Yeah, so you know how I said I was going to be on hiatus until I made real progress on my novel? Well, I partially lied. I'm counting being twelve pages in as 'real progress'. The reason for this is that I recently I got myself hooked on Doctor Who and couldn't resist writing a story for it. Yes I realize I'm American and have absolutely no idea what I'm doing, taking on something like British sci-fi that's been running since 1963, so please excuse any mistakes.

I would also like to warn you that this is going to end up Amy/Eleven. Don't get me wrong, I love Rory and River, but I think the relationship between Amy and the Eleventh Doctor is just too special not to make anything out of it :)

I'm going to try to update as much as I can, but I am working on my novel at the same time, so bear with me.

Oh and I don't own anything Doctor Who. I may be a writer but I'm nowhere near that brilliant.

"Imagine it, Amelia! The real life Fountain of Youth, and we'll be the first to find it!"

Amy Pond just stared at the Doctor, one eyebrow raised in disbelief. "So you're saying the legend's true, yeah?" She responded.

"Well every legend has a grain of truth somewhere in it. Take Nessie, for instance. Don't believe that rubbish about her being some long-surviving dinosaur, because she wasn't anything other than a starwhale with an unusual attraction to water. Doesn't really matter now, does it, considering she got tired of all the attention one day and soared back up to be with the rest of her lot. And then there's Bigfoot. Interesting fellow, met him quite by accident, we had a bit of a disagreement over me landing the TARDIS in his favorite patch of woods—"

"Doctor!"

"What? Oh, right, sorry. Got a little carried away there. As I was saying, the Fountain of Youth does indeed exist, although very few people who go looking for it actually come across it. It all started a couple millennia ago when two colossal lumps of space rock crashed into each other and sent smaller lumps careening out of a Gallifreyan asteroid belt. One of these rocks found its way across space and hurtled down through Earth's atmosphere as a meteor. Its landing site was somewhere in what is now Florida, more specifically in a natural spring bubbling from the side of a mountain. Apparently the meteor had absorbed a small amount of Time Lord energy while it was in the belt, because ever since then the stories about how those who drank from it were instantly restored to younger days spread like wildfire. And you know how humans are, never happy when they get even one microscopic wrinkle or the odd gray hair. Caused quite an uproar in the Age of Exploration."

Amy's mind was reeling with all this new information. Not that it was a shock or anything; when traveling with the Doctor one learned to just accept mindboggling ideas, even if they seemed completely implausible. "What about that Ponce de Leon character? Didn't he go on some sort of expedition or something to search for it?"

"Please don't remind me of that man, Amy." The Doctor paused his fiddling with the TARDIS console to roll his eyes. "Thought he was so good-looking, made all the senoritas swoon over his little black mustache, and then the second he starts getting a bald spot he jumps on a ship at the first mention of a mystical youth-giving spring. Ridiculous, honestly."

"So you knew him?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. I had the misfortune of running into him one evening during a short visit to Salvaleón de Higüey. He made fun of the pair of Converse I was wearing at the time. Not like it was my fault that that particular regeneration was so fond of them."

Amy glanced at the Doctor, with his unruly bangs flopping into his aged blue eyes and that blasted bow tie—today's being the one she had tried to set free by releasing it somewhere along the Milky Way, but of course he had caught her—and couldn't help but smile. She was sure, if they were to meet Ponce de Leon right then, he would have a thing or two more to say about the Doctor's current wardrobe.

"You know you're hopeless, right, Doctor?"

The Doctor looked up at the ginger-haired girl, his eyes twinkling in amusement. "Of course I do, but better that than a stick in the mud like old Poncey, eh?" He pushed down a lever, and the TARDIS began to shake. Amy laughed and grabbed hold of the edge of the console, reveling in the exhilaration of time travel. It never got old, no matter how many times she did it.

There was a familiar whirring sound, signaling that the TARDIS had landed. Both the Doctor and Amy let go of the console and headed for the door.

"Now we shouldn't have to worry about running into too many fountain-seekers, maybe just the random hostile native tribe. If I got the coordinates right then we should have landed at the base of the mountain thousands of years before the Spaniards set one greedy boot on this soil," the Doctor said as Amy reached for the doorknob.

"Well you've never exactly been one to get your coordinates right the first time, have you? At least not without being off about, oh I don't know, twelve years." Amy said pointedly.

The Doctor sighed. "You women never let anything go, do you?"

"Nope. Especially not the Scottish ones. We have a tendency to hold grudges, sometimes for ages."

"Lucky me."

Amy shot him a triumphant smirk before twisting the knob and pulling it. She stood frozen for a moment, her lively green eyes widening in surprise and her face paling. Then she slammed the door shut and leaned against it.

"What's wrong?" The Doctor asked, extracting his sonic screwdriver from a pocket inside his tweed jacket just in case. He sincerely hoped he hadn't ended up on the planet of Flodira again instead. It was a simple mistake, just a reversal of two of the letters, but those two consonants made all the difference considering Flodira's sulfuric atmosphere had a tendency to suffocate you after a while. If its rather unfriendly molten inhabitants didn't get to you first, that is.

"So we were supposed to have landed 'thousands of years before the Spaniards set one greedy boot on this soil', yeah?"

"That's right," the Doctor replied warily.

"You sure about that?"

"Absolutely. Maybe. Completely possibly. Okay, perhaps there's a slight chance that I may have been a little off. Just a smidge."

"Mhmm." Amy pulled open the door. "Some smidge."

They were at the base of the mountain, alright, but it was by no means devoid of Spaniards. Standing a mere five feet from the doors of the TARDIS, complete with a little black mustache and a Conquistador helmet covering up his bald spot, was Juan Ponce de Leon himself. A collection of soldiers he had brought with him on the journey fanned out behind him.

"We meet once again, Señor Doctor. I was hoping you might drop by," the explorer said with a crooked smile.

The Doctor groaned.