First Love

"You're a thief, Rory Williams," whispered a voice in his ear.

He put an arm around the woman in front of him and pulled her onto the dance floor, bringing his face close to hers. "Why do you say that, Amy Pond?" he asked, his eyes narrowing in mock indignation.

"You took the most important thing I've ever had," she whispered, grinning and grabbing him in a kiss before he could answer.

As they danced, he remembered so many days—the slow summers in Ledworth, the mad dream-life in the Doctor's Tardis, the endless dark of waiting. His story. The story of a plastic soldier who dared to love a princess.

After a long while, when the music slowed and the other dancers melted away, Amy took his face in her hands. "You took my heart, Stupid. You took it a long time ago, and you never gave it back." Rory held her tightly, held her against him so she wouldn't see the tears in his eyes.

Maybe she wasn't a pickpocket after all, that little Scottish girl. She gave just as much as she took. And maybe some stories are different than we think.

Sometimes, he thought, when we least expect it, a plastic soldier can be a hero.

A/N: This is the end. Thank you so much for reviewing and enjoying the story. If you have a minute, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Thanks for being on this journey with me and with these two wonderful characters.