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CHARACTERS: Amy & Rory
LOCATION: Their room.
WARNINGS: None come to mind.
SUMMARY: Pond Life in Spaaaace.

Your move, hot stuff.

[Amy smirks as she watches Rory's face instead of whatever move he's making on the checkerboard. Amy's red, she's always red, and red always wins. At first she thought he might be letting her win out of love or fear, which she loves him for. But the more games they play, the more she's convinced that he's just bad at it.]

Sooo this is what married life in space is like. Have to say, I was expecting a lot more probing.

[By accident or design, she says it just when he's making his move.]

But hey, at least there aren't bunk beds.

[Just one really small one. She's trying really hard to keep looking on the bright side. It'll probably last until she runs out of pilfered chocolates.]

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( don't get him wrong. he loves boring and domestic. ever since he was yanked along travelling, he's almost liked it even more than before: it's nice, to get ten minute stretches where rory doesn't feel like he's probably about to die.

but even so, this is a little boring.

he almost drops the piece when she says 'probing.' is that a risk? is that something he needs to look out for? he shoots her a look, all you'd better not be serious, and what's this mood then. )

I think I'd take bunk beds if it meant we were back on the TARDIS. ( he ventures, very carefully making his move. )

[Amy sighs, and with that she doesn't even have to say, me too. She'd be the first one through the doors of that blue box. She wraps her arms around those legs of hers, chin resting on her knees.]

I wouldn't do that if I were you.

[And that right there is how she's won so many games - she's basically making the moves for both of them.]

It's gotta be around here somewhere, wouldn't you think? Maybe one of those areas of the ship that they tell people not to go.

[Which, coincidentally, makes her want to go right there.]

( he hesitates, then takes her advice, making a slightly different move instead. he doesn't even think about it, or realise he's obeying his opponent's instructions. he's only half paying attention to the game.

he does frown slightly at her though. ) Probably because it's really dangerous. ( subtext: so let's not get any ideas… )

Edited 2013-09-03 03:17 (UTC)

[Too late.]

Or because they're hiding something. Or maybe they're just not sure.

[Amy makes her next move, barely glancing at the board. She's watching his face, the little wrinkle that appears on his forehead. She almost reaches her finger out to poke it - it's going to get stuck that way one of these days.]

We could just pop down one of the hallways, take a little peek. What's the worst that could happen?

[Besides death. And Rory's made that into an art form.]

Death, maiming, space viruses, alien sick… ( instead of making his next move, he turns a piece over and over in his fingers. he feels like he's already lost—and he's not thinking of the game. )

So nothing we haven't faced before.

[Amy jumps her red checker all the way across the board. So it wasn't her turn, there's like a five second rule for moves or something. She knows because she just made it up.]

What if I could find a sword?

Then someone would probably end up stabbed and it'd probably be me. Did you just take two turns in a row? ( mildly indignant! )

Hey, how about having a little bit of faith.

[She's not about to let someone stab him unless it's-

Oh. She sees his point now.]

And you forfeited.

( he raises an eyebrow at her, because faith and belief that they're not about to die has never been one of his strong points and they both know it. then he frowns. )

I did not forfeit.

You took your piece off the board. That counts as a forfeit.

[On some planet, that is definitely a forfeit.]

I took it off to move it.

So why didn't you move it instead of-

[She gestures to the piece in his hand.]

Doing whatever it is you're doing with it.

( he kind of blinks at his hand. he'd. almost forgotten about it.

not that he'll admit that! )

I was thinking. About my strategy.

It's bloody checkers, no one uses strategy!

[She looks down at the board, at her piece. And thinks about strategy.]

I'll take my move back if you agree to explore one of the corridors with me.

( he gives her a somewhat disgruntled look— i know what you're up to, and, stubbornly, puts the piece down on the board, amy's two moves in a row and all. there's definitely a sort of sulky edge to his expression. )

Your turn.

[A flaw in her otherwise perfect plan. Amy looks down at the board, back up at his face. There's a second where she thinks about just getting up and going right now...more like five seconds.

But she eventually jumps another checker.]

You'd better hope I don't find a sword.

[Now there are two pouting Ponds.]

( he looks up at her sharply. passive he may be, but he's never been good at keeping his mouth shut. ) Haven't we had enough of that for a while?

No!

[And then she reconsiders her own words, and everything they've been through.]

I dunno, maybe. I just don't want to be, you know.

[Amy glances off, giving a roll of her eyes.]

Your boring ball and chain.

You're not. ( still a bit sharply, but this time out of emphasis instead of annoyance masked as fear. but — it's ridiculous, isn't it? the idea of amy being anything like that.

he frowns, why would you even say that, and then looks away, his expression more serious. he presses his hands together, laces his fingers. ) Just, you know, talking about swords, it's only…

We just did that. I was hoping I could… not… for a while. ( he doesn't like to talk about roman stuff. think about it. he's denied remembering it at all when asked. obviously it's a lie, and he knows the doctor and amy know it is… but he likes to get away with pretending it isn't when he can. )

Yeah, no, we don't have to do that.

[She shakes her head quickly. Besides, there's not a spare roman uniform around anywhere. She's looked.]

You could go to work in the medbay every day and we could do the almost normal thing.

[Which could be new and exciting in its own right, she thins. Amy's eyes go bright right before she snaps her fingers and points at him.]

I could join the shuttle crew.

( he relaxes and even feels a little bit… well, touched, that she doesn't argue it. of course, he then immediately worries that he'll end up holding her back. it's not like he minds adventure, just…

she snaps her fingers, and he blinks in surprise. ) The shuttle crew?

There's a few small craft on board. They train volunteers to learn how to fly them.

[And what has two thumbs and could volunteer? This girl.]

I'm betting some of the people hadn't even been in space before.

( he considers this, his expression thoughtful. then he narrows his eyes at her in an expression of wait a second: )

You can't even drive a car.

I could learn!

[Amy gives him her best indignant look.]

It's not like they'd just let me get in one and go zooming off around the nearest solar system.

[As cool as that would be.]

It's either that or agriculture, and I'm really not feeling the whole farm girl thing.

( he tries not to smile, but doesn't quite manage it. he's teasing, anyway.

and tries to imagine amy as a farmer. ) So those are your choices? Pilot or farmer? … You could do the medical thing.

[Amy considers that, nose wrinkling.]

Yeah, but I'm thinking the medical thing might involve needles.

It has been known to. ( a little dryly, since half of his job is needles at the hospital. )

[Amy nods at the confirmation, reaching across to pat his arm.]

I'm going to leave the needle stuff to you. You're more the nurturing type anyway.

[What with being a nurse and all.]

When you say it like that it sounds sort of uncool. ( he's not complaining, though, and that's obvious from his expression and voice. he is the nurturing type. he takes pride in it. he puts his hand over hers almost automatically. )

No, I think it's very cool.

[And she means it, wanting him to feel proud of it. Amy turns her hand over to take his, warm and gentle and dependable. He was made for what he does.]

This ship is full of grouches and sourpusses. I don't know how I made it a month without you.

( he smiles, and ducks his head, a little bit embarrassed. he's always been insecure — more than slightly at times. and that's without remembering the cracked timeline where she'd never even said she loved him. every bit of praise from amy makes him feel important and cool, and surprises him even if he probably shouldn't be. )

I'm sorry it took so long.

Well, it was sorta my turn, wasn't it?

[Two thousand years - a month. Yeah, that's just about equal. Amy reaches out, catching his chin and lifting it gently.]

Just don't do it again.

( it's not about turns, he'd argue, except he doesn't want to argue the point. he relaxes into her touch, just slightly, and says wryly, ) There's much too much of it already.

Yeah. Us included.

[Which gives her a very weird feeling. Which is saying something.]

Us especially. ( and he sounds a little bitter, but what can you do? lately he's been feeling all sorts of bitter. it's not the doctor's fault—just. )

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