The Doctor looked from his retreating, tweed-clad back and back into Amy’s eyes, not particularly liking the look there, but he took a deep breath and scratched at the back of his head. “So. Uh. Breakfast?”
Amy’s lips formed a thin line at his question before moving all the way off the chair she had been sitting on. “I’m not hungry.” Amy said grumpily. “I’m going back to bed.” She all but said he should just leave her alone right now, she was hoping that much would be obvious.
“Pond,” he said with a huff, following her out of the kitchen as she started back towards the bedroom. “It’s rather rude to turn down an offer of somebody making you breakfast, you know.”
70 notes (via apaisleygirl & bow-tied)
“I need a fishing pole with dwarf steel fishing line, Ponds,” the Doctor started, sounding a bit frustrated, “because...
“Oh well you know what?” Amy was getting rather annoyed at this point. “Maybe if you hadn’t thrown the bloody manual...
‘No’ and ‘Probably’ were not words Rory wanted to hear right now. His eyes, or rather the Doctor’s, widened in horror at...