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“Telegram?”
Amy scowled at the man in the RAF coat. “Sorry,” she said. “You must have the wrong house; there aren't any soldiers here.”
“This is the home of Mr. and Mrs. Williams?”
“It's a common name; try down about four blocks.”
“Amelia and Rory Williams?”
The breath caught in Amy's lungs. “Who are you?” Only now did she notice the young woman behind him. “You. No, it can't be you again.” Eyes wide, she ushered the pair inside. “Rooorrrry!”
“What is it, dear?” Rory lowered the newspaper and blinked at their guests. “It's you. Oswin. From that planet with the Daleks.”
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” she said.
“Captain Jack Harkness, by the way.” He grinned. “Mind if we have a seat?”
***
Amy and Rory invited them to stay for dinner, and then drinks. “You say the Doctor sent you?”
“Just wanted to check up on you and see if you wanted to come back with him,” Jack said. “You two must be really something, you know; I wish he'd have done the same for me more often.”
“Would you go?” Rory asked.
“I traveled with him for a decent stretch—he was much younger then, and so was I.” Jack ran fingers through hair just starting to grey. “I don't know that I would. Maybe an adventure or two here or there...but I've more or less settled down now.”
“So have we,” Amy said. “We're thinking of adopting soon.”
“How lovely!” Clara said.
“So you'd be the current companion, then?” Rory asked.
Clara blushed. “I suppose I am.” Rory brought in a plate of cookies from the kitchen, and passed it around as they shared stories from their journeys aboard the TARDIS.
“One left,” Amy said, offering the plate to the others. “Age before beauty,” she says as Clara reaches for it.
“In that case, I should have it.” Jack grins. “I'm older than I look by a couple hundred years,”
“Oh?” Rory asks, more amused than skeptical, and he makes Jack explain about Bad Wolf as Amy holds the plate aloft. “Not bad, but what do you say to two thousand years of memories?” He related his time as the Last Centurion.
“Well, if we're counting memories from other lives,” Clara snapped her fingers and beckoned for the last cookie as she told them of how she leapt into the Doctor's time-stream.
“Well, I'm impressed,” Rory blinked.
“Last I heard, the Doctor was almost 1200 years old,” Amy calculated. “If he had an adventure a week...” She puts on her glasses to scratch out some figures. “There must be over 50,000 of you!” Laughing, she surrendered the plate.
“You aren't jealous, are you?” Clara asked.
“No, not really.” Amy sat back in her armchair. “We've got a good life here, and lots of brilliant adventures with the Doctor.” She smiled. “We just hope you have as good a time.” She cannot hide the tear that trickles down her face.
“You're sure you don't want to take another trip?” Clara giggled in spite of herself. “You're both clearly still fit enough to travel.” And still gorgeous, she thinks.
Amy and Rory exchanged a long look before shaking their heads. “No, but thank you.”
Jack grinned. “Only the best for our friend the Time Lord. Which reminds me: Clara and I should probably deliver the message the Doctor sent with us.” As Amy and Rory looked at them expectantly, Jack leaned over to kiss Amy while Clara gave Rory a healthy snog. Then they traded partners before either of them could react.
“Oh.” Amy managed.
“Blimey.” Rory seconded. “Was there any more to the message?” he asked, face flushed.
“Well, he did want to say that he and River couldn't manage it; they said you'd know why, but that the two of them do think of you quite often,” Clara began. “Were they going on a date when we left them?” she asked Jack.
“Looked like it,” he confirmed. “And he wanted to let you know that he was happy, and hoped you were as well.”
“Not that he's moved on,” Clara quickly added. “Just that he's...recovered.”
“And that if you wanted there to be any...more to the message, then that's fine by us.” Jack and Clara exchanged grins.
“Oh, I am not drunk enough for a foursome. Yet.” Amy rose and brought a bottle of whiskey with a wink. “Give it another hour.”