Secrets are Best Shared

Author Note: The following tale is intended as a supplement to the fifth season of Doctor Who broadcast in 2010 and I'd strongly suggest reading it once you've seen the show (not least because there be spoilers here). There's also a fair old bit of story before the filth so you probably want to skip to page 3 if that's what you're after.

Oh, one last thing, this isn't intended to be an entirely accurate portrayal of BDSM but a little more... Hollywood. Anyway, hope you enjoy it and as always feedback whether good, bad or indifferent is more than welcome.

21:00 25th of June, 2010

Roughly 30 minutes from Gloucester the sun was setting over the small English village of Leadworth casting a golden haze over the land. In the garden of a large home on the outskirts of the village the light fell on the rusted iron frame of a swing set, slid over the aged timber of a simple potting shed and, with the sun barely visible on the horizon, caressed the red hair and slender frame of Amy Pond as she stared out of her window. The view before her was truly spectacular, as if the whole world had decided it was time to stop messing about with practice runs and put everything it had into this sunset just in case it was the last chance it got. Under normal circumstances she'd have simply sat and watched, feeling the years slip away to a simpler time. Tonight though, ah, tonight the simpler times had never felt so far gone, yanked away once and for all.

To her right a white dress hung ready for the morning, seemingly glowing in the dying rays of the sun. Almost absentmindedly she reached out and ran a single finger over the silk, lost in her thoughts as they chased each other around and around in her head. She'd been so sure when Rory had proposed and now... No, she was still sure, she loved him and if she was being honest with herself had done for as long as she could remember. No, he wasn't the dashing, carefree adventurer she'd always thought she'd prefer but Rory had, in his own quiet way, convinced her that maybe, just maybe, there was something better. He'd always stood by her, never once made demands or tried to stop her doing something she wanted to do (even the night she told him she was going to be a kissogram had gone smoother than it had any right to, he'd even manage to crack a joke about getting a discount despite clearly being less than thrilled with her choice) and during that insanity with Prisoner Zero two years ago he'd been right by her side. Didn't know what was going on, knew that it was likely dangerous, yet it was as if the idea of turning around and running had never entered his head. Dashing? Carefree? No, not now and probably never. But brave, honest, caring and totally devoted to her? Yeah, she couldn't deny that. And then he'd been there for her when she'd seen that battered old blue box vanish in front of her for the second time. Two years. Two years he'd helped her, never once doubting anything she said and listening to it all despite some of it having to be personally painful to him not to mention her sounding slightly, well, insane at times. No, Rory wasn't the problem. That damn book on the other hand...

He'd left it here by accident she knew. Earlier that day, with all the preparations for the wedding taken care of and so nervous she couldn't possibly sit still, she'd decided to give her bedroom a good top-to-bottom clean. After all, in just 24 hours time she'd be in a position to share it properly and she didn't want anything embarrassing tucked away just waiting to be discovered did she? Then and there she'd decided to make sure that any trace of her raggedy Doctor was hidden away, show Rory that this was indeed a clean start for her. She'd pulled her old suitcase out from under the bed, after all that was where a lot of her older creations where kept anyway, and pulled the remaining dolls and pictures down from her walls. A breeze from the open window had lifted one drawing and sent it fluttering down the side of the table. It was as she had reached down to retrieve it she'd found the book.

Book was maybe being a bit generous, she thought as the sun dipped ever lower towards the horizon, now less than half visible above the distant hills. It was a notebook really, and that's where she'd been caught out as it had looked exactly like the ones she used for everything from shopping lists to a makeshift diary. Not that surprising she supposed, they all came from the Post Office and as it was the only place in the village to buy stationary, no it really shouldn't have been surprising at all that Rory used the same ones. But she hadn't known and had flicked it open at random. She'd smiled when she saw his handwriting and felt her heart flutter as she saw her name at the top of the page. It was a story of some kind and she read the first few lines out of idle curiosity more than anything else.

It was quickly obvious that Rory had written down a daydream about her and as she reached the end of the paragraph she decided it wasn't her place to read it. The last six words of that paragraph though had knocked her for a loop and she'd been unable to put the book down. By the time she'd finished the afternoon had passed to evening and her mental image of Rory had... changed somewhat. She'd had no idea that he had such an active imagination, certainly no idea that he had such a wide range of interests or, for that matter, that he was so skilled at creative writing. She wasn't shocked by the contents, in truth some of what she'd read wasn't too far away from her own fantasies, but suddenly she was beset by doubt. Could she even begin to live up to that image? What would happen if she tried and failed, what if this was what had been keeping Rory interested all these long years? An ideal version of her to which real her would only be a disappointment in comparison. If she messed that up, if she showed she was less than he thought her to be... she couldn't bear that, couldn't bear to loose the best thing in her life. Not again.

The sun finally vanished from sight and shadows spread over the garden. The stars started twinkling above her and for the last time as a single woman she raised her eyes to the heavens. For the last time she gazed up at them and thought of a stranger from those stars and wondered what he was doing now, what life would be like out there, free from responsibility, dancing in myth and legend sorting out the problems of the universe. She clutched the book tightly in her lap and sighed, standing up and stretching suddenly tired limbs. She turned and slid into the warm comfort of her bed, the book slipped under her pillow. The night, the future, beckoned to her and she let it steal over her as she drifted into an edgy, uneasy sleep with the sun shining overhead, carefree days of childhood stretching out long and unending before her and the most wonderful sound in the universe echoing through her dreams, calling her home. Getting louder and louder, closer, dominating the world...

Her eyes snapped open, the dream vanishing but the sound remaining. She raced to the window, heart pounding, not daring to hope. And there, standing upright in her garden, the answer to an unspoken prayer, stood a simple blue box. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared down for a long moment and then she did the only thing she could, the only thing that made sense. She ran. Ran for the door, her right hand grabbing a dressing gown from its hook and the left, seemingly of its own accord, scooping up the book and slipping it into the dressing gown pocket. Ran downstairs. Ran out the door. Ran into the garden. Ran to the light burning on top of that box, ran to her friend standing beside it, ran to the future, to the past, to far flung stars, to wherever he could take her that delayed the present.

23:50 25th June 2010, Several Weeks Later

Amy sat on her bed staring at the Doctor as he looked at the ring she'd just handed him, the comfortable, familiar shape of the TARDIS nestled snuggly in the corner of her room like a full size version of her own home-made dolls. While she was doing her best to hide it she was caught in a trap of her own making and trying desperately to think of a way out.

Originally she'd intended to show the Doctor her wedding dress and explain exactly why she'd chosen to run away with him on the night before the big day. Explain everything, explain how she'd been terrified of failing, of not being good enough to match the version of her she'd seen trapped in words, lovingly bound in Rory's handwriting between the pages of a cheap notebook. Ask him for advice, ask for help, ask for... well, anything really. Maybe even forgiveness for putting herself ahead of the man she loved and looking for answers somewhere else rather than just talking or even just trusting him.

The ring had put paid to that idea. From the moment she'd shown it him and he'd wondered why she hadn't been wearing it she knew she couldn't explain. He was wonderful this Doctor, HER Doctor. She'd seen him in his anger and fury, she'd seen him brave the fire and darkness for people that would never know his name, she'd experienced his forgiveness and kindness first hand and yet, at that moment, she knew that while he would try to understand and help this was something that he'd not be able to understand and there was no way for her to explain it.

Annoyed with herself for even thinking this way, for treating the Doctor as an oracle rather than a person and, more importantly, a friend, she took the ring back and retreated into the familiar ground of sarcasm.

"Why did I leave my engagement ring off when I ran away with a strange man on the night before my wedding? Hmm, you really are an alien aren't you?"

And then it hit her. Maybe she didn't need to explain. Maybe there was a way for the Doctor to reassure her, to give her the confidence she needed. At that moment insecurity and fear and the adrenaline still burning through her system after being moments from death combined to push her onwards and dared her to act.

"It made me think about what I want, about who I want... if you know what I mean..." She left the line open ended, staring at the Doctor with hope and longing and desire. But she could see in his eyes he didn't really understand her, not yet anyway. She tried again, placing more emphasis now on the words but still he hovered on the edge of understanding.

"Doctor, in a word, in one very simple word even you can understand" and she moved forward, slowly but with purpose and kissed her Doctor for the first time. It caught him by surprise and without defence and before he could scramble away she caught a glimpse inside his mind.

The sadness that echoed there almost overwhelmed her, loneliness and pain mixed to a point that seemed impossible. Echoes of his own failures, the countless numbers of the dead that he'd been unable to save, that the universe had claimed for its own. The sure and certain knowledge that everything had a time and a place, that everything must die in the end. Even time lords could not avoid that. It rose around her in that second, filling her head until she felt like it would burst. A symphony of voices, coming from every corner of the universe, filling her head, all different and yet... all the same.

"Have you ever thought what it's like, to be wanderers in the fourth dimension? Have you? To be exiles?"

"Our lives are different from anybody else's. That's the exciting thing. Nobody in the universe can do what we're doing!"

"Courage isn't just a matter of not being afraid. It's being afraid and doing what you have to do anyway"

"What do you mean, I have but a little time left?"

"There should have been another way."

"You'll age here in the TARDIS and then die. But me, I shall go on regenerating until all my lives are spent"

"You can always judge a man by the quality of his enemies."

"You want dominion over the living, yet all you do is KILL!"

"Everybody lives, Rose! Just this once! Everybody lives!'"

"That's who I am: the Time Lord Victorious!"

"You're not the first to have come here. Oh, there have been so many. And what you have to ask yourself is... what happened to them?"

How could she have been so stupid, to seek comfort and reassurance for her own petty problems from a man like this... she should be taking his burdens, helping him to bear them, not adding more. How could she have been so wrong, how could she not have seen this, how could he stand it? The Earth beneath them spinning in the sky so fast no-one even noticed it but him, a myth woven into the very fabric of reality, that one name echoing through eternity in the lifeblood of every world, every race, sometimes hated, sometimes feared, sometimes celebrated and most often just background noise, a whisper in the dark. A voice she'd never heard before echoed in her mind then another, and another. Men, women, what seemed like a thousand different voices merging together, a line stretching across the universe, the few, oh so few, that had shared that burden over the centuries and it seemed to her, in that moment, that they spoke for untold multitudes:

"He's like fire and ice and rage. He's like the night and the storm in the heart of the sun. He's ancient and forever. He burns at the centre of time and can see the turn of the universe. And..... he's wonderful"

The Doctor broke away from her and she pursued him, knowing she couldn't simply back down, needing to hide what he'd shown her but feeling at that moment as if a veil had been lifted from her eyes. She knew him now, she knew who and what he was, what he did and why. And she knew, at that moment, that come what may she'd stand by him through fire and death, a part of something bigger. She pursued him but careful now, her movements obvious, his mind locked tight. She moved in and kissed him, backing him up against the TARDIS and once more she felt herself glimpse his mind. Now though she pulled away before she could enter and sprawled herself on the bed. Distracting, teasing... hiding. Give him time, let him work out the next move. If it involved ravishing her then she would hardly complain, it was still something she very much wanted at that moment and she'd be the first to admit she may have backed off but was still very much trying to seduce him. As much as she may like to pretend that was to keep up the pretence a part of her very much wanted to feel him wrapped around her. He reached down and pulled her off the bed, trapped her briefly against the TARDIS, all part of the dance now as they both knew the ending but had to play their parts to get there.

"Oh Doctor!" She purred but refrained from moving forward towards him again. He half spun, half pushed her into the TARDIS and with a worried look back at the clock followed her inside, brushing past her and heading straight for the console with a determined look on his face.

26th June 2010

Amy lay in Rory's arms, her friends and family dancing around her, a worryingly large number of them copying the Doctor's somewhat questionable moves from earlier in the night. She smiled, hoping that this was one of those times the Doctor's usual charm was on the fritz and he was truly forgotten about in the morning. The man himself was leaning against a wall, his ancient eyes seemingly watching the whole room at once, a small smile on his face as he seemed to relax, properly relax, for the first time she could remember. And she understood, after everything she'd seen how could she not, that it didn't matter what else was wrong with the universe. In this moment, in this time, in this instant of reality, everything was right with the world. Trouble would come soon enough (or, and she couldn't help but giggle softly at the thought, he'd go and find it if it took too long), but here and now he could breathe freely.

She shifted slightly to bring her lips mere inches from Rory's ear.

"You know he's going to leave tonight don't you?"

"Yeah" he replied, and to her surprise there was no hint of relief or anger in his voice. Not that she'd blame him for an instant if there was all things considered but it caught her off guard nonetheless. "Do you want to go with him?" he asked and there was something strange in his tone now that she couldn't place.

"No..... I want us to go with him"

There was a pause, and she felt her pulse pounding in her chest, no idea what the answer would be.

"So do I." Such a simple reply but the longing in his voice was something she'd never thought she'd hear from him, at least not about anything regarding the Doctor. She wiggled round in his arms to face him properly.

"You're sure?"

"Amy... Remember when we were married in Upper Leadworth?"

"Of course, if I didn't you wouldn't either after all." She replied, a slightly smug (but well earned) grin on her face.

"Well the thing is, I still want that. I want a life with you, children, a house of our own, a real settled life. But not now. I want to grow old with you Amelia Jessica Pond..." He paused for a second, as if gathering his courage and staring straight into her eyes as he finished the sentence "... but not before we've had a chance to live."

She kissed him. It was the only thing that seemed to make sense at that moment and she felt Rory smile against her lips as he returned the kiss with a passion he'd always been careful to manage before, as if he'd been worried about her seeing that side of him. His hands were carefully moving around her body, sending little shockwaves up her spine as he skirted the borders of acceptability in such a public setting. She moaned into his mouth and decided there and then she had to tell him the part of the story he didn't know. It wasn't fair on him, not knowing why she'd travelled with the Doctor the night before her wedding, he must still think she was scared or unsure of him or, even worse, that she'd wanted the Doctor all along. No, worse still, that she'd wanted the Doctor instead of Rory. She opened her eyes and glanced over his shoulder, looking towards the Doctor for that one last shot of courage she always seemed able to draw from his presence.

He wasn't there.

It was as if her body moved without any input from her mind. Before she knew it she was outside in the cool, crisp summer night air and running (as best she could in a full length wedding dress) towards her house. Dimly she heard footsteps behind her and knew Rory was following and that was good but she was entirely focused now on just one objective. A few breathless minutes later and she almost skidded into the garden and almost cried with relief to see the TARDIS still sitting there. Gulping air and trying to make it look like she'd been out for a leisurely stroll she strode up to the doors and glanced back as Rory came hurtling around the corner behind her. She raised one eyebrow and he nodded, smiling as he too tried to get his breath back and gestured her forward. She laughed and blew him a kiss, beckoning him to follow her as she strode through the door.

"Oy! Where do you think you're going? We haven't even had a snog in the shrubbery yet!"

The 34th Century. Teatime

The Doctor, Amy and Rory all sat around the console as the TARDIS hummed gently beneath them. All three were lying against whatever came to hand, eyes closed, and seemingly exhausted. Rory's smartly tailored suit had a long gash in the jacket and was missing the right sleeve. Amy's shimmering formal dress was sporting two slits to mid-thigh rather than just the one she'd started with (along with a mental note to go through the TARDIS wardrobe and make sure any other outfits she might decide to wear were suitable for running in) and something unidentifiable, sticky and green coated the front. Even the Doctor hasn't escaped unscathed, one elbow patch hanging off his jacket and his braces and bow tie missing after being sacrificed in one of the less successful escape plans of his long life. Every so often one of the three would groan and shift slightly as their aching muscles protested.