So yeah I'mma continue.

Sorry for all of my nonsense and for those of you who stick with me, thank you for putting up with it!

This one will be a three-parter. I centered this chapter around Rory because who doesn't love Rory.

Also, to my readers who also watch Supernatural, happy Adam Awareness Month! Maybe for the season nine finale they'll remember he's stuck in hell? It is titled Do You Believe in Miracles? after all…

"One of the athletes is a Zygon, that's what I mean!"

Rory Williams wasn't one to get angry much. He was usually pretty calm, because he liked calm and simple and peaceful. He liked the idea of an easy life in Leadworth with Amy, and he almost had that for a while there—but of course, something had to mess that up. When they were little, Amy was obsessed with her Raggedy Doctor, insisting that he dressed up like him, ate bananas for her entertainment until he was thoroughly sick of them. But she had been his best friend. When they got older, and she got past her Raggedy Doctor phase but people still teased her for it, when she went through that pretty dark period she had, he stuck with her. When they got older and the Raggedy Doctor came back, and she was confused as to what to do, what to believe, he let her believe what she believed, let her work things out in her head, and stuck with her. Amy was a very hard person to deal with sometimes, and yet Rory unfalteringly, unconditionally, loyally stayed right by her side.

And then she abandoned him.

It was a bit infuriating. He came along onto their trip, and yeah, it could've been better, but it was okay. There was nothing going on between Amy and the Doctor—he didn't suspect there to be, but it was still a bit of a relief because for a second there it almost seemed like there was. But no, there wasn't. Amy was trustworthy. He felt bad for a moment for that second of doubt he felt. And of course, they were at the Olympics in Ancient Greece, which was pretty cool. It all seemed safe. After all, as far as he knew, as long as you weren't participating, the ancient Olympics were decently safe.

Now—this Zygon thing? That didn't seem safe. And it really pissed Rory Williams off how Amy jumped up, straight into the battle, turning her back on him once again. It was Amy though. He would take hell for Amy, so he stood up by her side.

"What's a Zygon?" she asked.

"A big red smushy thing," the Doctor said. He was holding… well, a thingy. That was the best Rory could describe it. A thingy. It was, perhaps, not quite as descriptive of big red smushy thing. As he adjusted his thingy, the Doctor said, "Oh, and it's got nice little venom sacs on their tongues so I wouldn't kiss one." He wrinkled his nose. "Ooh, that would not be fun."

"That's lovely. I'll make a note not to kiss any big red smushy alien," Rory said.

"Okay, but if it's a big red smushy thing, how come there's no big red smushy athlete out there?" Amy asked.

"Oh, well, it won't just like to give itself away, will it? No, it's a shapeshifter as well," the Doctor explained. His thingy went ding. Which was about the most ridiculous thought Rory had ever had in his entire life.

"That's essential," Rory said. "For it to be a shapeshifter."

"Who dragged Mr. Negative along?" the Doctor asked, looking up at him. He held his thingy up a bit. "Okay, see this here? It's my timey-wimey detector. If it goes 'ding,' that means there's stuff, and if there's stuff and I'm not paying attention, you'd better tell me. Obviously, there's stuff, so whichever athlete is closest to us when it dings is the Zygon."

"Simple enough. But then how do we get rid of it?" Amy asked.

The Doctor looked at her for a moment. "That, Amy Pond, is an entirely different question that we'll address after we figure out who the big red smushy thing is." He looked at Rory. "Okay, are you fine with competing?"

"Excuse me?" he said. Well, that was the last straw. He was not going to compete.

"Well, obviously I'll get you out of it just in time," the Doctor said, "but I need you to go down there and say you're Greek between events. Chat it up with the athletes. They might try to hurt you, but it's okay. Just ignore them and move onto the next. Find the one that makes my timey-wimey detector go ding, and then wave at me, and I'll come in and say that you're not actually Greek, of course, and that you're just a bit off and we'll all walk away and get rid of the Zygon."

"And what if it goes wrong and I have to compete for real?" Rory said incredulously. He looked to Amy and couldn't believe she wasn't telling the Doctor to go do it himself.

"Well, then, I'll root for you." He looked down at all the athletes. "Besides, this is the first Olympics. After the stadion, they only have one event: the stade."

"Stade?"

"It's a one hundred ninety-two meter footrace. Basically a more competitive repeat of the stadion, since one stade is the length of the stadion. It makes no sense, but they haven't thought much through in the first Olympics, I suppose."

Rory frowned. "Well… why can't you do it?" he snapped.

"Because I'm—well, let's just say I don't think they'd let me participate in the Olympics," the Doctor said, frowning. "So, what do you say?"

"I say—"

"He says yes," Amy said. She looked at Rory with her puppy-dog eyes that he swore did not work on him, but in reality they did because she looked really adorable whenever she tried to do them, and he couldn't say no to Amy when she was being adorable. He really couldn't say no to her normally, so when she was being adorable, there was no thinking about it. "Don't you, Rory?"

Grudgingly, he held his hand out for the timey-wimey detector. "I better not be eaten by a big red smushy thing, and I better not have to run in the Olympics!"

Amy kissed his cheek. "Thank you," she said, grinning.

He walked down to the guy sitting in the big chair. He figured that that was who he should ask to compete. He slid the timey-wimey detector into his pocket as he walked up to him, and tried to conceal the lump in his pocket with his arm. "Excuse me. Excuse me, sir," he said tentatively. The guy ignored him, so he took a step closer and said louder, "Sir?"

"The king does not wish to be addressed during the Olympics," one of the guards said. "What is it that you wish to say?"

"Well," Rory said, swallowing, "I'm sorry I was late, but I'm supposed to be—competing, you see…"

The guard raised his eyebrows and the man in the chair looked down in interest. "You do realize the stade is about to begin," the king said. "You've already missed the stadion."

"I know, I'm sorry—"

"And those clothes—what are those clothes? You're not even supposed to be wearing any clothes."

"I'm sorry… Mr. King," Rory said. He wasn't sure what king this was or what he liked to be called. "But if you could just let me go participate—"

"What do you think?" the king asked his guards. "Shall I? Or shall I punish him for messing up our meticulously planned games?"

"Sir, I think we should just let him play—"

The king held up a hand to silence his guard and studied Rory closely. "Very well, I suppose. What is your name?"

"Um… Jeff." He didn't want any angry Greeks to later have a manhunt conducted for any Rory Williamses.

"Well, Jeff, you'd better do well since you got a late start," snapped the king, "and be happy that I'm feeling lenient today."

Rory nodded and ran down to the stadium where the very naked athletes were taking a break between the stadion and the stade. He took the timey-wimey detector out of his pocket and looked at the heap of clothes. They looked like togas, but he was pretty sure that that wasn't what they were called in Greece. Maybe chitons? And… oh, he was sure he knew the name of the other piece of clothing too… It started with a p… Pallium? No, that was Roman… Himation!

He wasn't going to take his clothes off unless he was sure the Doctor wasn't coming for him, though.

He walked around the very, very naked men and didn't talk to them, but waited for the timey-wimey detector to ding.

"Sorry, who are you?" one of them said. Rory looked up. The timey-wimey detector dinged.

"Jeff. I'm participating. I'm late." Rory's sentences were short. He was sure that the man was eyeing the detector too much. He knew that Rory knew what he was, and Rory was terrified. He knew that Rory knew that he knew Rory knew what he was. That was what scared him most: all the knowing and knowing and re-knowing just led to obvious danger.

"All right, well," the man said, "good luck, Jeff."

Rory nodded and the man turned away. Rory looked in the crowd for the Doctor, and when he saw him, he waved. But the Doctor was talking to Amy, and so neither of them was looking. So he waved more obnoxiously. They still didn't notice.

"What are you doing?" another runner asked. "It's about to start. Unclothe."

Rory's blush was probably evident as he realized that there was no other choice. Gripping the timey-wimey detector, he pulled off his clothing. That included the red shirt with his and Amy's faces together in a heart that he was wearing to his stag party. He threw it near the pile of chitons and himations. He tried looking up at the Doctor and Amy again, but now they had gone from their spot completely.

They had left him.

Angrily he took his clothes off. The athletes were getting into place, and the guards up by the king were yelling for him to hurry. He took off the last of his clothes and feeling very exposed and embarrasses, he set the timey-wimey detector under his shirt and got next to the other very naked athletes and tried not to think about how he was very naked as well.

As the stade began, he realized that it was easier to run with no clothes on. Then he dismissed that thought as he ran through the stade.

He wasn't bad. But he wasn't trained for the Olympics, so of course, compared to the others, he did horrible. He could feel the king's glare burning into his back as he finished behind everyone else. He went over to his clothes to find the timey-wimey detector and the athlete-who-was-actually-a-big-red-smushy-thing gone. He pulled on all of his clothes as he saw Amy and the Doctor approaching him.

"I'm so sorry, Rory…" the Doctor said.

Rory felt anger bubbling up in him. "Yeah, I don't want to hear it. Your timey-whatsit detector is gone."

"What?" the Doctor asked. "Who took it?"

"The Zygon," Rory replied curtly. "I had to run that stupid race naked because you two weren't paying attention when I found him!"

"I'm sorry, Rory. As soon as we knew, we went to argue with the king, but he said you had to run it…" Amy said. "He was really mad, and we didn't want him any angrier."

Rory shook his head. "Well, the Zygon's gone. What do we do now?"

"He'll turn back up," the Doctor said. "Once he realizes what my detector is, he'll come looking for me. Zygons know who I am."

"So what do we do until then?" Amy asked.

The Doctor frowned. "Well, looks like we're spending the night in Greece."