An alternate ending to how the Doctor and Amy said goodbye. Because, really, it should have happened this way. Amy/Doctor with assumed Amy/Rory.

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, yadda yadda. However, I do own this story including the time and heart that has gone into it.

It has come to my attention that this story has been reposted under someone else's account without any credit or notification to me… again. This is the original story and I am working right now to have the story removed.


Amy looks back to the house he's referring to and her stomach turns over. Not because she truly believes that the married, domestic life is a scarier adventure than traveling all of space and time, but because her best friend was standing in the doorway of the TARDIS, ready to bolt from her life. She had a flash of panic that when she would turn back to him, she would hear the familiar churn of those damn brakes.

Her head turned slowly back. He was still there. "Even so," she starts, pushing herself off of the car, "it can't end like this. After everything we've been through, Doctor. Everything. You can't just drop me off at my house and say goodbye like we shared a cab."

He walks up to her until he's less than an arm's length of way. There he was again, avoiding personal space. "And what's the alternative? Me standing over your grave?"

Her heart drops; she never thought of it that way. He continues, "Over your broken body, over Rory's body."

He hangs his head and shakes it slightly.

Amy pulls him into a hug. She knows he's been there before. Heck, she was there before. She strokes the back of his head, combing over that ridiculous hair of his. She hears a small noise come from him as he buries his head in his shoulder.

Amy's vision starts to blur and she hugs just a bit tighter. This can't end, not like this.

She knows if she doesn't pull away now, she won't ever. Just when they're a nose-length away, she looks into his eyes. Those green eyes that she has always known to be filled with such wonder now only show his age. He's never looked 900 years old as much as he did at this moment.

Those ancient eyes close and next thing Amy knows is that his lips are softly brushing hers. It's so soft that it actually tickles her lips. Her heart is beating so loudly in her chest she swears he can hear it. He probably can. She feels a burst of… a burst off butterflies in her stomach. She starts to wonder when the last time she felt butterflies from a simple kiss when she feels the tip of his tongue trace her lips.

Amy finally closes her eyes and opens her mouth to him and finally feels his tongue lazily graze and stroke hers. She moves her hand back up into his hair and runs her fingers through it. Her other arm holds onto him tightly. She feels her movements being similarly mirrored. The Doctor's arm around her waist brings her in closer until they are flush against one another. Amy starts to move him forward, forcing him to walk backward until he hits the front of his TARDIS.

Suddenly, Amy feels like she is back in her bedroom, the night before her wedding. Except this time is so different. This isn't a kiss of passion, to kill some time. This is a kiss of endearing love that is so much more than sexual attraction. This is a kiss when no words could possibly be written down in the English language to describe what she was feeling. This is a kiss of thanks, of gratitude, of affection, of memories.

This is a kiss of goodbyes between two people where even "best friend" couldn't define them.

He doesn't stop kissing her until Amy pulls away. He looks at her like he's a deer in headlights. His lips are just a bit pink. He looks adorable.

He clears his throat. "Maybe we should-"

"Yeah," Amy interrupts. She takes a step back. He fixes his bowtie.

A pause. "You're not going to…"

He doesn't finish his sentence but he doesn't need to the way his eyes waiver towards the front door of the house.

"No." She knows she doesn't sound convincing.

He looks a bit defeated. "You are, aren't you?"

"Yeah, probably."

"Right, I better get going before the Roman comes at me."

"We don't keep anything from each other, not even best friend snogs." She smiles some-what apologetically. "If you bump into my daughter, tell her to visit her old mum sometime."

He smiles, a bit broken-heartedly. "And look after him," his eyes gesturing back to the house.

She sighs a little. "Look after you." She's trying so hard to keep smiling because she's afraid if she stops, she'll start crying in earnest.

He gives Amy a small wink. She kisses the top of his head before he turns away back to his TARDIS.