She is a poison in his bones, a fire in his blood. Despite everything, there's nothing he can do about it, and she knows it.

Five minutes. That's what he told her and that's exactly what he intended, but since when do things go as he intended them to? He runs into her house, unaware of the cricket bat that awaits him on the second floor. He lands with a thwack on the hard floor and wakes up to a pair of legs straight in front of his eyes. Long, long legs. His eyes travel up to her face - she's a ginger. She is a reckless with a bold attitude and hair to match. Of course. Barely even an hour into this new body and he's already met his demise.

She runs around the Starship UK with him in her nightie, eyes alight with a fire he hasn't seen before. She has a mind of her own and takes orders from no one. She frees the Starwhale from torture and could have killed them all in the process, but she is set in her ways. And it drives him mad. He sneaks away and thinks to himself on an observation deck. He thinks about her. She really is mad and impossible, he realizes. It's almost infuriating. She is suddenly beside him, soft ringlets falling down from her hastily pinned-up hair and framing her face. He feels his anger ebb away, and all he has to do is look at her.

The nightie is replaced with short skirts, not as short as before but daring, all the same. She saves them all again, this time with her words. Words that speak of 'fancying someone you shouldn't', words that dance off of her tongue and go straight to his very soul. His blue eyes meet her green ones, and for a brief moment he is sure she knows. But she can't possibly, not when he has been so careful. So, so careful. She looks away but he keeps his eyes as they were, watching her. Those words of hers, the ones that replay in his head and settle in his heart, are the ones that save them. He momentarily lets his guard down to grab her and kiss her forehead. She is a mystery to him.

He leans over the glass case in the museum, watching her expression as she does the same. She's in her shortest skirt since they began travelling, and it's nearly invisible under her baggy red sweater. She flaunts her legs around like it's nothing and smirks at him every few moments. It's a wonder she hasn't caught him looking yet. She's wearing sneakers with her outfit today as opposed to her usual boots, and they look very familiar. Were those once his? It's then that they run together, fleeing as usual. She laughs as they do, and he forgets everything and wants them to run forever. It wouldn't be hard.

They sit in her bedroom looking at her wedding dress and engagement ring. He nearly feels his heart sink as they do - it makes it so much more wrong. She drops the subject and looks at him, her eyes blazing, the tone of her voice suddenly changed. He can cut the tension with a knife, he thinks, but his reverie is broken as she hitches her leg up and snakes her arms around his neck. He throws himself away and leans against the TARDIS, flabbergasted. She can't do this, he can't do this. They can't.

She is faster than he imagined she would be and she's pressed against him, fiddling with his shirt and he tells her this shouldn't be happening. He can't want this, not when he knows it's the night before her wedding. He thinks about Rory as she stands a foot away from him, giving him a sneaky smile as she closes in again. She closes the distance between their lips, kissing him fiercely as she holds his neck. He needs to stop her, but his concentration is momentarily broken and he grabs her shoulders, pulling her ever closer. She is impossible, an unstoppable force, threatening to break so many of the rules he's made for himself. He's already broken so many even considering this, and there's no turning back, he knows it. It takes effort to pull her away, and she turns and throws herself on her bed, looking expectantly over at him. Her eyes still burn and he imagines his do too. Being in her room is killing him, and he grabs her to take her away. He turns and pins her against the TARDIS, and her voice is low again. He pushes her into the police box and she yelps as he does. He feels the ghost of her hands on his shirt, his shoulders, his neck, he remembers the feel of her skin and the taste of her lips…

This is definitely wrong, he knows that. But maybe he doesn't want to be so right anymore.

He races to find Rory. He knows her intentions, and he needs something, anything, to distract him so she wouldn't find out about his. He takes them to Venice where it's serene and beautiful, and with Rory, nothing will happen. But of course, it doesn't go as planned and they need to get into the Calvierri school. She wants to be the one to sneak in, of course. She tells him to pretend to be her fiancé, and his stomach flips. He thought this trip would distract the both of them, but apparently not. She looks at him like her suggestion is obvious, and there's that look in her eyes again. Rory sits in the corner, glaring at the both of them. Guilt overtakes his greed and he rubs at his face. This bad, so very bad. What has he gotten himself into?

Her words burn him. He knows she doesn't mean them and she said them in a state of grief, but they hurt all the same. They prick at his skin, each a white-hot reminder of the truth he's already beginning to realize. She doesn't want you, they scream at him. She only wants him. You're kidding yourself. She insists that this is a dream, and that she doesn't want it even if it is reality. Their hands lock and her watery eyes bore into his. There's no fire this time, no poorly hidden desire - it's pure sadness and desperation. They climb into the camper van and she takes the driver's side despite being heavily pregnant. He sees the Dream Lord in the back and he hates himself. He knows that's him, knows this is all his own fault. His darkest side brought out into the light of day and he's the only one that can see that. The words burn him again. She would rather die than live without Rory. Not you. He knows.

She stands with him, all short shorts and cowboy boots, when the earthquake strikes. The ground shakes and equipment tumbles everywhere around them, the very ground opening up. The earth collapses to reveal holes where solid ground had once been and she tumbles into one. He throws himself to the ground and struggles over to her, not caring about being pulled down himself. She holds onto his hand for dear life, and he grabs her harder than he's ever done before. All it takes is a slip for a split second and it's too late, she's pulled deeper down and he can see in her eyes that she's given up. The dirt falls over her hair and he screams her name, grabbing at her fingers. More earth covers her and with that she's gone, the earthquake over and the ground still. He's lost her, and it's unbearable.

She screams at him, pulling roughly on his jacket, distraught beyond measure. She reaches for the console, trying to stop them in flight and turn them back to save him. He tries to tell her Rory can't be saved, that he's already gone but all she has to do is remember, to keep him in her head. He pins her arms down and hugs her to him, leading her towards the chair. She stares forwards, eyes glassy and sad, concentrating with all her might. She had screamed at him that he had told her she was a time traveller now, that she wanted him to tell her it would be okay. She cried out through her sobs, her whole form shaking in his arms. He wants to hold her close, tell her everything would be fine, and never let her go. His stomach drops at her pain, and he's never felt so useless before. The whole console room jolts and they're sent sprawling to the glass floor, and he knows her concentration is gone. She can't remember Rory anymore, he's all too aware of it. They're back to the beginning, back to just the two of them travelling the stars, but now he's the guilty one.

He wonders to himself if this is how it felt for her in the beginning, when it was just them but Rory was always there waiting in the back of her mind, making her re-evaluate her every thought. The guilt he feels almost overwhelms him, and he's become beyond conflicted. He remembers Rory jumping in front of the gun and dying for him, it's a memory that will never leave him. Another innocent human who died for him. And yet he still feels that little twinge in his heart when she looks at him, despite all that's happened. All those feelings are still there: amazement, confusion, want. The sadness, pain and guilt are dominant too. He wants to stop, he truly does, but the ghost of her touch haunts him.

She walks around the console room, short skirts and boots as usual, giving him that little look with the spark in her eyes he hasn't seen in a while. She looks over her shoulder at him and smirks because she knows he's watching.

He knows it's wrong. He does it anyway.