So, This story was slated to be posted months ago, but then college got ahead of my editing skills. I really, really want to thank nikkiRA for beta reading this as amazingly as she did! She's brilliant (with her own fanfics, so you should definitely go look at them, because I am in love with the way she writes Amy/Rory) and fantastic. This story is mostly about Amy and Margo generally, though it draws on parallels I see between multiple characters. It's told from Margo's POV. I own nothing; it all belongs to the genius that is Moffat and John Green. Please read and review!

"A paper town for a paper girl," I said to the interior of my silver Honda as I drove down the street, "Hello, Agloe." It sent a small thrill through me, being able to say it out loud. Through the downpour, however, I could barely see the small area that I would be spending the next month in. I could barely even see the road I was driving down.

I hopped out of the car to squelch over to the barn door. I had to practically shove the door so that it opened with a screech of rust. The first thing I notice is the smell; the mildly nauseating smell that spells the death of a building. It is the sort of smell that is not dampened by rain, but highlighted. The smell of decay was also assisted by the smell of death; dead mice scattered the floor of the barn and, in one corner, there was a dead raccoon. I don't mind the smell, although I'm sure the mold here is different than the type in Florida. However, finally getting there, it felt weird. Maybe it was because I expected something magical to happen; I would suddenly become the person I was supposed to be. Not for the first time, I doubted the wisdom of driving here before going on to The Big Apple. In fact, I had a list of pros and cons made. There were far more cons than there were pros; admittedly, there really was only one pro I could think of, but I felt it outweighed all of the cons; "To be my Margo Roth Speigelman, not everybody else's." That seemed more important than the wet, the cold and the smell. It is more important.

I felt a bit disappointed that I hadn't found the General Store yet, because I think that it would satisfy the narrative of my life more if I had. But I am not much of a writer, and besides, narratively satisfying stories don't seem to exist in life. I decided to waste a few more hours inside as the rain beats a rhythm on the roof before I continue down the dirt road.

Then it hit me; I left my car on a dirt road in a thunderstorm. I raced out, flipping out, praying to any deity that could have ever existed that it was not stuck in the mud. The mud clung to my feet, my shoes, and my legs as I waded out to my car. "Shitshitshitshitshit," I yell. I'm sure I can see the car sinking deeper into the mud.

When I finally got inside and coated the driver's side with mud, I gunned the car, hoping that somewhere beneath it is the famous crop of New England: rocks. Some god was apparently listening because the car jerked forwards and sideways as it started to climb out of the muck. I'd left the barn door wide open in my sprint to the car, so I decided to park inside.

However, as I'm carefully inching the car through the door, this…box appears. It is blue, but it is not just blue. It is bluer that any blue I have ever seen before. It is not a sky blue or a navy blue but a blue blue that is the epitome of every single blue. It is the blue that every child expects their blue crayon to produce.

"What." I'm not sure if I've finally gone insane, in the release from all the extreme stress of Orlando or if what I'm seeing is real. A red headed woman raced out the door of the box, which has 'Police Box' on the top. She is followed by two men, one of whom looks slightly ridiculous, and the other who kind of reminds me of Q. Not in the way he looks, but that sort of dorky, adorable walk and look to his face.

"When are we?" The woman asked, in what was clearly a Scottish accent. She was beautiful; the sort of girl guys want and girls want to be. And, from here, behind the steering wheel, I could tell that she was as paper as I was; as paper as I called the entire world on my last night with Q.

The man with the bowtie and suspenders sniffed the air, "Mid-to-late 2000's. New York…Catskills area."

"I thought you said we were going to see the Taj Mahal," the other man said. He glanced over at the car, something the other two hadn't done yet. "Hello?"

I drove the car in out of the rain as the red head walked over. "Who are you?" She asked, sitting on the hood of the car as I put it in park.

"Who are you?" I asked back; I wanted to say, 'I was here first'. I wanted to tell them to go away. I wanted to be alone.

"I'm the Doctor." The man with the gravity defying hair said with a smile. "This is Amy and her husband Rory."

"Margo. What sort of Doctor?" I asked. I did not have a good relationship with many doctors, especially not the sort of doctors Q's parents were. I had been paraded in front of scores of them, and had come away with different opinions and diagnoses.

"Just the Doctor." He grinned, "Where are we, exactly?"

"Agloe, New York."

"Never heard of that one," He muttered. The other two looked surprised. "Don't give me those looks! You've never heard of it either."

"That's because it's not real," I said, mildly resentful that I had to share my secret. "It's a copyright trap. It's just an intersection and a general store." I paused, and then added, "And, well, a barn, I suppose."

"Then why are you here?" Rory asked. I was once again shocked at how much he reminded me of Q.

"I needed to get away from it all. Everything." I didn't know why I was telling them what I had not told anybody. Amy slid off the hood and walked over to me.

"I know the feeling. Doctor, you two go do some exploring; it'll be good for you. Boy bonding time. You don't get enough of that."

"Amy?" Rory asked.

"We'll be in the ice cream parlor. It's cool. Margo's cool." I was not sure what she was trying to tell them, besides to leave us alone.

The Doctor nodded, "Margo is cool like bowties are cool."

She snorted, "No. Margo is much cooler than bowties ever will be."

"Don't insult the bowtie, Amelia Pond," the man called the Doctor shot back. "Margo, can we use your car?"

Something made me ask, "Have you ever driven one?"

"A few times!" He replied with a grin, "Good, keys are still in the ignition-y thing. Whee!"

"He can't be serious."

"Doctor." Rory stepped forward, "Maybe I should drive us out of the barn. It's a bit tricky. And you're scaring Margo."

"I'm not—" He looked at my face, "Probably best not to re-learn driving in a closed area. Rory, you take care of getting us out, will you? And Amy, Margo, we will be back."

"Call if you see any aliens," Amy yelled, as she dragged me to the doors of the police box. "Or get arrested."

"I will not get arrested," the Doctor answered, insulted.

She shot him a doubtful look as she opened the door and stepped inside, pulling me in after.

"Welcome to the TARDIS." She grinned, "Go on. Say it."

I was momentarily distracted from gazing around the room by her comment. "What?"

"You so want to say it. I've never heard anybody say it. Please?" She begged. "He says it's so much fun to hear. What's the first thing you thought when you walked in?" She was almost dancing in place.

"It's…big." She nodded encouragingly, but I wasn't sure what she expected next, "Bit orangey?"

She pouted, "You were supposed to say it's bigger on the inside."

I rolled my eyes, "What, did you?"

She looked put out. "No, and neither did Rory. He said, 'it's basically another dimension.'"

"What did you say?"

"I said…look, he took me out of bed in the middle of the night…I said, 'I'm in my nightie.' And then we went off and saw a space whale." She finished quickly, as if to impress me.

"Ice cream parlor?" I asked, "What did you mean by that?"

"Oh, it's huge inside. Tons of stuff in here; thing is, there's only one TARDIS. Time And Relative Dimensions In Space." Amy grinned, "Rory and I think we've explored everywhere, and then the Doctor pops out of the ceiling and leads us to a whole new place. Finally found the pool though."

"Pool?"

"Olympic sized. Oh, and you should see the wardrobe…But the ice cream parlor is this way. As a rule of thumb, I don't eat anything that isn't labeled." She shivered, "He has some weird flavors. I don't know who invented ketchup and oreo ice cream, but they need to be shot. The Doctor loves it." She gave me a half smile of fondness. "So, what happened?"

"What do you—You know, don't you? Not the exact details. But you know."

She shrugged, "You're like me. I can see it. Look, when I was a seven, a mad man with a blue box closed a crack in my wall and promised to take me away. That sort of thing does something to a girl. One event and your entire person changes." She gave a half smile. "Lucky Rory liked me, honestly. I didn't see him that way for the longest time. I had a crush on the raggedy man. And all along Rory was there, putting up with me, holding me when I broke up with a string of successive boyfriends, and the psychiatrists. Biggest geek I know, though."

"He reminds me a bit of a friend."

"Are you running because of him?"

She couldn't have been any blunter; and I didn't answer as I followed her down another hallway. We were in the large ice cream parlor before I finally said, "Not entirely. Not really."

"What type of ice cream do you want?"

"Mint chocolate chip. Thanks."

"No problem." She replied, smiling up at me. "Anything on top? We've got it all. I'm serious. I think that when he gets bored because Rory and I actually need to sleep, he stops the TARDIS and looks for stuff to add in here."

"Whatever is fine." I sat down at the counter, waiting for her to finish with the ice cream.

When she came back, she sat down next to me holding the ice cream. "So, why are you running?"

"Because…everything, really. Except for Q. I mean, I've been planning to go up here, but I was holding off until I graduated, you know? And then Jase was cheating on me with one of my best friends. So I moved everything up. And I decided to pull a few pranks on them. Catfish for all."

"You gave them all catfish?"

So I told her the entire story, from beginning to end. From finding Robert Joyner to the story in the notebook, to the pranks. And then I told her about Q, who I found myself missing more and more…

"So you like him then?"

"Yeah. He's always been a friend."

"No, I mean like him." She smiled. "And you still ran. Tell you what." She put down her spoon into the empty bowl. "We'll leave these for the Doctor to get. He will, don't worry. He doesn't like to admit it, but he's a bit of a neat freak. And if not, Rory will. So, how about we cut your hair?"

"Why?" I asked, "What's wrong with it?"

"You want to change everything. Plus, if you're living all by yourself out in the middle of nowhere, you don't want to deal with the mess of taking care of hair a lot." Amy shrugged, "That, and I cut mine when I became Amy. It was important. How you look says a lot about who you are, you know?"

"Became Amy?"

"I'd always been poor little Amelia with the imaginary friend. But he didn't come back soon enough. So I became flirty fantastic Amy. I'm not sure if I'm so fantastic, but I try." Her smile was a bit sad. "But sometimes, when I'm alone and in danger, I can hear the little girl who believed in fairytales telling me to believe." I wasn't sure what to say, but then she grinned, "What about choppy bangs? What do you think?"

"Actually, yes. I'd love to." Because she was right. Maybe to be different, I needed to look different.

So we went to what she called, 'The Salon'. Even though, according to her, 1.) It really was just the place the other friends of the Doctor had left their beauty supplies 2.) The title annoyed the Doctor and 3.) She technically wasn't allowed in there anymore.

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him." She pursed her lips. "Besides, River told me to use her stuff. And he doesn't know that."

She sat me down in a chair and told me to close my eyes.

"Have you ever cut hair before?"

"I do Rory's now and then," she replied.

"That doesn't help."

"Trust me, it'll be fine. And besides, if you really don't like it, you'll have a month to grow it out."

"Really doesn't help." I sighed, "Okay. I'll be fine. You're right."

"Tell me about Q," She suggested. "And I'll tell you about Rory."

"He's…he's cute. He's not the sort of person you'd think to be a hero, though. And I wanted him to be. So he became part of the plan. Scare him out of his comfort zone, you know?"

"Yep. Rory needed a bit of that before, but, well, travelling with the Doctor, you can't not do amazing adventure-y stuff." She laughed.

"And the thing is, I don't know what he thinks of me. Not me. I know what he thinks of Margo Roth Speigelman who he met as a kid and became this amazing person, but…"

"Yeah. I know. I was afraid the Doctor didn't want Amy. Afraid he wouldn't come back for me. And Rory…he was around for everything. For the screaming and the fighting and the crying. So I knew he wanted to be with me."

"He hangs out with Bloody Ben and with Radar, but he's also kinda really different from them."

"Bloody Ben. Do I want to know?"

"Not really. It's Becca's fault anyway. Still. He's just…he's not a total geek the way people are total geeks. Radar lives on omnictionary, for example."

"Oh, god, Rory kept trying to get me to help him fix the page on kissograms…"

"What?"

"They go to parties and they kiss people in costumes. They're in costumes, though, not the people. Well. The people could be, I guess, but it never happened to me. And Rory was mainly reading about the universe and stuff."

"I don't even know what he's into, but suddenly he's quoting poetry at me. And then I saw it. He wasn't just the geek of the lower social caste. He was a person. Not a thing."

"Yeah." She said, "There. Done."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'm not professional or anything." She spun the chair around, "What do you think?"

It was shorter, certainly. Choppy, certainly. Not what I'd been imagining, though. "It's supposed to look…messy?"

"Yeah. Saves time." She grinned. "You don't like it. That's okay. Come on. Let's go get the boys."

"It's not that I don't—" I tried to reply.

"Yes it is. Don't worry. Like I said, a month to grow it out. By the way, what are you going to do in that month?"

"Read. Write. Think. Think some more."

"Sounds like a plan," she replied. "Listen, rules of the road. Don't love those who couldn't care less, care less about those who don't care at all and trust your instincts on guys. Friends are better than guys, but guy friends are amazing." She stopped at the console room, and looked at a grainy screen like the old style televisions. "OI! STOP TRYING TO EAVESDROP!"

The Doctor entered the room, "Who said we were eavesdropping?"

"Doctor, you just came racing in through the door. You were eavesdropping."

Rory followed, his hands held up. I wondered if that was how Q would respond to being caught. "I tried to stop him."

She made a noise like a snort. "Yeah. With your ear against the door."

"I should go. Has the rain stopped?"

"Mostly. There's a building down the way a bit." Rory answered. "Here are your keys."

"You could stay." The Doctor offered. "Travel with us a bit. See the universe."

I could. But this paper girl does not need to be waving around in the wind like Amy, chasing the next adventure. It is a nice dream, to be running around after every passing whimsy, though.

"I know. Thank you. But no," I smiled.

"I'll give you a gift then. What to give…no spoilers…" He grinned suddenly and sprinted off down a hall.

"I like your hair," Rory offered. "Looks nice. Adds dimension."

"Thanks," I said.

"I'm still training him." Amy gave him a peck on the cheek. "He's learning, but it's slow. I think it's built into guys. They really can't compliment properly. Nice."

"You love me."

"Yes, I do stupid face. But that doesn't change anything."

The Doctor came racing back in.

"These!" He held out two books. "Don't know if you have them. Emily Dickinson and Walt Whitman. Brilliant poets. Insightful."

"I have Leaves of Grass at home," I replied, "But I don't plan on going back."

"So, take them. Book marked a few poems too, on the TARDIS's suggestion. She's so clever." He put them in my arms. "In one of them is the phone number to the TARDIS. I can't promise I'll get it, but I promise I will come."

"Okay." I nodded, and said, "Thank you Doctor. And thank you Amy. And, yeah, thanks for keeping my car from being totaled, Rory."

"Glad to be of service." He gave me a mock salute.

"I would not have totaled your car!" The Doctor replied. "Small bumps and cracks maybe. I'm only a few hundred years out of practice."

I took a step out the door and waved good bye with my free hand, and went to sit in my car. They were talking before I had even closed the door.

"So, no aliens?"

"None. New York is so boring."

I went to my car and placed the books down, but the Emily Dickinson collection fell open to a page.

I'm nobody! Who are you?

Are you a nobody too?

There's a pair of us; don't tell!

They'd banish us, you know.

I pulled the book into my lap and turned off the car.

How dreary to be somebody!

How public, like a frog

To tell your name the livelong day

To an admiring bog!

A noise disturbed my fascination; as I glanced up, the TARDIS disappeared, as though it had never been there.

Poem by Emily Dickinson. Don't own that either. Thank you for reading, thank you again to nikkiRA, and please review!