Hello, everyone. This is my first fanfiction, and I hope you enjoy it. I'm not writing for serious purposes; just trying to have a bit of fun and enjoy a great show. Well, Rory didn't turn out to be the Master in the show, but I thought it would make for an interesting story, so here it is.

Reviews are welcome. -chaconneviola

The first time the Doctor sees Rory, he doesn't really see him. He's impatient, trying to find Prisoner Zero—impatient to the find the patient, that's a good one, he'll have to remember that for sometime nice and relaxing and not in danger; basically sometime not in his lifetime or perhaps none of time at all—and he only sees Rory's cell phone. The cell phone pointed at the man and dog, not at the sun, and he realizes somebody knows about Prisoner Zero. Doesn't matter how. Somebody knows, which means there's a chance. And when he talks to Rory, he's a bit more terse than he needs to be, but he's upset. People have died. Or they're going to die. It's the same thing really, only a bit of time (and that's so easy to cross) between.

"Man and dog. Why?"

Rory blinks—and recognizes him.

"Oh my God, it's him."

Amy tells him to stop, just answer the question, but Rory insists.

"It's him, though. It's the Raggedy Doctor."

"Yeah, he came back," Amy say shortly.

"But he was a story—he was a game—" Rory's looking at the Doctor's face now, but the Doctor doesn't have time to think about it.

"Man and dog. Why? Tell me now!"

"Sorry." Rory looks apologetic. "Because he can't be there. Because he's—"

"—in a hospital, in a coma," they say together.

And then he's got to use the sonic—to fix the sonic—attract the Atraxi (another fun one), try to make Amelia Pond remember him, and honestly, the Doctor doesn't give Rory a second thought.

The next time they meet, the Doctor plays a joke on Rory. It's an old one but a good one—talk to the nice girl who's supposed to jump out of the cake, give her a few pounds and listen to her talk about her kid and her apartment and all that, take her place, surprise!—but Rory doesn't laugh. He looks ill at ease. And then—oops—sometimes the Doctor thinks out loud. He'd blame it on the new body, but it's been a few… time has passed. Funny how you can say something in your head and it sounds fine, but when you say it out loud…

Rory looks puzzled, but more than that. He shakes his head and blinks too much. Like a lost puppy. The Doctor likes him already. He's got on a fashionable shirt too, with a picture of himself and Amy Pond and a heart around it. The Doctor thinks it fits him well.

Almost to the TARDIS, and Rory staggers a little—tipsy, most like—and catches the Doctor's arm.

"I've seen that box before," he says.

"Entirely possible, but come with me," the Doctor says. "We don't want to keep Amy waiting."

And Rory nods a little and follows, a bit more slowly, and his eyes look a bit odd. Distant.

The Doctor hopes Rory isn't sizzled already.

Anyway, the Doctor has a plan. Rory looks too worried and too awkward. Not good. And Amy—well, Amy's a handful. Time to reunite the fiancees.

"Oh, the life out there. It dazzles. I mean, it blinds you to the things that are important. I've seen it devour relationships and plans. It's meant to do that. Because for one person to have seen all that, to taste the glory and go back—" he doesn't remember where he was going with this. It was supposed to be an explanation. And an encouragement? "—it will tear you apart. So I'm sending you somewhere, together."

Rory looks up at that.

"Whoa. What, like a date?" Amy beats him to the punch.

The Doctor smiles.

"Anywhere you want. Any time you want. One condition: it has to be amazing." He reels off his favorites. "The Moulin Rouge in 1890. The first Olympic Games. Think of it as a wedding present, because it's either this or tokens." Rory's still looking around, looking like a lost puppy, or a man in a dream. "It's a lot to take in, isn't it?" the Doctor asks, anticipating. "Tiny box, huge room. What's that about? Let me explain."

"It's another dimension," Rory says easily.

"It's basically another dimension." The Doctor pulls up short. "What?" Rory's not supposed to know that. He's a nurse, not a physicist—no, not even a physicist knows that yet. He's a nurse, not a science fiction writer, not a companion, not an alien, not an Auton—

"After what happened with Prisoner Zero, I've been reading up on all the latest scientific theories," Rory says defensively. "FTL travel, parallel universes…" he trails off.

"I like the bit when someone says it's bigger on the inside. I always look forward to that," the Doctor says, a scowl spreading across his face. Then he remembers—Rory. Amy. The wedding. He smiles and snaps back to thinking about places to go.

"So, this date," Amy interjects. "I'm tired of running down corridors. What do you think, Rory?"

Rory's supposed to be Amy's brother. He's not happy, the Doctor knows. Somehow, the whole date-in-Venice thing is turning out to be a bit of a disaster. The Doctor feels a twinge of regret. Companions.

"I've never… I mean, I've never even been in a play," Rory protests. The Doctor's helping him with his heavy embroidered tunic—Amy's getting ready in the other room—and he can't stand still. He keeps fidgeting.

"Don't worry about it," the Doctor says. "All you've got to do is act natural and show them this." He flashes the psychic paper. "What did it say?"

Rory scowls. The Doctor winces. Rory's listed as a eunuch—unfortunate.

"It doesn't say anything now. What is it, some sort of perception toy? Perception paper. No… that's not it…"

The Doctor stops, whistles.

"You have been reading up on the theories. And… that's odd."

"What?" Rory says, nervous.

"It shouldn't look blank." The Doctor steps in close and looks at him critically. "It should never look blank. Not to you."

Rory blinks, looking confused and rather vague.

"Well, I—I—"

"Well, boys, how do I look?" Amy calls, and they both have to admit, she looks stunning.

"What happened, between you and Amy?"

The Doctor sighs. He's been expecting this, but not looking forward to it.

"Now, you want to do this right now?" he snaps.

"I have a right to know! I'm getting married in four hundred and thirty years!"

The Doctor rolls his eyes, keeps scanning the darkness.

"She was frightened, I was frightened—but we survived, you know, and the relief of it—and so she kissed me."

"And you kissed her back," Rory says accusingly.

"No, I kissed her mouth."

"Funny."

The Doctor stops. Turns to Rory.

"Rory. Rory, she kissed me because I was there. It would have been you. It should have been you."

"Yeah," Rory says resentfully. "It should have been me."

"Exactly." The Doctor flashes a smile. "That's why I brought you here." Danger galore. A cold wind gusts down the tunnel and extinguishes the torch. "Can we go and see the vampires now?"

Rory follows him, but the Doctor can feel the grudge radiating off of him. Unfortunate.

"She's my wife," Rory says in a low voice.

"Not yet," the Doctor can't help putting in.

"She's my wife, and I'll have her if she kills me. Mine." And then Rory stumbles in the dark and almost knocks the Doctor over. "Wait a bit. Doctor. Didn't you—didn't you used to have dark hair?"

The Doctor swing around and almost hits him.

"What?"

"Dark—" the light hits Rory in the face, and he winces and blinks. "They're, they're vampires, yes? Shouldn't they like the dark?"

"No not that. You said something a minute ago, something about my hair."

Rory gets that confused look the Doctor's getting so used to.

"Your hair? Oh yes. Uh… I don't know, I thought it, I thought it should be darker. And you should be, I don't know, taller."

The Doctor stares at him for a moment across the torch light. Rory shakes his head, brow furrowed. The Doctor smiles and claps a hand on his shoulder.

"Jealous much, mate?"

They're back on the TARDIS, Rory holding Amy's hand—happy again—and the Doctor can't get the silence out of his mind. Silence. And cracks in time. He's trying not to remember the last time he saw a crack in time—a crack in the fabric of time, looking through to the vortex. He hopes it isn't the same. He sits haphazard at the console, his back to the lovers, and thinks about the Time War.

God, he hopes it's nothing like that again.