A/N: Hey, so, I kinda have some cool personal news I wanted to share. One of my best friends in the world, Canucklehead Cowgirl, and I decided to try writing original fiction together under the shares pseudonym C. C. Robbie (because we are dorks). And we just published our first book, "The Last Blaze," and I'm kinda OVER THE MOON about it!

"Doctor, really, what's going on?"

Amy was leaned over the park bench, her hair falling down over her shoulders, her eyes lidded. Somehow, that wasn't enough to get the Doctor's attention away from whatever gadget he was holding and muttering to himself about, and Amy let out a huff of frustration when he saw it before she took a more direct approach.

"Hey!"

Amy grinned as she waved the doohickey in front of the Doctor's face. "What is this thing and why are you using it to inspect a phone booth? It's not even blue."

The Doctor finally managed to get his gadget back—not because he was any good at stealing things back from Amy but because she knew she actually had his attention now, which meant he would explain himself instead of being lost in his head. (He was really so much work, her Raggedy Man.) "We're not inspecting a phone booth," he said. "We're inspecting the air in this area. It's charged with artron energy."

Amy blinked at him. "Which means…"

"Which means that someone was time traveling in this area." The Doctor examined his gadget, shook his head, and then set it down on the park bench in favor of licking his finger and sticking it up in the air instead, like he was testing which way the wind was blowing. "See, Amy, this kind of energy clings to things that travel through time; it powers time machines and attempted time machines too."

Amy smirked when she heard the tone he was using. "You're not impressed, then?"

The Doctor shook his head. "Whoever is time traveling is doing it the quick, cheap, painful way. Their atoms are not going to be happy with them."

Amy nodded and then tipped her head to the side. "Okay, but you said that this energy sticks to anything that time travels, yeah? So wouldn't it be on us as well?"

The Doctor grinned and pointed at Amy. "Got it in one, Pond," he said, sounding honestly delighted that she was following his technobabble. "But don't worry; the TARDIS is the luxury sports car of time travel. And I can filter out the results so I'm not picking up any residual energy from the TARDIS."

"Oh, I don't know. I've seen luxury sports cars," Amy teased.

"Hey, don't knock the TARDIS," the Doctor said as he picked his gadget up again, looked over the readings, and then shook his head. "Looks like whoever was here picked up a passenger and left again."

"What is that—temporal kidnapping or something?" Amy asked, perking up now that she could sense a little more adventure than whatever techno-sleuthing the Doctor had been doing up until then.

The Doctor narrowed his eyes and looked thoughtful. "Could be," he allowed finally, then suddenly switched back into one of his wider grins and gestured widely for Amy to come with him. "Come along, Pond. The TARDIS can track the artron signature—and we can look into why someone would be interested in this little town in the middle of nowhere for your 'temporal kidnapping' case."

Amy smiled as she followed the Doctor back to the TARDIS. This was more like it. Instead of wandering around and listening to the Doctor talk to herself, she was getting more adventure.

It didn't take long for the TARDIS to lock onto the signature that the Doctor had been tracing, and Amy grinned, her heart pounding in her ears over the sound of the TARDIS' engines. She hadn't been traveling with the Doctor for a long enough time to get used to that sound, and it still sounded like the dreams she used to have about the Doctor coming back to whisk her away from her boring old life. But being inside the little blue box was louder, more exciting, and more, well, everything compared to a dream.

The Doctor looked up and caught her manic grin to return it with one of her own, and Amy let out a delighted laugh. The Doctor was hers in a way that she'd never been able to explain to any of the therapists she'd had growing up. It was nice to be proven right after all this time.

Finally, the TARDIS dinged to let them know it had landed, and Amy raced the Doctor to the door, pausing only to toss her hair over her shoulder. "Should I be worried that we're going after potential kidnappers in nothing but my nightie?"

"They should be worried about you," the Doctor shot back, shadow boxing as if he was fighting an opponent.

Amy grinned, tipped her chin up, and then put on a passible snooty expression. "That's right," she said, spinning on her heel to throw open the door.

She somehow wasn't surprised to find that there was a bright, loud bar on the other side of the TARDIS doors. But even though they were on a serious mission, Amy couldn't help but stop and stare at some of the different aliens she saw walking around. They couldn't have been on Earth anymore, and they definitely weren't in Amy's time, considering the level of technology she saw all around her.

And then, she saw one of the windows that had a view of stars that she'd never seen before, and she rushed that way, temporarily abandoning what she was supposed to be doing so she could look out at them.

She was never going to get tired of this. Of being in space.

Finally, she tore her gaze away from the window back to the Doctor, who was walking through the crowd with his gadget. He stopped at the bar, and Amy grinned before she flounced over. "Buy a girl a drink?"

The Doctor glanced up at her for a moment. "Do you want to try something here? The energy signature is pretty strong here; they must have stayed here for a while. Maybe we can talk to people while we try something…" he said. "They've got a Venutian whiskey I used to like when I was a different me. I wonder if my mouth agrees…"

Amy smiled to herself, thinking of when she'd first met the Doctor and watched him spit out pretty much every food or drink she'd tried to give him. "You really don't change, do you?"

"Of course I do. All the time. Change is good. Staying still is boring," the Doctor said as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

Amy smirked but kept her commentary to herself—especially when she knew she was about to be proven right anyway and she could gloat about it as soon as it happened. And so, sure enough, when the Doctor ordered both drinks and then immediately spit his out, she just started to laugh. She didn't even have to say anything; the Doctor's spluttering was enough.

The Doctor shook his head and rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. "How did I ever like this stuff before? Pure poison," he scoffed—and Amy laughed harder.

She watched the Doctor flash his psychic paper at the barkeep and then launch into an explanation of how he was investigating a kidnapping and whatnot, though Amy though his method of asking if the guy had seen "anything suspicious" was ridiculous, considering the variety of aliens and assorted rough-housers in the place. Amy didn't have to know where or when they were to know this wasn't a top-dollar bar.

Finally, when Amy was tired of watching the Doctor flounder so much, she laughed and leaned over to catch the barkeep's attention. "Maybe you can help us," she said. "They'd have come out of nowhere and one of them probably did what I did—looked around the whole place like it was new. Ringing any bells?"

Finally, the guy started to smile and nod. "Yeah. There was a couple that came through like that, rented one of our rooms."

Amy fluttered her eyelashes. "Can you tell us which one?"

The guy nodded, and a few minutes later, Amy was headed up the stairs with her arm laced through the Doctor's, laughing the whole time.

"Now, that is how you run an interrogation," she said.