It was a cool midsummer's night. Shakespeare had once put pen to paper about a dream on such a night, but for Rory Williams, this seemed like a cruel jest. On what should have been a happy occasion, his mind was conflicting, and making this night more of a mental nightmare rather than anything resembling something as innocent as a dream.
The problem plaguing his mind, was that of his fiancé, Amelia Jessica Pond. Rory quietly smiled to himself; most likely she would have mock slapped him for referring to her like that; she'd long rejected her original name in favour of the simplistic 'Amy'. She thought Amelia was 'too fairytale,' and Amy was most certainly not the kind of woman you would associate with fairytale's.
For Amy had done quite a bit to distance herself from that name, things more extreme than the mere shortening of a name. The career as a kissogram for example, he sighed to himself. Amy had always enjoyed play-acting.
Sometimes he questioned whether she loved him, or the man he was pretending to be…
Thinking back, it wasn't exactly a traditional romance; it wasn't a case of the old 'Love at first sight' trope, nor was it a case of meeting and asking for a date. They had been friends for years, the very foundations of love merely bubbling away beneath them. Indeed, had it not been for Mels, nothing might have even become of it; he had developed a small crush on Amy back then, but he'd always been too shy to really see her in that way. What if it ruined their friendship? It would have at least made things a bit awkward. Hell, Amy's choice of career had ensured it was still quite awkward after the engagement…
He remembered that day fondly, even if her answer had strayed from the norm. Just a bit.
"Amelia Pond… will you marry me?" He had asked.
She had looked shocked, and then somewhat affronted.
"No," she replied flatly, and Rory's heart had skipped a beat. But then a playful grin flashed across her face, "But Amy Pond will…"
Then they had shared their most passionate kiss yet, and it singlehandedly became Rory's favourite moment in all of their relationship.
Well, it would have, had it not been for what happened after said kiss.
"I just don't understand why you don't like being called Amelia… it's a beautiful name!" He had commented over dinner, playfully teasing her.
"Oh, shush stupidface," She'd said light-heartedly. "You sound just like The Doctor," She added, with a sarcastic sigh.
Ah, the Doctor again. Just like that, the moment was ruined for him. Perhaps the worst thing, was that she didn't seem to know what she was doing to him! 'Doctor this, Doctor that'. He'd found himself regularly cursing the name of the Raggedy man.
What of the Doctor himself though? He'd happily flown off in his little blue box, abandoning her. Rory doubted he'd even took any notice of him. In fact, sometimes he questioned whether The Doctor had been some kind of divine punishment, for some bad deed he'd committed it in the past… highly improbable, as he hadn't done anything nasty in his whole life. He'd gone through his whole life wanting to help people, it was the very reason he'd became a nurse!
There was another thing. His name. Rory had always dreamed of being 'Doctor Williams'. He'd dreamt of it regularly – a perfect job, a perfect wife… their perfect child… unfortunately, some of that hadn't quite worked itself out though, and some was yet to work itself out. Still, I will have the perfect wife, so that's a start.
Then along comes The Doctor, his name almost seeming like a cruel taunt to the young nurse. A Doctor of what, exactly? Doctor who? It was a question he'd gone over again and again, yet he couldn't think of anything The Doctor had said in their brief time of meeting, saving the world and sudden abandonment, that might hint at a possible answer.
He downed the rest of his drink, and suddenly had a revelation. Who cares? The Raggedy man was gone; possibly for good, this time. He was getting married in the morning, and his wife-to-be was absolutely smashing. Smashing. He should probably let her know that.
Rory dialled her home phone, but there was no answer; that was a bit disconcerting. He left her a voice mail anyway; she'd just probably gone to a friends, it was hardly the end of the world.
Suddenly, he found himself being pushed by George, one of his mates. Well, he was being pushed by quite a lot of people. A giant cake had just been wheeled in. A stripper? Rory looked around sheepishly; he hadn't quite expected this.
One of his friends gave him a clap on the back. "Come on mate, don't worry about it, just enjoy yerself." He laughed.
You know what? His friend was right. It was his stag night… HIS stag night. His wedding to Amy was literally right around the corner. What could possibly go wrong at this point?

Originally I'd planned to get this out for 'Angels take Manhattan', but starting university unfortunately interrupted; as did my work on my own original piece of creative writing. Figured today, with Series 7:Part 2 starting would be as good a time as any! But still, better late than never, eh? :P
Also, I tried to edit it so it made sense in context to the story; hence why Rory goes from super depressed to happy when he makes the phone call. Alcohol does on occasion do that ;)
Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to leave a review! :)

Note; Bit of shameless self-advertisement here, but if you remotely enjoyed this work, please check out my title 'Ex Vita Abire' by 'L.J Skarpe' on the Kindle store. It would be really helpful if you could, and I'd love you forever and what-not ^_^