The Doctor straightened his bowtie with a mysterious
smirk. “You’ll see.”
Amy leveled a suspicious glare at him, putting one hand on a
hip while she stuck a finger in his direction.
“Don’t you go all mysterious Time Lord-y on me, mister.”
“Doctor,” he interrupted cheekily.
Amy ignored him. “I
asked a simple question, and you’re usually positively busting to brag about whatever you’re showing us. Now spill.”
He mouthed the last two words of her little tantrum, making
a disgruntled face, then flipped a hand at her while he busied himself with the
dials of the Tardis. “Rory, control your wife.”
Rory laughed a little, his smile melting when Amy gave him
the same withering look that she’d been pointing at the Doctor. “Yeah, good one.”
“Just hold your little Scottish horses,” the Doctor said,
pouting at the pair of them. “It’s not
exactly a secret I can keep longer than it’ll take to walk out the doors. Just wait.”
Amy folded her arms and leaned against the console, staring
the Doctor down when he came over to try to get at the controls behind
her. “Could you just--I need to--Amy,
would you--” He got no response for any
of his stuttering requests, and finally walked around her, very close, staring
her down the whole time, then reached around and flipped a switch. The normal sounds of the Tardis faded along
with a telltale thump as they set down on whatever the Doctor had wanted them
to land on. Flashing her a smile, he
gestured to the door. “After you.”
She harrumphed at the sparkle in his eyes and stalked off to
the door, Rory trailing at her heels.
With a flourish, she pushed the door open and promptly stopped dead in
the doorway. “No.”
“Don’t block the exit.
That’s a fire hazard.” The Doctor
waited patiently behind the pair of them, resting his elbows on the railing as
he watched for Amy’s expression, smirking to himself.
She spun around. “That’s
impossible!”
In answer, he gestured around the control room of a
time-traveling blue box that had multiple dimensions inside it, and had
appeared out of nowhere on her front lawn when she was a little girl.
“Point taken, but--but--that’s--” Amy pointed behind her, unable to really look
at it again yet, mouthing the word a few times, much to the amusement of her
observer.
“I’d appreciate it,” said a voice from outside, “if y’all
came out real slow-like.”
“Amy,” Rory said in a low, warning tone. “There’s a big man with a very large gun
pointed at us.... I think we should step
outside or close the door.”
“I’d do the first one,” said Jayne Cobb, smirking at them as
he cocked his shotgun. “That door looks
a might flimsy from where I’m standing.”
He grinned.
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