Work Text:
It was just like any other small town.
A bank; a post office; a library; and a church, of course. A small school as well, which had a sign claiming its students’ test scores as the best in Britain. A locally owned grocery store, which boasted fresh local produce delivered daily. Across the street, a similarly local coffee shop, with artwork by local children decorating its walls.
“It’s just like any other small town, Pond,” the Doctor insisted, as they crouched underneath one of the café tables. He pressed the end of a stethoscope to a black tile instead of a white one, only half listening. “You used to live in one, remember?”
“Yeah, except there weren’t great bloody alien termites living underneath my small town,” Amy insisted. “There wasn’t a bloody hive under our coffee shop!”
The Doctor glanced at her sharply. “It isn’t their fault that they crave a hearty Sumatra blend every once in a while, Amelia. That’s what they grew up around—it reminds them of home. And also, keep your voice down, because I am certain that they did not grow up around a shrill Scottish brogue.”
She slapped his arm in huff, then shrieked as one half of the floor beneath her began to give way.
“Just like any other small town, my arse!” she yelped, clutching onto his tweed sleeve. “If this is like any other small town, let’s stick to big cities for next time!”