In Every Sunflower
Author's Notes: So it turns out, I really like Amy/Vincent. And there was one more night when the next scene was suddenly day. Time to explore what could've happened in those hours. Set during "Vincent and the Doctor" with allusions to "Cold Blood". Sequel to "Streaks of Orange and Dark Blue" but can be read separately. Rated M for adult situations. All the usual disclaimers (not mine, just fun, etc), title comes from the Bell X1 song of the same name. Thanks to tardis-mole for beta reading. Please R&R!
"You know, I don't think I've ever seen him sleep," Amy whispered across the room to Vincent, who leaned against the doorframe. She stood up straight beside the bench, having just pulled a blanket over the slumbering Doctor.
Vincent smiled at her before ducking through the doorway, waiting for her to follow him.
It was in the middle of the night. Vincent van Gogh had invited them back to his home to rest before they left the following morning. The Krafayis had been laid to rest and the three of them could breathe a bittersweet sigh of relief. Except now that the Doctor was sleeping, it was just Amy and Vincent.
They stepped from the kitchen into the the next room, surrounded by more of his paintings. It was hard to discern the room's intended purpose - dining room maybe? - when every room served more as storage for his work. She idly rubbed her arms, her coat and scarf in the other room by the fire.
Vincent lit the lantern on the table, casting a low light throughout the room. Her eyes were drawn to the flowers on the canvases. This was better than any show at any gallery, Amy thought as her eyes took in the colors.
He stepped behind her, his arms folded across his chest as he looked at the same painting she did. His arm brushed against her shoulder. "Where will you go?"
She turned her head toward him in response to his question. "Tomorrow?" She looked back at the painting. "I'm not sure. Wherever the Doctor takes us. I guess it doesn't matter where. It always ends up being an adventure."
When Vincent didn't say anything, she turned to him. His head was hung low and he wouldn't look at her.
Amy's brow furrowed as the silence grew longer. "Vincent, what's wrong?"
He shook his head as he pushed past her, exiting through the foyer and into the yard. She glanced back into the room to find the Doctor still sleeping surrounded by paintings. She weighed her choices quickly before she ran after Vincent.
"Vincent!" She hissed into the night, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. She ducked into the yard, underneath paintings on clotheslines - paintings that would have normally caught her attention but she was seeking the upset artist instead. She found him climbing the steps toward his bedroom, hands through his hair. She hurried over to the staircase.
"Go back inside," he waved her off, trying to keep his back toward her. "You're without your coat."
She stomped up the stairs, moving past him and cutting him off. She stood a step above him, her hand against the yellow wall to block that route of escape. "I'll be fine - why won't you tell me what's the matter?"
He shook his head, immediately turning away from her and heading back down the stairs. "You're going to go with the Doctor, far away from here. And you're going to forget me."
"What? No." She followed him down, quick on his heels.
"You can't say that it's not going to happen - it's what always happens. You've both helped me so much and now you're leaving. In time, I'll just be a distant memory until I'm nothing at all."
"Hey... don't say that... We're not going to forget you," Amy stared at him in disbelief. She couldn't say why they would be unable to forget him. It was the unspoken rule of time travel - as River Song aptly put it, no spoilers. But she wanted to reassure him, make him feel better. She had no idea how to do that.
She continued quietly with what she thought was safe. "No one ever could."
Vincent turned to her, his feet on the ground as she stood two steps above him. He looked at her hard for a long moment, his chest heaving as he calmed himself down. Amy grew anxious as she waited for his reaction, shifting her weight between her feet before she took a cautious, deliberate step down toward him, holding her hand out to him.
But instead of taking her hand in his, he grabbed onto her shoulders and pulled her to him.
The kiss was hard, his beard rubbing against her face as she braced herself against him. She caught her balance as his hands moved from her shoulders to her waist. She kissed him back as he moved them, her shoulders hitting the wall behind her. Her hands slid up his chest and her fingers curled against the curve of his neck.
"Vincent..." she breathed, pulling back for a moment to look at him. His eyes roamed her face, her hair as he continued to lean against her. She gulped as she fingered the fabric of his shirt, feeling the heat from his muscles underneath.
Her mind immediately went to the Doctor, the sleeping Doctor. This was probably a bad idea. No, definitely a bad idea. But the Doctor wasn't here to stop her and Vincent pressing against her like that was a welcome distraction from the chill in the air.
"Amy?" Vincent smoothed some of the hair from her face, his voice low.
Oh what the hell. When else was she going to have a chance like this? She grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him back to her, standing on her toes to better kiss him. He leaned into her, pressing her against the wall before she pushed back. She pushed him in the direction of the stairs, toward the exterior door to his bedroom. He took the hint, flashing a grin before taking her hand and leading her up the stairs.
In the dark and out of the cold, Amy was quick to find his embrace. The moon filtering in through the windows as Amy shed her red shirt, pulling it over her head and tossing it aside - next was getting out of those boots. Vincent continued the kiss once she was free of her shirt, peeling back layers of his own clothing. Soon they were freed from most of their clothing, except one troublesome garment that confused the artist. His fingers pawed behind her back with little to no luck.
She smiled, mumbling against his mouth. "Here, let me help." She reached behind her back and unhooked her bra.
They moved across the floor, Amy adjusting to kissing a man with a beard as her feet felt around the darkness. Her hands wandered over his chest and slid over his shoulders. She wrapped her arms around him as he spun her around and pulled her with him as he dropped onto the edge of the bed.
In the dark, he wasn't older than her and she wasn't from the future. The affinity she felt for this man welled in her chest as she climbed into his lap, straddling his hips as they continued their kiss. He pulled her in as he inched from the edge further onto the mattress, leaning back. Her hair spilled forward as he looked up at her, his hands running up her thighs as she sat atop him. Her eyes were wild, hungry. For once she was glad the Doctor was off in the other room and couldn't hear her.
What came out of Vincent's mouth next, however - even Amy couldn't have prepared herself for her reaction.
"You're so beautiful."
She froze as his words sunk in, her jaw starting to tremble. It felt like her heart stopped in her chest, as if the motor wasn't starting. What did he say? Suddenly her mind was far from the act they had barely started, focused purely on the residue of the words long after she had forgotten them.
He pushed himself up, leaning back on his elbows as concern twisted his expression. "I'm sorry, Amy. I'm... whatever I said..."
She stopped listening. Something about his words had unraveled something deep inside her, sadness seeping through her heart and mind. She covered her mouth to try to stifle her emotions - she didn't understand. This man with whom she had formed a connection, this artist she admired more than a century from now - how could his words have this much of an affect? Her bottom lip began to tremble as Vincent wrapped his arms around her. She didn't come to his bedroom tonight to cry like this. She wanted to seize the night, if only for a brief moment while the Doctor slept - and she had come undone.
On some level, Amy Pond was embarrassed. She held closely the pride of knowing how to charm a man. But in so many words, she was a mess and she didn't even know why.
She shook her head, trying to shake off the melancholy that ruined the moment. He sat up properly, her thighs still on either side of him as he pulled her to him, her cheek against his shoulder. She felt one of his hands run down her bare back, sending shivers down her spine.
"I'm the one who's sorry..." she admitted. She sat up straight to look him in the eye. "I don't know what's gotten into me. I'm not usually like this..."
"You don't have to explain yourself, Amy," he said tenderly. He reached up and brushed a lock of her red hair behind her ear. "Whatever happened to you, it hurts in your soul. I can see it. What you've lost... We don't have to do anything you don't want."
"No, I want to. I really really want to," she insisted as she wiped away the wetness on her cheeks. He must've been talking about the sadness he saw in her the other day. Soldiering on. That's what he said. But from what was she soldiering on?
She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, blinking as she regained her composure. "I'm good." Looking at him and seeing the concern in his expression, she added emphatically, "I'm fine."
And then she kissed him as evidence of her fineness. Whatever reservations he had soon melted away as he deepened the kiss. He leaned forward, his arms tightening around her as he lifted them both off his bed. Her legs slid around his waist as he turned, setting her on her back against the mattress. With one foot planted on the floor beside the bed, he anchored his hips between her legs, looming over her. His hands felt rough against her fair skin, sliding over her stomach and along her waist, tracing the moonlight.
She watched him through her tear-stained lashes, her breathing quickening as he dipped his head down, pressing a kiss between her breasts and moved upward. His lips brushed her collarbone and grazed her neck, leaving a trail of kisses along the way.
Amy couldn't remember a time that she was ever treated this delicately. The Doctor was affectionate toward her, but he certainly didn't touch her like this. Maybe he wanted to, but couldn't bring himself to do it. She silently cursed herself for even thinking of another man at a moment like this, when Vincent's weight shifted onto her and she grabbed onto him. His carefulness reverberated the sorrow he saw surround her. But it was also exactly what she needed.
"Amy Pond, I'll never forget you," he breathed into the curve of her neck. "Your song will stay with me..."
She blinked back tears as she grabbed onto either side of his head, crushing his mouth to hers.
His hand slipped between her legs and the contact caused her to moan into his mouth, her body arching against his in response. She broke the kiss for some air as he continued, enticing her to let him in, past the walls she had built up. And he was very good at what he did, her hips squirming in anticipation and frustration and desire until he denied her his hand. If he kept this up, she was going to be panting his name.
She felt him press against her and he slid inside slowly, watching her carefully to gauge how he should move. As she relaxed around him, her long legs hung around his waist as he began to move inside her, drawing her out as she forgot about the Krafayis, about her sadness, even about the Doctor for these rare, wonderful moments they built between them. He snaked an arm around her head, protecting her from the headboard as they moved heatedly in tandem. Every paw and nip she took at him extracted her name from the back of his throat, capturing her senses.
Soon her nails dug into his shoulders. Her body twisted underneath him until he brought her to the brink and she lifted her hips to receive him, white flashing behind her eyelids. She groaned as he continued to his own end, his movements amplified by the sensations coursing through her. He spent himself in her, releasing his final strokes before he folded. He stayed perfectly still as he caught his breath, Amy running a hand up his chest and the other over his shoulders.
In the dark, she stared at the ceiling; the sadness still lingered but a strange calmness had washed over her as her breathing evened and the sweat dried.
Once Vincent had evened his breathing, he pushed himself up, looking at her before he untangled himself from her. She bit her bottom lip as her eyes ran over his face and his beard. He smoothed back some of her hair, running the back of a finger along her cheek bone. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but offered a breathless smile instead. He pressed a kiss to her cheek where his finger had been, then the corner of her mouth before gingerly climbing off her and crossing the room.
He stood beside the table to strike a match. He cupped his hand around the opening of the lantern and lit the wick, shaking the match out. He glanced over his shoulder at Amy, who stretched out against the mattress as she waited for him to rejoin her.
Watching him, she wanted to remember this moment, have it imprinted in her mind forever. The artist, with his backside to her while she waited tangled in his sheets.
No, she would never regret this.
He crept back to the mattress, back to Amy. He stretched out against the mattress, propping himself on an elbow to look at her. "Feeling better?"
She pressed her lips into a smile. "Yeah, you?"
He nodded, trailing his fingers up her leg and over her hip before resting his hand on her waist. She put a hand over his, watching him quietly.
She began to push herself up after a moment, tucking some hair behind her ear as she looked down at Vincent. "I should probably head back over, before the Doctor wakes."
"He's lucky to have someone like you."
"You mean, someone that will follow him around everywhere and not do as he says?" She quipped, her voice low. She leaned in, flashing Vincent a secretive look. "I think he likes it."
Vincent laughed as he readjusted the pillow under his head, tucking an arm underneath it. "You're very special, Amy Pond."
"Yeah, well," she leaned down to kiss Vincent on the mouth, letting herself linger for a moment. He wasn't going to let her go that easy though. She muttered against his mouth before she pulled back.
"You," Amy pushed a finger into his shoulder, pushing him back down toward the mattress. "Are making it very hard for me to get out of bed."
"That's the point," Vincent grinned. That grin almost cost her her motivation to leave this room.
She maneuvered over him, stumbling slightly as her feet caught themselves on the floor. Vincent rolled over to watch her as she moved around the room, collecting her clothing as she retraced their earlier steps.
Once she had all the pieces, she began to dress herself, her back toward Vincent. She heard him move behind her, the mattress creaking and his feet padding across the floor. She pulled her shirt back over her head, tugging it down over has so that it covered the top of her skirt.
"I wish I could convince you to stay. Both of you. But especially you."
Amy turned to the man who wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing. She knew he was referring to more than just tonight but her heart thudded faster with him being so close to her. She forced a small smile.
"I know. I wish you could, too."
He felt for her hand, grasping it in his before pulling it to his lips. He pressed a kiss to her palm. "Go see to the Doctor. I will see both of you off in the morning."
She had to remove herself from him or else she wouldn't find the courage to leave. That, or the Doctor would find them and Amy didn't want any lectures on interfering to ruin her time with the artist.
"I'll see you soon," she said, resisting the urge to kiss him before she showed herself out.
Slowly dropping down the stairs into the crisp night air, Amy tightly crossed her arms across her chest. She breathed in deeply as she stood outside for a few moments longer. Her eyes were immediately drawn upward to the sky. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She could stand out here without worry of some invisible Krafayis but there were heavier things weighing on Amy's shoulders now.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the light go dark in the window of Vincent's bedroom. She watched the window for a couple more minutes, thinking how she'd never really look at paintings of his bedroom the same way again.
Crossing the yard and ducking under some paintings, she headed back to the main house. She pushed the door open, slipping past the threshold into the house.
She couldn't be sure how long she had been gone with Vincent but she didn't expect the Doctor to sleep that long. Everything she gathered from spending time with him on the TARDIS, he didn't require much sleep. Not that he had time for any, flitting between the big days.
Her brows furrowed as she stepped into the kitchen's doorway, spying the fireplace. The bench was empty. There was no Doctor, the blanket which he had commandeered folded up neatly.
"There you are," the Doctor's voice came from behind her, causing Amy to nearly jump out of her skin.
To be continued.