Summary: The Doctor has to go shopping for Amy. Awkwardness ensues. Did she eat the purple…? 11th Doctor/Amy Friendship. Oneshot, with a short epilogue.
Warning: If there are any guys even thinking about reading this, you probably don't want to. I doubt there are any, but I'm just letting you know. This is my first fic and it's unbeta'd. I just wrote it and read it over.
Disclaimer: If I owned it, it wouldn't be called fanfiction.
"Doctor." Amy's whine carried through the TARDIS, landing on his ears just as she moaned again. "Doctor…." The man in the tweed jacket stiffened, turning his head in the direction of the sounds. "Amy? Are you alright?" Ever since Rory had died, the Doctor was even more worried about his companion.
"No-o." She drew out the o, sounding pitiful. "Doctor!" This time, he could hear the pain in her voice, and fear struck his right heart. Had she wandered into the greenhouse? Oh god, please let her not have wandered into the greenhouse! He sprinted out of the console room and into the main corridor, unsure of which way to turn.
"Amy! Where are you?" Please, please, please let Amy not be slowly eaten by the ivy at the bottom of the garden… All he heard next was another low moan that he recognized as his companion's. Quickly, the Doctor traced it back through the TARDIS, asking the ship where she was. She was… in her bedroom. Not being eaten by slightly carnivorous garden plants? But wait, she could have found that box in the library! Why didn't he tell her about the box? The Doctor ran as fast as he could manage to Amy's room, his screwdriver ready and a series of questions for her on his lips. When he burst in the door, he found Amy lying on her side on the bed, legs curled up and arms loosely wrapped around her stomach.
"Oh no, Amy, you didn't eat the purple-"
"No, Doctor, I…"
"No. You didn't find the room off the wardrobe with the- well, if you've been there, you know, I can explain, now open your mouth, I have to sonic you, where does it hurt?"
"My stomach, and Doctor, there's no need to scan me, I have an idea abou-" The Doctor put a finger over her lips and crouched next to her bed. "Amy, I know what the problem might be, and I'm sorry, this might hurt, I need you to-"
"Doctor! I know what the problem is! Can't you take a hint?" He rolled back on his heels, slightly mystified. "You know the effects of the slightly venomous wandering scorpion box that I keep in the library? Blimey."
"No, Doctor, I did not get bitten by your slightly venomous box thing," Amy said, wincing slightly. "This has nothing to do with you or the TARDIS. It's more of a… personal problem if you know what I mean…" The Doctor didn't know what she meant.
"Um," he said, "No. Not getting it. What's wrong, exactly? Because I swear you've eaten the purple-"
"No!" Amy shouted, raising herself onto her elbow, "I did not eat the purple… thing! God, Doctor! I'm having cramps! I was going to ask you for a favor, but no, you thought I ate a slightly venomous box thing or something! Argh!" She flopped back onto the pillow and cradled her midsection with one hand, the other running through her red hair. "Do you get me now?"
The Doctor rocked back again on his heels, a look of puzzlement on his face. Was that a symptom of the purple- no. But it wasn't a characteristic of wandering scorpion venom either. Nor was it a side effect for the… something in that room off the wardrobe. And Amy had said she knew what was wrong.
"No, Pond, I don't get you. It must be a side effect of that- here, let me sonic you." He pushed her hand gently off her stomach and pointed the screwdriver at it. Before he could hit the button, however, Amy had shoved his hand away and slapped him lightly on the ear.
"Ow! What was that for, Pond?" The Doctor tapped her on the nose with the last word, feeling like he was missing something important. Human, human female, cramps, Amy….
"Nope," he said, "definitely not getting it." Amy looked like she was about to explode and the Doctor had a very unpleasant mental image of her shredding him to death with her red painted fingernails. "But maybe you could explain?" he added, "Since you, ah, know?"
"It," Amy yelled at full volume, her accent sounding thicker, "is my 'time of the month'! Do I have to spell everything out for you? God, you really are nine!" She glared at him, absently stroking her abdomen. And suddenly, it clicked.
"Oh," said the Doctor.
"Yes," Amy snarled, "oh!"
"Oh…. Oh!" Amy slapped his ear again.
"Can you please just get me some aspirin and a hot water bottle? God!"
"Yeah, of course, I, uh, I'll do that." The Doctor was conscious of babbling as he backed out of the room, Amy rolling her eyes. Once he had escaped, the Doctor leaned against the wall, tilting his head back. How could he be so stupid? He could feel his face turning red just thinking about the encounter in Amy's bedroom. He'd gone through similar problems with Rose, although that body had just grinned and hugged her, even though she could be a right bitch when she was at that time. Stupid Doctor. Stupid Doctor. The least he could do for poor Amy was fetch a hot water bottle. After Rory never existed, her hormones must have been acting up.
He made his way to the bathroom linen closet, which happened to be in the library at that moment. He was tempted to search for the wandering scorpion box, but no… focus on the task at hand. The Doctor finally found a hot water bottle at the back of the closet and grabbed it before running to the master bathroom. Aspirin, aspirin, aspirin… would pollen from the planet Droug have the same effects? Ah well, better not risk it, the last time Rose took some… he shuddered at the thought. Aspirin it was then. Now to the kitchen!
He boiled some water in record time, speeding things up with the sonic, and ran back to Amy's room after filling the rubber bottle. On the way, he snatched a glass of tap water for her to take the pills. The Doctor skidded back into her room a total of five minutes after he had left, quite pleased with himself.
"What took you so long?" Amy grumbled, managing to give him an even more annoyed look than before. The TARDIS gave a disapproving sort of hum, and Amy smiled.
"You would be on her side," the Doctor mumbled to the ship. Amy smirked.
"Just give 'em here, Doctor." She held out her hands and the he obediently placed the hot water bottle and aspirin into her arms. She settled the bottle on her lower stomach and sighed happily at the warmth, her eyes closing. The Doctor stood a bit awkwardly with the glass of water in his hand, waiting for her to say something else. "Uh…"
Amy's eyes snapped open and she grinned.
"Yeh, give me the water, Doctor."
"You have to sit up," he instructed, putting on a businesslike manner. She rolled her eyes and propped herself half of the way up.
"You know, you're not an invalid," he said before he could stop himself, "You can move, I-" He stopped at the look Amy was giving him and thought about her situation for a moment, trying to think of examples. Rose… aggressive, and then irritated with him. Martha… all over him (he shivered a little bit at the images that came to mind). Donna… bad-mouthing him, not that there was any change there. Oh. Hormones. Mood swings. Right. Why did he always travel with women, and why was this new body so clueless about them? He needed to teach himself a thing or two.
"Doctor!" The Doctor jumped and hastily handed his friend the water, nearly spilling it all over himself in the process. "Sorry Amy, got a bit caught up in thought. Is there anything else you need?" Ignore the red your face is turning, don't start babbling, just act like a protective father. No, wait. Not father, definitely not father… fathers are more awkward than you. He tried on a few expressions and settled on a friendly smile, hoping she wouldn't bark at him.
"Actually…" Now it was her turn to go red. "Yeah. I was kind of hoping it could wait, but I, ah… need a few supplies." Amy's face matched her hair. The Doctor thought hard. Nope. Nothing.
"What was that, Pond?" Keep the smile on your face.
"I said, I need some supplies," she muttered. It dawned on him that she was embarrassed. Tough, no nonsense Amy was embarrassed! But what about…? Find out without getting her mad, he said to himself, adding a few words of Gallifreyan.
"Supplies, um, earth slang, twenty-first century, you need, you need, you need, you need, ah…" And now he was babbling again. The Doctor wondered vaguely if there was a record for words babbled, and if he had possibly broken it quite a few years ago purely by mistake. Maybe they'd give him an award. A babbler's trophy. And his thank-you speech could last the entire day… He was smiling happily, warming up to the idea, when a loud hum from the TARDIS brought the task at hand back into focus.
"Sorry, Pond, what?" But Amy was glaring at him yet again. Her frowny face was beginning to get a bit old.
"Do I have to spell it out for you," she said slowly, "or do you know what I mean?"
"Spell it out," he said hopelessly, a look of confusion replacing the smile on his clean-shaven face.
"Tampons," said Amy, blushing furiously, "I need tampons. Or pads. Preferably both? Pleeease can we stop having this conversation? I just need a favor." The Doctor's brain was functioning on so many levels, he was afraid he might start discussing the relative merits of different years for banana growing. Wrong time, he reminded himself. Amy needed him.
"Yes, of course, Amy, there should be some in, ah, in… Rose! Rose had some... no, was she… no, I think Rose… Oh! Donna! No, wait, I don't even know where her room is. Peri... no."
"Doctor," Amy said quietly, "Are you telling me that as many women as you have travelled with, you have no idea what to do in this situation?" He shook his head.
"Why didn't you, erm, bring some with you? Blimey." She was still red, but managed to look nonchalant as she shrugged.
"You stole me out of my bed in my nighty. What was I supposed to say? 'Oh, excuse me, Doctor, let me go off and fetch my feminine items!' If I'd said that, you would've up and left before I got back outside, and don't deny it."
"Well," the Doctor whispered, slightly annoyed, "It would have prevented us from having this conversation, wouldn't it!"
"Believe me Doctor, I don't want this conversation any more than you do. Now, is there anything I can use on this whole ship, or do you have to take a shopping trip? Just get some, fast."
"Alright, Pond," he said, tapping her nose affectionately with one finger, "I'll check. Honey," he called to the TARDIS, "Can you help Amy out?" The Doctor focused on the psychic link, searching through the TARDIS's mind. Nothing came up, and he swore mentally in Gallifreyan.
"No, Amy, I haven't got anything on the TARDIS. Blimey, I don't believe it. Right. What was it you needed again?"
"Don't make me say it again, Doctor, you heard me." Yes, that was true. He seemed to be playing dumb again.
"Right, yes, I did, I heard you, I need to take a shopping trip, where do you get these… things? I'll need money, won't I? How much money?"
"Dunno, six, seven pounds? Any shop, really, try a drug store." Amy was tired of having to explain everything.
"What am I looking for, exactly?" The Doctor had no idea what he was buying. He vaguely wondered if he'd ever had to do this before, but it didn't occur to him that he ever had. Mad, impossible Amy Pond, always making him try new things. Not that this was something he would have volunteered to do had Amy not looked so pathetic. Or was it because she looked angry? The image of her shredding him to death with her nails made a reappearance. Yes, if Amy wasn't about to kill him, this was not something he would ever have chosen to do. It registered that Amy was glaring at him again and he jumped.
"I just told you," Amy said slowly and lethally, "but you weren't listening. So you can figure it out yourself." She smirked self-satisfactorily and ran a hand through her hair. The Doctor found himself watching her fingers as they raked through her mane rather than thinking about what she had said. Then it dawned on him.
"No! Amy, you can't just let me do that all by myself! Won't you come with me? I don't know what to do!"
"I," his friend said, "Am in pain, lying in bed. I wish I wasn't, but, you'll just have to go by yourself. You're looking for a box, about this big" –she held up hands about seven inches apart- "and a sort of soft package about this big" –the same motion, a little closer together. "I think they're pink. There should be an aisle for it. If you can't find it, ask. Now go before I bleed through my pants!" she added, momentarily forgetting her embarrassment. The Doctor grimaced at the last sentence, and raised his hands in defeat.
"Right, I'll just be off, back in a tic." He patted her on the head and walked out of the room, sprinting toward the console room once he hit the hallway. What did he get himself into with Amelia Pond? She can't even take care of the necessities. Rose would never have come to him about that problem- early on, she would have made an excuse for a stop, or asked Jack, and later she wouldn't have forgotten. Now that he thought about it, he didn't really think about it with his other companions, unless it was obvious and they were biting his head off. Or with Rose, there was the occasional week when she didn't want to- Anyway. Amy. He pulled a few knobs and set the dial to London, twenty-first century.
As the ship shuddered to a halt, he straightened his bowtie- bowties are cool- and stepped out of the TARDIS. It appeared that she had landed in an alleyway outside a drug store.
"Good girl," he muttered, patting her side. "I'll be back soon. I hope." He pushed the thought of being lost in aisles of feminine products from his mind. Was it possible to be-? Oh, no, push away the thought. With a shudder, the Doctor walked up to the drug store and then chuckled a little to himself when the automatic doors opened. "Never gets old."
The cool air of the shop caressed his cheek, and he breathed in the sweet candy-and perfume scent on the air. He liked a little shop. Little shops were quite nice. But he was on a mission, and he needed to get it over with.
Look for pink, look for pink, there should be an aisle for it. Pink. What if everything in this store was pink? He acknowledged the friendly hello of the shop girl with a nod, and strode down the middle of the store. Feminine products aisle… pink. Feminine products aisle… pink. Oh. There it was. The Doctor swallowed heavily and stepped in between the shelves. Amy said… two boxes. They're all boxes! He had a moment of panic before realizing the names of what she had said. Tampons and pads. I think. Pink. Squashy package and a box. The problem was, now that he was here he could see how vague Amy had been. Why couldn't she have come with him? Or better yet, have done it herself. He took a deep breath and stared at the solid wall of embarrassing… female-ness. You are helping Amy. Just think of her as small Amelia. No, that didn't help, small Amelia wouldn't need his help in this department! Just breathe. You are helping Amy. If you can face Daleks and Cybermen and (god forbid) Martha's mum, you can do this.
The Doctor reached out a hand toward the nearest box and plucked it off the shelf, looking stealthily around before examining the back. These were one of the things she needed… but how was he supposed to know if they were right? There were shelves of these things! A woman walked into the aisle and looked at him suspiciously before grabbing what she needed and hurrying away. Right. Shouldn't look suspicious. Just grab something and run, his mind pleaded, it doesn't matter how long you stand here; you'll not know the difference! He suddenly, desperately wished River were there to help him. Even Rory would be more help! Why couldn't Rory have been erased after helping Amy with her problem?
The back of the box said "superior leak protection." Underneath that was a warning of some kind of disease you could get from these things, more specifically if you forgot you had one. It was all very confusing. "Blimey, Amy," he muttered, "these sound dangerous." The Doctor let his mind wander to the other dangerous situations his companions had been in, and the diseases they'd caught, but there was nothing like this. If anything happened to Amy, it was her own fault. He quickly tucked the box under his arm, deciding it would have to do, and turned around to the other side of the aisle, nearing bowling over a middle-aged woman as he did so.
"Sorry, sorry, yes, I'm sorry about that, there you go, you've got your purse, I wouldn't steal it, I'm not a pickpocket you know, not like some of the ruffians about, eh?" Babble babble babble. Perhaps he'd now broken his previous record! He was a double babbling champion now! Just as he was wondering how to work bananas into his acceptance speech, the woman cleared her throat and he looked down at her, bemused.
"Yes, right, sorry. I tend to space out." The Doctor widened his eyes involuntarily and wiggled his fingers at eyebrow level. This body was odd. Amy must be doing things to him. Anyway, woman! Random woman, yes!
Her blue eyes flicked to the box under his arm, and she made no attempt to move away from the shelf he wanted.
"Right, yes, if I could just-" he motioned towards the shelf and she crossed her arms, raising her left eyebrow. That used to be a quirk of his. He missed that eyebrow. I wonder if I can still do that. The Doctor contorted his face and wondered what it looked like. It felt like his eyebrow was up there… wait, no, Amy! Amy, bleeding, ah, um, he'd been here too long, needed to get out! But the woman simply stood there.
"Do you mind?" she asked, "I was just shopping and some teenager nearly knocks me down!" But he could tell she didn't care. Her eyes kept going back to the object under his armpit. She was curious.
"They're for a friend," the Doctor explained, "she just needed some… stuff. I like stuff. Anyway, I really need to hurry, she's a bit testy."
"Oh, are you shoppin' for your mother? I know what that's like."
"No, she's just a friend, we travel together, and I really need to get going before she, ah, anyway I need to get going and I think what I need is right behind you, so if I could just grab it?" The woman reached behind her and handed him a package. "These should work for your friend." She paused and then winked at him. "Let me know if you have any more problems." The Doctor tucked the package she offered under his, thanked her, and backed away from the aisle, back into the middle of the store. God, she was like Rose's mum! He strode, horrified, down the center aisle and up to the register.
"Hello," he said, putting the items on the counter, "How much are these?" The shop girl saw what he put had down and raised her eyebrows.
"I'll scan 'em." The price was about seven pounds, and he ran the psychic paper through the scanner, hoping it knew what he wanted. Thankfully, the register beeped and the girl smiled.
"There you go, mate. 'Ave a good day."
"Thanks, I hope I do." The Doctor grabbed the offered bag and sprinted out of the store, back into the alley. When he got there he leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. Mission… completed! He sauntered back into the TARDIS, feeling extremely proud of himself.
"Amy! I've got the stuff!" he called, patting the console of his ship as he walked by. He heard her relieved 'yay' and wondered if she thought he'd taken too long. Not wanting to take any longer to find out, he made a beeline to her room, shouldering open the door and walking in to grin down at Amy. Amy pursed her lips in annoyance.
"Finally!" she said, sitting up all the way, still cradling the water bottle to her middle. "I was starting to think you'd made a side trip to the end of the universe. Give 'em here." The Doctor handed over the plastic shopping bag and made to leave so that Amy could have her privacy. He had one foot out of the room when he heard a soft whisper.
"Oh, and Doctor?" He turned and looked back to Amy's bed.
"Thanks." The annoyance was gone from her voice, leaving only a quiet gratitude. The Doctor strode back to her bedside and kissed her forehead, gently smoothing the hair back from her face as he did so.
"Anytime, Pond. Anytime."
Later, Amy thought it was very good that the Doctor didn't hear her laughter just a few minutes later when she walked into the bathroom. There, on the counter, were the exact supplies she needed, thoughtfully provided by the TARDIS while the Doctor was away.
"You had them all along, didn't you?" she whispered to the ship. "You just wanted to see him help me. You wanted him embarrassed!" It was also very good, Amy thought, that he didn't hear the accompanying chime-like sound from the TARDIS that confirmed her words.
"I won't tell," she murmured. "We don't want him exploding another star, now do we?" She patted the wall of the ship and smiled.
A/N- This was my first fanfic ever, Doctor Who or otherwise, but I've been a fan for a while. This idea just wouldn't go away until I wrote it. Every time you review, the Doctor gets a babbling trophy. No flames please, Amy has enough of her own.