[OOC] Secret Santa 2010

[captainkink]

Dear Santa,

Thanks so much for doing this ♥ I am super excited! I'm sure you'll do fabulously!! Oh, and if you have any questions, ask away! I am at your beck and call, love.

Love,
Timmy

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

The last night she did it was a Sunday. She was sixteen. She took her suitcase outside, of all the things that were the Doctor, and waited. It was a tiny suitcase now, a child's toy. She sat beside it, instead of on top of it, and she waited. She was determined. He would know she was waiting, he would hear it somehow, in the stars. He would come back and take her to see all the beautiful things she had missed out on living in this timeless, dead village. He was going to come back, she told herself. Before now she just hadn't believed hard enough.

He didn't come back. Rory found her sleeping outside, resting her face on her knees. He woke her up, took her indoors, made her some tea. She left the suitcase. She didn't want to see it. He made her beans on toast, told her to call him when she was feeling better, and left her alone. When she had traipsed upstairs to her room, to sleep in a proper bed, ultimately disappointed by her fantasy, she had found the suitcase where she had always kept it, in her closet, where he'd carefully placed it. He hadn't wanted her to be without it. He knew how important it was to her.

He was usually the one who called. When she called him, she found she knew the number off by heart anyway. When he answered the phone, when he said her name, she asked him to call her Amy. Then she asked him on a date.

She made herself Amy, who believed in the real world - boys, and dating, and not living with your head off in the clouds. Amy, who was loud and always tried to get what she wanted. She got used to living in the real world, which was a disappointing place. She dated Rory, because he had accepted her for what she was - whether she wanted to take Spanish classes so she could flirt with foreign boys, or whether she wanted to dress up in naughty outfits for money, he always accepted her. She wasn't serious about him, because Amy wasn't serious about anything yet. She'd believed in something with all of her heart, and she had been disappointed. She had wanted time to be frivolous and unconcerned and young. She'd just gotten used to being bolshy, brash Amy Pond, who told the world exactly what she thought of it. She had gotten used to tucking Amelia Pond, the girl who'd stared at stars and hoped, into a dusty cupboard in the corner of her heart.

Then the Raggedy Doctor came back, was real and solid and irritatingly sure that he'd never left her in the first place. He came back, showed her something spectacular, and he left. And Rory had been there, again. An unassuming man, in an unassuming job, who unassumingly waited for her to turn back and look at him.

When he asked her to marry him, she remembered her tablecloth dress, her aunt's too big shoes. His scraggly Raggedy Doctor tie that they'd pretended was also a groom's marriage garb, and the way he'd caught her elbow when she'd stumbled in the heels she wasn't used to wearing yet. And a little suitcase he'd put back in her closet, understanding that it was part of her.

She said yes. And on the night before her wedding, the Doctor finally came back to take her away. Amelia sat up inside her and smiled, and he took her into the stars, to the life she was always meant to have lived.

[(Anonymous)]

The path had been terrible and beautiful. There were parts she regretted, parts she could never forget, though she'd managed to forget them anyway. She'd flitted through every emotion, remembered losing Rory, finding him again. Her path had been stunted and spotted, like the Doctor's return trips back and forth into her life. Rory's had been different. When the Doctor came back, when they remembered the Doctor, Rory was still solid and real and human but she could see the centuries she had stood outside her box and waited for her weighting his eyes.

She was a married woman. She slow danced with Rory, and she looked at the Doctor, who looked back at her. The smile on his face was genuinely happy, or achingly lonely. She understood it all. He wasn't some flight of fancy, some imaginary friend. He wasn't someone who was designed to take all her troubles away, or someone who was meant to be the love of her life. He wasn't her infant fantasies, or her adult ones. When she'd kissed him, when he'd pushed her away, it wasn't just because they were different species, or because he didn't feel that way. She felt Rory's hand tighten on her back, and when he looked down at her, he was smiling.

When he'd pushed her away, the Doctor was being kind to her. And now it was her wedding. She gave the Doctor a wink, and thought she ought to spend some time looking at her groom. She looked into his eyes for the rest of the dance, remembering the first time they had ever danced like this, the tablecloth dress and the silly tie she had never seen the Doctor wear again. When she looked back and he was gone, they both looked at the place he had left.

"Do you want to go?" he asked her, wrapping his arm about her shoulder. She looked at him. In this room were their families, whirling around in a constant dance of fancy clothes, of frank talking and small-town life. Their friends, their small world. This village was timeless. It would last forever and stay the same.

They could always come back to this moment. She looked up at him, and smiled.

"Do you really want to stay?"

[(Anonymous)]

Santa loev you. ♥ I am not sure I'll get more stuff done than this!! NONETHELESS have a great holiday period.

[borncaptain.livejournal.com]

omg that. that was utterly gorgeous and wonderful and ahh ♥♥♥♥ I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU. YOU ARE THE BEST SANTA BABY ♥♥♥♥