Work Text:
To be honest, she expected it to happen the first time she put those bloody impossible shoes on. Don’t get her wrong, they are gorgeous; deep red, Louboutin, four and a half inch heels. They look like sex and give her such pseudonyms as ‘hell in high heels’. She absolutely adores them; but walking in them is a challenge, to say the least.
The first time she wears them she is strutting down a smooth, flat tunnel; supposedly on a spaceship. So she manages without any hiccoughs. They allowed her to take them off and dangle them seductively from her fingers when they were filming on the beach. But now they are in ‘Amy’s garden’; supposedly after Amy and Rory’s wedding and she is wearing them again.
A garden, covered in grass, at night, is not the easiest thing to manoeuvre with these beautiful heels.
She says her opening lines; “Did you dance? Well, you always dance at weddings, don’t you?” Hearing his reply; “You tell me.” And then it’s her line again; “Spoilers!” she teases with the raise of an eyebrow and steps forwards, her heel sinking into the earth and toppling her over.
Matt is by her side in seconds, trying to support her on her feet; his hands around her waist.
“I can’t, darling,” she murmurs, wincing in pain.
“Can’t?” he stares at her like he’s a fish out of water.
“Can’t stand on it,” she lifts her leg to cradle her ankle and her other heel begins to sink. “Oh god.” She flails as she loses balance and Matt catches her, holding her ‘wedding’ style and carrying her off set to find a seat.
“Is she alright, Matt?” Steven’s voice carries through the air as he catches up to them.
“Hurt her ankle I think,” he hurriedly pulls the Louboutins off her feet and examines them.
“It’s fine,” Alex waves Matt away, “just twisted it, get me an ice pack and I’ll be good as new in a few minutes.”
“No you won’t,” Matt shakes his head, “it’s swollen already, Alex, you should get that checked out.”
“It’s fine,” she huffs, “I don’t want to make a fuss.”
“No fuss, don’t worry, I’ll take you,” he offers, standing to discuss plans with Steven.
“Take me? Matt, take me where?” she pulls on his tweed jacket to get his attention.
“To hospital.”
“I don’t need...”
“I think you do, Alex,” Steven’s serious eyes cause her alarm.
“A-alright.”
“My car is just out the front,” Matt supplies helpfully.
“Okay Matt, you get her to hospital and keep us updated while we work on some of Karen’s scenes.”
“Will do, boss,” he salutes and Alex rolls her eyes. “Up we get,” he encourages her, helping her out of her chair and onto her good leg.
“I’ll hop,” she says, “you don’t need to...” she squeals as he lifts her into his arms again. “Matt!”
“I am not having you break the other leg as well,” he replies stubbornly.
“It’s not broken,” she sighs, reluctantly wrapping her arms around his neck.
The hospital indeed agree that it is not broken, only badly sprained and suggest she stay off it as much as she can for the next week. They wrap it in bandage and give her some painkillers and let Matt take her home.
He carries Alex into her flat and places her carefully on her sofa before informing Steven of the results.
“You are not keeping me here,” she says adamantly, attempting to get up to hop into the kitchen for a cup of tea.
“You stay right there,” he orders, “I will make you tea.”
“I’m not an invalid, Matt, I can still do things for myself.”
“You are an invalid actually,” he smiles, “you’ve hurt your ankle and cannot put weight on it. Therefore, I shall look after you and carry you everywhere until it is better,” he bops her on the nose and she folds her arms crossly, “and maybe thereafter as well,” he adds before getting to his feet and heading into the kitchen, Alex staring after him, a little lost in his words.
The next morning he carries her into work and insists they only do scenes in which she can sit down. Or, they can make River injured and the Doctor can carry her about everywhere.
They stick with seated scenes.
A few days later Karen and Matt were due to go out together for an evening, but he doesn’t want to leave Alex on her own.
She hobbles along beside them, linking arms with Karen, having repeatedly swatted Matt’s chest, shoulders, anywhere she could reach until he put her down.
“This is ridiculous, Alex,” he whines, “we’ll never even get to the pub at this rate.”
“Well, you could have parked a little closer, darling,” she counters.
“Honestly, you two,” Karen rolls her eyes, “you’re worse than River and the Doctor.”
“It’s her fault,” Matt splutters, “if she weren’t so bloody stubborn.”
“You like my stubbornness,” she quirks an eyebrow as she smirks.
He hums his disagreement under his breath.
“And you are just as stubborn,” she adds. That was a mistake.
“Indeed I am,” he grins in triumph, moving in front of her and lifting her over his shoulder; like a fireman’s carry.
Karen giggles as he strides off towards the pub before galloping after them.
“Put me down,” Alex cries from his shoulder, “Matt, you don’t need to carry me, it’s getting better I promise.”
“Nice pub, this,” Matt comments to Karen, completely ignoring the woman thrashing about under his hold. “You ever been?”
“No,” Karen replies, checking on Alex and laughing.
“Matthew Robert Smith,” she chastises, “You put me down this instant or so help me, I’ll...”
“You’ll what?” he challenges cheekily.
She huffs. “I’ll stop flirting with you.”
Karen snorts in disbelief.
“You couldn’t stop flirting with me if you tried,” he chuckles.
“I could and I will.”
“You couldn’t,” he shakes his head, “it’s inbuilt, you rarely even know you’re doing it.”
“Wanna bet?” she growls.
They reach the pub and he lets her down.
She sticks her tongue out as she limps inside and he swats her on the bum playfully.
After that he insists on carrying her everywhere; to work, from work, to her kitchen, to her bed (she doesn’t mind that if she’s totally honest, although nothing ever happens), to lunch, around the set, out in the evenings, even to the toilets on one occasion (she soon put him right, there).
“Matt, darling,” she sighs as he lifts her in his arms to take her home one night. “It’s been three weeks now. I can walk perfectly fine. Soon there’ll be no need for me to even have legs if you keep carrying me everywhere.” She just gives in to him now, it’s easier than fighting him, but he can’t carry her forever.
“I know,” he stops and looks into her eyes, “but I like carrying you. I thought if I could deny the fact that your leg is better and that you can actually walk and don’t need me anymore, then maybe I could just carry you forever.”
“Darling, I must be rather heavy for you to pick up all the time; especially with your back...”
“You couldn’t be heavy if you tried, Kingston,” he tries to lighten the mood.
She frowns, her arms linked around his neck and he starts walking again. He carries her through the door and places her on her sofa, like always, before standing to make her a cup of tea.
“Matt,” she doesn’t relinquish her arms from around his neck and he kneels before her. “I do still need you,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just don’t need you to carry me.”
“But it’s the only way I feel close to you Alex,” he lifts his hand and tucks a stray curl behind her ear.
Her heart soars as she realises how he feels. She feels the same.
“It doesn’t have to be, darling,” she shakes her head as she looks into his eyes.
He doesn’t seem to understand her meaning and so she takes a leap of faith, pulling him close to her and kissing him.
His eyes are wide, but dark, when she pulls back and she smiles as realisation dawns on him.
“Alex,” he breathes.
“Darling...” she replies before he lifts her in his arms again and walks her down the corridor to her bedroom. “This is the only time you are ever allowed to carry me,” she instructs as he kicks the door open and drops her onto the bed.
“What about carrying you over the threshold on our wedding night?” he suggests as he captures her lips again.
And she giggles in delight.