barkinmad | More Ridiculous Amy Antics

I wrote a Little!Amy and Rory drabble fic. Because I cannot be stopped.

Title:The Wrong Kind of Doctor
Rating: G. Like...Disney G.
Characters: Little!Amy and Little!Rory.
Synopsis: Amy can be quite bossy, but Rory doesn't particularly mind.
Disclaimer: Dude, if I had control of Amy she wouldn't have time to hit on the Doctor.
A/N: I wrote this for the "Bowties Are Cool" ficathon. Go there. It's awesome. I've also decided that I'm going to be posting fic here, but also at

sitrow for archives, because I'd hate for that journal to just sit there. Expect there to be a guide post soon! I'm not crossposting this anywhere, so if you like it, rec it!

“Amy, are you sure this is how you play Doctor?” Rory asked, looking at his now torn jacket in despair.

“This is how you play my Doctor,” is all Amy would say in response. She was putting the kitchen knife back in the drawer. Rory had begged Amelia not to ruin his jacket, but she had just rolled her eyes and said she would stitch it back up. When Amy had asked Rory to play the game, he’d had glorious visions of stethoscopes and nurses outfits, like how the other boys described it. Maybe it was because he was scrawny?

“Let’s GO, Doctor!” Amy was already waiting by the door impatiently.

“Okay, okay. But I’m only doing this once, Amy. For you.”

“It’s not ‘Amy’, it’s Amelia. Amelia Pooooooond.”

“Whatever.” Rory shuffled outside in shoes and trousers that were too big and almost immediately got tackled by a blur of red.

“It’s Prisoner Zero!” Amy panted. “He’s escaped! We’ve got to fly away in your box now!”

“My box?”

“Your blue box, silly! The one that goes ‘brrrrr’.” Amy’s hands made a couple of expanding and contracting motions, as if that meant something. “And then it goes ‘weeeeerrrp, weeeerp’.”

“Amy, I’m the only one at school who doesn’t think you’re crazy, and you aren’t helping me out here.”

Amy just rolled her eyes again. “Just imagine it. Here, we’ll use the shed, that’s where it landed.” Amy pulled Rory by the hand into the newly constructed bike shed on her front lawn.

“Here we are! In the pool!” Amy said, and plopped down. “Want to go for a swim?”

“What about Prisoner Zero?”

“Oh, right. We’ll need to kill him with something.” Amy crawled around and picked something up. “Here! A sonic screwdriver!” Amy produced a stick.

“A what?”

“It’s this thing. That he uses. To fix cracks.”

Rory just stood there. That was it, he was never playing Doctor, any sort of Doctor, again. He didn’t even want to be a doctor, no matter how many episodes of Doogie Howser he’d seen.

“Rory?” Amy had a different look on her face now. A sad one. If she started crying, Rory probably would to, so he hoped that she wouldn’t. “Do you believe me?”

“Believe what? That the stick is a screwdriver?”

“No, that…that the doctor is real. I need someone to tell me that he’s real.”

This girl is crazy. Beyond crazy. It was a little sad how crazy she was.

“I think…” Rory started slowly. “I think that, that I’m the Doctor. And I say I’m real.”

Amy’s face lit up. She ran over and kissed him on the cheek. Rory didn’t know it was possible to feel so much blood rushing into his cheeks at once.

“Do you like fish custard?” She asked.