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“Rory Williams is a bloody git,” Amy said as she stomped into her room, Mels on her heels. She was thirteen years old, finally too old for a babysitter in her aunt’s eyes, and this was her first night of being in her home alone since the night the Doctor landed on her shed. It seemed as though that one event had had her on lockdown for six years, and now she was finally free.
Melody giggled slightly. “I think he’s afraid if he comes over you’ll jump him.”
Amy rolled her eyes. “I don’t like him like that,” she replied. “He’s just a friend.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right. You have your eyes set on someone else,” she said shrewdly. “Heard from him lately?”
“No, which probably makes Sherlock an even bigger git,” she said in exasperation. Sherlock had left for London the year before without really coming back to Leadworth unless he was forced to. He’d pop in to say hello to her, which made her feel special and fueled her ridiculous crush, but then he was gone and she heard nothing from him again until the next visit. “Besides, I’m trying not to like him anymore. I just wish there were other boys than Rory who paid attention to me.”
“I heard Sherlock’s back,” Melody said conversationally, but she had a gleam in her eye.
“Really?” Amy said, her eyes wide and her voice high pitched. “When did you see him? How do you know?” She moved over to Melody. “Tell me now!”
Melody laughed. “Mum said she saw him at the market this morning, getting a pack of smokes.”
“Wonder when he started smoking?” Amy said. “And why in the bloody hell hasn’t he come by to say hello?!?”
Melody looked at her friend and shook her head. “You have a crush bad,” she said. “Newsflash, Amy: you’re thirteen—“
“Almost fourteen,” she said.
“In five months.” Amy glared. “Point is, he’s nineteen. He’s an adult. And all he’s ever going to look at you as is the little girl who he was forced to watch for three years.”
Amy looked at her, and then sighed. “I guess you’re right,” she said gloomily.
“Cheer up, there’s always Prince William if you want an unattainable crush.” The doorbell rang and she watched Amy perk up. “Bet you that’s Rory and he changed his mind.”
“Maybe,” she said, leaving the room with Melody right behind her. They bounded down the stairs, and Amy threw open the door, speaking before she looked. “You better have a good apology, Ror—“ She got a good look at the person on her door. It was not Rory. In fact, it was the other male they’d been talking to, and Amy got red in the face. “Oh. Hello, Sherlock.”
“Amelia,” he said with a slight smile that immediately dissipated as soon as he caught sight of her companion. “Melody,” he added.
“Sherlock,” she said, just a bit on the nasty side.
“Mels,” Amy hissed, turning to look at her. “Be nice.”
“Don’t need to be. He’s never been nice to me,” she said. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”
“I’m sorry,” Amy said, cringing as Melody brushed by. “Did you need something?”
“Your Aunt found out I was in town for the weekend and she asked me to check up on you tonight,” he said.
She rolled her eyes. “God. I’m thirteen. I can take care of myself.”
“I thought you were fourteen,” he said with a frown.
“Five more months,” she replied.
“You’re definitely taller than the last time I saw you,” he replied. “Six months ago?”
She nodded, even though it was actually seven months, three weeks and four days because she actually counted it down on her calendar. “You look thinner.”
“I don’t have home-cooked meals anymore,” he said with a slight shrug.
“Want me to make you something to eat?” she suggested, even though she knew Mels was in the kitchen. Anything to keep him longer.
He shook his head. “No, that’s all right. I’ve found my appetite has decreased lately.”
“Are you sick?” she asked, concerned.
“No, just poor,” he said with a slight shrug.
“Come in and eat then,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Is your mum cooking for you while you’re at home?”
“No,” he said.
“Then this will be your home-cooked meal for the weekend.” She glared at him. “Come in and don’t argue.” An amused expression crossed his face, but he did indeed come inside. “We were going to have breakfast for dinner. Buttermilk pancakes, bacon, sausage…stuff like that.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve had any of that,” he admitted. They went into the kitchen and Melody crossed her arms and glared at him. “I’ll even be nice to your other evening companion.”
“You’d better,” Melody muttered. He sat down next to her as Amy got out all the ingredients and began to cook, bringing both of them into one easy conversation. By the time the food was served Melody was grinning and Sherlock looked just a little more relaxed than normal.
They ate to their fill, and then Sherlock glanced at his watch. “I need to go. Thank you for your hospitality, Amelia.”
“Aunt Sharon’s gone tomorrow too, if you want dinner,” she said.
He shook his head. “I’m going back to London around noon.”
“Oh,” she replied, slightly disappointed.
“Maybe she can make you a lunch to take with you,” Melody suggested, looking at Amy. “Right?” she added with emphasis.
“Yeah! I can make you a lunch,” she said.
He thought about it. “All right I’ll pick it up at 11:30.”
“It’ll be ready,” Amy said with a wide smile. He got up, gave a nod to Melody, and left. As soon as the front door closed behind him Amy turned to Melody wide-eyed. “That was such a good idea.”
“Sometimes I amaze myself,” she said proudly. “You know, around you he’s almost…human.”
“It’s because he likes me,” Amy said.
Melody shook her head. “If you end up around him as an adult, he better watch out. If Rory doesn’t wear you down first.”
Amy scoffed. “Rory doesn’t stand a chance.” Then she brightened. “We should make cookies, and I can give him some.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” Melody said, and with that they began cleaning up and getting the things out for cookies. Amy was in a very good mood. If Melody thought she stood a chance with Sherlock then maybe the crush wasn’t so stupid after all…