Author's Note: You should know two things before you choose to read this story: I'm American and I write in script format. Wait, wait, wait... don't run off just yet. The American thing, I can't help. I'm only telling you so that when I say words like "suspenders" instead of "braces," you'll know why. If someone says something in an un-British way, please let me know. I'll fix it. The script format... you might not hate it as much as you're thinking. I hope you'll give it a shot!
As for the story itself, just know that while I like Rory and I completely respect his place on the show and his love for Amy... well, this is a story about Amy and the Doctor. And it's a bit of a love story. Maybe it's when she's forgotten Rory. Maybe this is an alternate universe where Rory doesn't exist. Whatever. He's not here.
I hope you enjoy, and I always always always appreciate feedback. Oh, and this is my first Doctor Who fic so criticism works as well as praise. Thank you!
INT. TARDIS - DAY
The TARDIS is quiet. A gentle hum drifts from the console...
from the heart of the TARDIS. The Doctor bursts frantically
through the door, dragging Amy behind him. He spins around,
flinging Amy to the side, so that he may secure the doors.
Doctor, are you okay?
Distracted, he spins bobbles and pushes buttons on the
TARDIS control console.
Yes. No. Well, yes.
Long-term: yes. Quite okay.
The doctor kicks his shoes off. Amy shakes her head.
No. Not quite okay. Quite not-okay,
actually. Thanks for bringing it
up, though-that gloomy detail.
Amy watches for a beat as The Doctor tugs off each of his
socks, not keeping his balance well in the process.
Well, what's wrong?
Barefoot, The Doctor steps up to her-close and in her face.
He's dead serious when he asks:
Am I hot?
Am. I. Hot?
The Doctor shrugs out of his jacket, letting it fall to the
floor behind him. He continues to undress throughout the
scene with Amy taking note, but trying to ignore.
Well, objectively speaking, you're
a bit unusual-looking what with
your funny, floppy hair and all,
but I suppose-what are you doing?
Keep talking. You suppose...
The Doctor pulls his suspenders off his shoulders.
I suppose, on the whole, you're not
entirely horrible to look at.
The Doctor scoffs and shakes his head. He grabs Amy by the
shoulders and shakes her... just a degree above gently.
I am speaking strictly thermally
here, Pond. Although, did you say
my hair was-
Funny. And floppy. Yes. Thermally?
The Doctor drops his hands from Amy's shoulders. She uses
the freedom and proximity to grab his suspenders and yank
them back onto his shoulders.
As in with respect to my thermal
The doctor slips off his suspenders again.
So, please tell me: am I hot?
The Doctor tugs at his bow tie.
Oh, God. Why didn't you just say
so? You think you've got a
temperature or something?
Well, we've all got a temperature,
haven't we? Though I do suspect
that, currently, mine might be a
teensy weensy bit elevated.
Amy puts the back of her hand against his forehead. She
pulls it back quickly as her eyebrows shoot up.
Doctor, you're right. You are so
unbelievably hot right now.
The Doctor pauses, bow tie in hand. He cocks an eyebrow.
Thermally speaking, of course.
(she glances at his tie)
Because bow ties... are not hot.
I know. They're cool.
But, at the moment, I'd like for
this one to kindly release its grip.
He makes to untie the knot, but Amy swats his hand away and
works more gingerly (ha) on the tie.
So, we've established you're hot.
Can I out-of-contextually quote you
on that in the future?
Amy glares and finishes with the bow tie. She throws it in
So, no, then?
The doctor quickly untucks his shirt and unbuttons it to
reveal an undershirt.
Really, what are you doing?
He slips the shirt off and throws it in the growing pile of
clothes at his feet.
(he wobbles his hand)
The doctor reaches down to undo the button on his pants.
Wait, whoa there.
The Doctor meets her eye.
You're not that hot.
I beg to differ.
The doctor pulls his undershirt off.
Oh, I bet you do, but-
The doctor silences her by throwing his undershirt over her
head. She pulls it off, revealing a scowl.
My normal body temperature hovers
just a scoche above 15 degrees.
Currently, I'm at about 75 degrees,
which, by the way is more than
twice the average human standard.
If you already knew your current
body temperature-and how it
compares to the average human-
why'd you ask me if you were hot?
Because... even in moments of
extreme thermal stress, I'm not one
to shy away from such an obvious
The Doctor smirks. Amy pegs him in the face with his shirt.
It falls into his pile. The doctor shrugs and reaches for
the button on his pants.
Oi! Keep your pants on, Doctor.
I was planning on it; I'm not that
immodest. But these trousers have
He reaches for the button again. Amy grabs his hands. He
looks down at her hands over his then back up at her.
What? You're not even curious?
The age old question...
Amy looks mildly horrified.
Boxers... or briefs?
QUICK CUT TO CREDITS.