"Doctor!" Amy yelled, looking around her bedroom. "Did you take my mobile again or am I going crazy? I swear I left it on my bed and it isn't here...."
He could hear her voice from down the corridor. Frankly, he could probably hear her voice from down several corridors. That brazen voice with the unmistakable Scottish accent. He’d never forget that voice, not for a moment, not even after centuries. She had that affect on people. Or, well, on him. Maybe it was just him. Could’ve been. Still, though, she was ever present. Even when she wasn’t right in front of him, there was still the odd reminder or two.
As the Doctor headed back down the corridor in the direction of Amy’s room, however, he could hear that particular tone in her voice. A little confused, a little upset, and a little reprehending. He found himself a bit hesitant, but as he rounded the corner and his eyes fell on her, standing just in front of her bed with a slightly bewildered look, the reluctance faded away, a bright grin appeared over his expression in a split second.
Something about her then just made his hearts beat a little faster, a little happier. She was still her, still same old Pond. Though, then again, maybe that was why. Within a moment he had darted in her direction, thrusting his arms out with a devilish grin and instantaneously throwing his arms around her. The pressure drew out a large yelp from one of them, he wasn’t sure which, as either of them lost balance, tumbling down right onto the mattress.
He fell against her with a soft groan, a rough breath of air slipping from his lungs for a moment before he withdrew, pulling an inch or two away from her, still staring at her intently with a grin that had yet to fade. “You called?”
