Important NOTE: Just a quick shout out to any readers new to me to let you know that I do not write sex scenes. Something I like to put out there since I know there is a lot of that in the fan fic world so I just want you to know you won't find it here. Innuendo? Absolutely. Flirting? A must when River is around. But nothing more than what you'd find on the show. Enjoy!

For a better look at the cover art check out my deviant art page. Easiest way to find me is to type Lemkin Factor into deviant art search. I'm phoenix-cry there as well.

Doctor Who: Songbird

Chapter One

"Amy?" Rory called in a pitiful voice. "I'm dying..."

"Don't be such a baby." Amy replied from the kitchen.

"I'm serious...save yourself, I can't be helped."

Amy rolled her eyes as she finished heating the chicken broth on the stove top and poured it into two mugs. She brought the mugs into the living room where Rory was bundled up in a heap of blankets surrounded by a flock of discarded tissues. Rory had brought some horrendous bug home from the hospital and had graciously given it to Amy as well. Amy handed Rory one of the mugs and he made a show of the effort it took just to reach up and take the mug.

"I feel like I've been hit by a bus." Rory moaned. "This is some sort of Martian Death Flu."

"It's true what they say," Amy sighed "nurses do make the worst patients."

"That's not how that phrase is really meant to be used. Besides, I'm in real pain here."

"I'm just as sick as you, you don't see me whining." Amy pointed out. "Scoot over."

Rory made space for Amy in the rat nest of blankets that he'd massed on the couch. Amy sipped at the hot broth and winced against her painful sore throat. She would never admit to it out loud in front of Rory but she couldn't remember having a worse cold. She contemplated getting up to take a shower or something knowing that she probably looked just as bad as she felt, but she decided she didn't have the energy for it. Finishing the mug of broth Amy settled into the blankets and closed her eyes. Before she could drift off into a fever induced sleep an all too familiar whirring and grinding sound rang out from the back yard.

"Ugh..." Rory hunkered down further in the blankets "he has the worst timing. I do not have what it takes to cope with the Doctor right now."

Amy didn't respond, but she agreed with Rory, particularly when the Doctor came bounding into the house with his usual exuberance. Rory pulled one of the blankets over his head to hide and Amy seriously considered doing the same. Clearly not picking up on the fact that his travel companions were under the weather the Doctor raced over and stood on the far side of the coffee table littered with cold medicines and tissues that was in front of the couch. He had a glossy piece of paper in his hands that he was clearly excited about.

"Amy!" The Doctor greeted. "You are going to love this. Come along, get up, put on a nice dress, and comb your hair or something, seriously the new style is just not working for you. Yikes. Where's Rory?"

Amy just reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose as her head began to pound. Rory sneezed violently from under the blanket forcing him to surface in search of another tissue.

"Rory." The Doctor smiled. "The matted hair thing works a little better on you."

"Thanks." Rory replied dryly.

"Doctor, it's not a 'new look', we are..."

"It doesn't matter. We should get going, Afterglow rarely announces when she'll be performing so this is a rare chance."

"Afterglow?" Amy questioned.

"Yes!" The Doctor made a little motion as though dancing to some fast beat tune that played in his head. "Miranda Afterglow, beautiful name, and from the chatter one of the most beautiful voices in the Galaxy, I think 'sultry' is actually the phrase used most often. Kind of a jazz influence, as I've told you before I invented jazz, sort of, but that's a different story. Anyway, she's still very 'underground', exclusive to the Golden Nightingale Club, not an easy place to get into, but I've got a plan."

"Afterglow?" Amy repeated.

"That's what I said."

"You know what that means, right?" Rory asked.

"Know what what means?" The Doctor asked confused.

"'Afterglow'."

"It means something?"

"Never mind." Rory shook his head.

"Doctor," Amy sighed "Rory and I can't go anywhere today."

"Don't worry I'll have you two back in time for work, is this Saturday?" The Doctor looked around as if that would tell him what day of the week it was. "I can have you back by Sunday, Monday morning at the latest."

"It's Wendnesday, Doctor."

"Really? Shouldn't you be at the hospital, Rory? You didn't get sacked did you?"

"No." Rory huffed.

"Doctor..." Amy started.

"What?" The Doctor paused and looked over the scene. "Wait a minute..."

Amy just waited while he figured it out. The Doctor furrowed his brow as he took notice of the mess that surrounded the ill pair. Rory sneezed again, blinking his red watery eyes. The Doctor jumped a step back and brought the lapel of his jacket up over his mouth as if that would save him from infection. The glossy page he had been holding fell to the floor falling face down.

"You two are sick? Ugh, Earth, so many germs for just one planet." The Doctor shuddered. "It's a wonder that anything can survive more than ten minutes on this disease factory."

"It's just a cold, Doctor." Amy said defensively. "We'll be fine."

"If you say so." The Doctor said with a hint of doubt. "I'll just go alone, I'll be back later, when you're less contagious."

Amy's only response was a rattling cough and a wet sniff. The Doctor made a face of horror and disgust as he took another step back. Glancing down he noticed the page that he had dropped. Picking up the sheet he flipped it over and flushed slightly as he stared at it.

"What is that?" Amy asked.

"It's the club flyer." The Doctor smiled brightly as he handed it over. "Yowza."

Raising a disapproving eye brow Amy reached out and took the flyer. Looking at the glossy picture Amy instantly understood the Doctor's attraction to the night club and its star singer. The minimalistic design featured a black page with the silhouette of a woman viewed from behind highlighted with a gold glow. She had a dress on that was as black as the rest of the page that scooped down to expose her shoulders and lower back which enhanced her hourglass figure. She was looking back over her shoulder but her face was obscured by shadow. Amy shook her head sadly. Rory leaned over to look at the woman and furrowed his brow.

"Hey, isn't that..." Rory was cut off as Amy elbowed him in the ribs. "Ow!"

"You can keep that," the Doctor offered "I don't really want it back now that you've got your germs on it."

"Enjoy your burlesque show, Doctor." Amy said as she waved him away.

"Oy!" The Doctor protested. "It's not a 'burlesque', it's a jazz club."

"Sure it is."

"You have no appreciation for alien culture."

Amy rolled her eyes and waved the Doctor away again before putting the page down on the coffee table and reaching for another tissue.

"Fine. I'm going." The Doctor announced as though it was his idea to leave. "Do feel better, Ponds."

"We will."

"I have some Temessian Panicure in the TARDIS if you'd like, the side effects can include watery eyes, rash, vertigo, a greening of the skin, oh, and possible speaking in tongues." The Doctor rattled off the dangers casually. "It's very good stuff for a cold or any sickness really. That is if you are not violently allergic to Mandolian Poppy Seeds, which actually now that I think about it, I am. That was not a good week for me, I didn't know it was possible to belch fire, but apparently..."

"Good bye, Doctor." Amy interrupted.

The Doctor nodded and left out the back door. It wasn't long before they heard the TARDIS leaving. Rory reached out and took the flyer off off the coffee table and studied it for a moment.

"Uh..." Rory held up the flyer so Amy could see it again "am I the only one who thinks this is River?"

"That is definitely River."

"Do you think the Doctor knows?"

"He hasn't a clue."