The pretty one.
Rory's never heard that about himself before. Despite the swelling of pride in his throat, he can only awkwardly pat the coral-colored, bubble wall.
"Good... good spaceship," Rory breathes out, gazing around as the TARDIS chimes and whirs.
It sounds happy.
He would call himself bonkers if he hadn't seen the Doctor's TARDIS as a fully grown woman, parading around in a tattered, blue-grey hoopskirt.
"I think… you're very pretty, as well," Rory announces, his eyes staring up at the identical bubble-coral. He listens to a series of enthusiastic, low whirs, the overhead lights winking off and on.
(Oh god, is he flirting?)
Rory's fingers pat the wall once more, as he leans out, humming distractedly and strolling on.
(Amy definitely doesn't need to know about this.)
Doctor Who isn't mine. BECAUSE I CAN. THAT'S WHY THIS EXISTS. Many thanks for reading my garbage and any comments/thoughts appreciated!