital to meet Marie. The doctors there were good, they got the situation under control and decided to do a C-section. The baby boy would be alright, he was just undersized since he was so early. Amy had rubbed Marie's shoulder while Brad held his son for the first time, tears in his eyes.

"Isn't this every girl's dream?" Marie had asked. She was beside herself with joy.

"Not every girl's dream," Amy had answered.

It was certainly Rory's dream.

The doorbell rang, and Rory jogged to the door.

"Hey!" Amy said loudly, and hugged Rory tightly. Amy had been spending a lot of time with Marie, understandably, and so they hadn't been seeing each other as much.

"Hey." Rory gladly wrapped his arms around her, and they swayed a moment before Amy pulled away.

"So, I was promised food. What's the special today, waiter?"

"French onion soup ma'am, if you'd care to step this way," Rory answered with a grin, his poshest accent, and a grand gesture.

Amy was good at cooking when she didn't get impatient and nuke the food. She started chopping the onions while Rory opened up the wine.

"I'm going to be a bit sad if there's no leftover wine," Amy said. She had been rather chomping at the bit for alcohol ever since Marie had delivered, and hadn't had the chance to get to a pub yet, though she didn't like to get seriously drunk. At least not often, anyway. Rory liked wine but preferred not to be drunk at all.

"There should be plenty leftover."

"Good. Are we watching a movie tonight?"

"I was thinking we could just, you know, enjoy each other's company," Rory answered while he got out the rest of the ingredients. He suddenly blushed. "Not... I didn't.."

"Don't worry, stupid, I know you're no playboy," Amy answered with a devilish half-grin.

It didn't take too long to get the soup cooking, and while they waited for it to be done, they got out some M&Ms and took turns trying to toss one into each other's mouths while they lounged on the sofa. So far they hadn't got one in once.

"No, wait, you just stay still and keep your mouth open," Amy said, laughing. Rory acquiesced and leaned his head back, opening his mouth wide.

"It's on now! From downtown, Pond shoots-" she threw the M&M in a perfect imitation of a free-throw- "she scores! Nothing but net!"

The candy went in Rory's mouth perfectly, and just then the timer for the soup went off.

"She made it! She singlehandedly won the team the championship!" Amy yelled enthusiastically, while Rory cheered and clapped.

Rory laughed as he swallowed the sweet and then asked permission with his eyes before kissing her lightly on the nose.

It didn't take long to grate some cheese for garnish and lay out the table. Rory had bought a candle, and it flickered between them even though the lights were still on.

They chatted about jobs and current events before the conversation turned back to Marie and Brad. They were doing fine, Amy assured him.

"Isn't it great," Rory said as he used some bread to soak up a bit of broth.

"What's great?"

"You know. Kids. A family." Rory kept his eyes down.

"Nah. I never want to have kids." Amy kept her eyes down as well.

Rory felt a cold stab in his stomach. The rest of the meal was eaten quickly in silence.

While they were washing up, Rory had come alongside Amy where she stood rinsing off the bowls.

"I wanted to show you something. Is that okay?" he asked quietly. Amy turned, her hazel eyes turned dark in the somewhat low light. The sun had gone down hours ago, and the lightbulbs in the kitchen were almost burnt out.

"Of course it is, idiot." She smiled, and kissed his cheek. Rory felt warmth blossom there. He couldn't stop the stupid grin.

Once the dishes were all put away, he led her outside, his hands over her eyes.

"Don't peek!" he warned, smiling.

"You can't stop me," Amy said raising her eyebrows challengingly.

They made their way to the center of the backyard, where Rory had her stay.

"Now, you can't open your eyes yet. I have to run inside and get something first. Don't peek!" Rory yelled the last sentence as he turned and made good on his word, sprinting inside. He scurried into his room, and grabbed a torch, and a bouquet. It was a brightly colored arrangement, perfect for Amy. He'd put the ring around one of the roses earlier.

As he ran back outside, doing his best not to harm the flowers, all his racing thoughts aligned.

This is it. This is really happening. Now.

Amy was still standing in the spot he'd placed her, eyes closed and arms crossed, all her weight on one leg. When she heard him coming she moved her hands to her hips.

"What took so long? Why am I standing here?" she yelled curiously. Rory wasn't sure how she could yell without sounding mean.

"Okay," Rory said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Now, look - this way - and... open your eyes!"

His heart was pounding in his throat as he turned on the torch and pointed it at the side of the house. He'd re-purposed the sign from his third attempt at the sandwich shop and hung it on the house.

Amy went rigid as she looked at the sign, the beam of light somewhat unsteady in Rory's hand. Rory swallowed despite the lack of response and went down to one knee, holding out the bouquet.

"Amy," he began, a bit shaky. "You are the love of my life. You have been since the moment I met you. I know I'm not much. I know I'm not special or exciting or brilliant and I can't take you to other planets. But I can promise that I will always be here. I would be honoured if you would be my wife."

It was short, simple, no shenanigans. Like Rory. He looked up at her, trying not to appear pathetic or imploring. Just patient.

Amy's face was blank with shock.

"Rory, I-"

She placed her hand over her mouth, shaking her head.

She took one step backwards, the another. Then she ran away. Ran straight into the dark, without looking back.

Rory sat back on the grass, and let the flowers fall limply to the ground.

He should have known this would happen. Of course Amy wouldn't marry him, of all people!

She wouldn't marry anyone, probably.

Rory could remember one time when they were kids and Amy had wanted to do a make-believe wedding. She'd made Rory wear the dress, because she never wanted to be a bride. Those exact words. But he'd hoped - that maybe she'd change her mind for him?

Rory started to search for the ring that he'd placed on the centre rose - who knew what he'd do with it now? But he couldn't find it. Groaning in annoyance, he turned on the torch and began to inspect the bouquet. The ring was nowhere to be seen. He halfheartedly dragged the beam over the ground around him, but there was still no telltale glimmer of gold or the twinkle of a diamond.

But in the end, what did it matter?

Amy said no.