Sometimes Rory felt like the only turtle in a box of frogs.
There was River, running around, being gorgeous and a genius, breaking out of prison, shooting aliens, dressing up, having a past/future/future/past relationship with a man never knowing if she loves him, is married to him, if she wants to kill him, or just thinks he's cute.
The theoretically cute man is a thousand year old alien in a bowtie and fez, running around breaking into prisons, not shooting aliens, (instead wiping out their worlds, or at least their arsenals) having a future/past/past/future relationship with his daughter, never knowing if he wants to strangle her out of irritation or crow to the world "Look, that's my wife!" Although Rory was pretty sure he thought she was hot. That, or he was a flaming idiot. Well, "penny in the air" as his daughter/best friend/secretly admired role model would say.
Then there was Amy, running around being Amy, mad, wild, brilliant, brave, scary, and generally up for hijinks, lowjinks, and any other jinks she could find.
Sometimes he just wanted to don his armor, strap on his gladius, and demand that they all just behave.
Why was he the only normal one around here?
—
For more stories by this author click on "betawho" at the top of the page.
Please take a moment to leave a review. Thank you.