Author: Adrian Tullberg PM
Recent events have made a redhead cross ...Rated: Fiction K - English - Humor - 11th Doctor & Amelia P./Amy - Words: 399 - Reviews: 8 - Favs: 10 - Follows: 2 - Published: 01-18-11 - Status: Complete - id: 6664509
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Someone got their head slapped when Amy, love of his life, got in one of her moods.
The type of mood that took all the worst stereotypes of both redheads and the Scots and distilled them into a leggy, gorgeous avatar of fury and violence. So Rory kept right at the back of the TARDIS console room while Amy raved.
"Honestly! You thought that this sort of thing would be looked into? Compensated in the calculations? Someone looked up, and said, 'hey, that weren't there last time?'"
The Doctor walked up the stairwell from the lower mechanisms towards the aggravated redhead. "Okay, Pond, You have successfully distracted me from vital and important adjustments to my timeship's vital and important systems." He leaned against the side of the console, crossing his arms. "I am all ears."
Amy held up the newspaper, or to be precise, brandished it like a face-seeking crowbar underneath the Doctor's nose. "They've screwed up the stars."
The Doctor perked up. "All the stars? That must be a fearsome act of stellar engineering, clearly a massive conspiracy ..."
Rory risked his safety by speaking up. "She meant the reading of the star signs."
Amy's fingers flexed. "My horoscope, for years, has been entirely screwed up, completely innaccurate. Once, I was a proud Sagittarius, but because of the whole planet just dancing around in space, I'm now a Scorpio. A bloody crab."
The Doctor looked at Rory, hoping for a slightly less emotive explantion.
"There's an article on how the Earth has been kind of wobbling on it's axis for the last few thousand years ... Moon's gravitational pull or something ... causing the Sun not to be aligned properly with each constellation, meaning not only each star sign an their predictions are wrong, but they've had to bung a whole new star sign in as well."
"Oh." The Doctor glanced at the article in Amy's clutched fist. "Gravitational Precession?"
Rory shrugged. Amy's Aunt had been dead keen on her horoscope, which put him and his parents right off.
"Not part of a gargantuan gambit by an immensely powerful alien empire then?"
"Not as far as I can tell."
"So this is more of a case of ... Wibbley wobbley, Earthy-Wurthy?"
The Doctor learned when Amy was in one of her moods, someone got their head slapped. Hard.