Disclaimer: I own neither "Doctor Who" nor "Angel." This fiction was written entirely for the fun of it—no money involved.

A/N: This story takes place sometime during the second season of "Angel." As for "Doctor Who," this story takes place mostly in the second year with the Eleventh Doctor, but had spoilers for the show through the episode "The Angels Take Manhattan."

Some Helpful Advice

"Where are we?" asked Amy, looking around curiously. When the Doctor had told her that he had "to see about some Croglisre aliens," she had expected them to end up some place much weirder. But, as she looked around, she saw nothing unusual or even alarming. They were in a city. A present-day city, give or take ten years.

"The City of Angels," answered the Doctor exuberantly.

"We're in heaven?" asked Rory, trying to get a handle on everything. The constant travel to such vastly different places sometimes left him a bit confused.

"Don't be daft," replied the Doctor. "Los Angeles, California, United States, Earth, Milky Way. It is the year 2000—brilliant year."

"What's so brilliant about it?" asked Amy, looking around. It seemed pretty ordinary if you asked her.

"New millennium," answered the Doctor, his voice full of disbelief at Amy's lack of thought. "Every millennium is something to be celebrated." Then, almost as if responding to the unasked "what else?" question, he continued, "Also, there is a vast array of aliens and demons—or, I should say, non-human, Earth-indigenous species—around. They are practically coming out of the woodwork. Which is why I have to go see about that Croglisre before it hatches. Could be very bad."

"Hatches?" asked Amy, already not liking the sound of this adventure.

"Oh yes," replied the Doctor. "Fairly straight-forward. When the Croglisre hatch, I need to be there to collect them, to make sure they get back to their home-world all right. Plus, someone needs to clean up the eggs and the embryonic fluids from their birth."

"Are they dangerous?" asked Rory.

"They're newborns, Rory," said the Doctor in his most patronizing voice, which sounded quite a bit like his regular voice.

"So, you don't need our help then?" asked Amy, really not wanting to be the one to clean up the "eggs and embryonic fluids."

"I guess not," said the Doctor, a bit confused. Why wouldn't Amy and Rory want to be the Tanto to his Lone Ranger?

"Well, then," said Amy, already leaving and pulling Rory along with her, "I see a club over there. We'll just sit tight until you get back."

"Fine," said the Doctor in a bit of a huff. He thought his obvious annoyance would be enough to change Amy's mind. He was wrong.

The moment Amy dragged Rory into the club, she knew it was not an ordinary club. The clientele of Caritas was decidedly not human. There was some alien over in the corner with green skin, huge tusks, and ten fingers on each hand. There was another alien covered in yellow fur with about twenty eyes. Of course, none of this fazed Amy. She was, after all, a traveler of time and space. She did not think anything could ever beat the weirdness of the Siren nurse aboard that pirate ship—now that was weird. What did faze Amy, however, was the fact that it was a karaoke bar.

"Come on, we're getting out of here," she said to Rory. As she turned around, though, she inadvertently bumped into an alien, who was basically blocking the exit. "Sorry," said Amy hastily, barely even looking at the creature in front of her as she again tried to make her way to the exit.

"No problem, sweet pea, but what's the rush?" asked the alien in a friendly manner. It was then that Amy took a proper look and saw a green alien, with styled hair, red eyes, and little horns; he was wearing a bright purple suit. Although it wasn't her style, she had to admit that he knew how to dress for his unusual complexion.

"Um, I don't think we're meant to be here," said Amy, a bit embarrassed.

"Sure you are, honey," he said, flashing his pearly whites at her. "Why don't you just have a seat, have a drink, have a sing—no pressure. I'm Lorne, the host of Caritas."

"Amy," said Amy shortly, really wishing the Doctor were there.

"And who is this charming fellow with you?"

"I'm Rory, her husband," said Rory, offering his hand at the same time. Amy's eyes widened a bit at his proffered hand, but Lorne merely shook it and then let go.

"What would you darlings like to drink?" asked Lorne pleasantly.

Realizing that she was not going to get out of this, Amy just said "anything" and let herself and her husband be directed toward one of the little tables sprinkled around the club.

In the few hours they spent waiting for the Doctor to return, Amy and Rory had more than their fair share of drinks. They relaxed fairly quickly and grew to like the atmosphere of the club. Although most of the club's occupants were not the best singers, most could carry a tune and it was altogether an enjoyable evening. Also, the booze was top-notch. The moment of truth came, however, when Lorne approached their table and said, "So, Amy, what will you be singing tonight? It seems like you've got some things to get off your chest."

"Oh no, no, no," said Amy, waving her arms and shaking her head as she said it. "I am not singing."

"Come on now, don't be shy. Show these demons what you Scottish girls have … unless you're afraid," urged Lorne, having an inkling that this tack would get the girl up onto the stage, if all else failed.

"I'm not afraid," exclaimed Amy, a bit more loudly than she had intended. The alcohol was certainly playing its part perfectly. She felt a bit warm and daring.

"You seem afraid," said Lorne, maintaining his friendly smile despite the expert wheedling. After all, if he could get that local ensouled vampire to sing in his club, he could get some temperamental Scottish lass to sing.

"OK," said Amy, standing up too quickly and giving herself a head-rush.

"Are you sure about this?" asked Rory, knowing that Amy would never do this if she were sober.

"Yes," said Amy resolutely. Rory just shut his mouth and decided to let his wife make a fool of herself. Perhaps he could even take a video of it on his phone.

"What would you like to sing?" asked Lorne.

"How about … 'For the Longest Time'?" suggested Amy, having no idea what possibly made her choose that song.

"By Billy Joel?" confirmed Lorne.

"Who else has a song called 'For the Longest Time'?" demanded Amy hostilely, the alcohol making her a bit more belligerent than usual. Just a bit though. Amy made her wobbly way up to the stage and began to sing. Lorne had heard worse. He had also certainly heard better though.

Lorne just leaned against the bar and listened. It had been a while since he had had such a complicated customer. She had a lot of emotions running through her and a lot of weird memories. But, after all, he came here from another dimension, so why couldn't she be a time traveler? It wasn't the weirdest thing he had ever encountered. That spot was reserved for the sexually confused demon who was convinced he could make it as a ballet dancer in New York's Lincoln Center despite his four arms.

It wasn't until the final stanza, however, that Lorne was hit with a hot blast of her aura, which carried flashes of her future.

She sang: "I don't care what consequence it brings / I have been a fool for lesser things / I want you so bad, I think you ought to know that / I intend to hold you for the longest time." Lorne was hit with flashes of this woman's future: the pain, the hope, the fear, the love, the despair, the sublime. He saw it all and he was filled with a bittersweet feeling, both envying and pitying Amelia Pond, the girl who waited.

When she finished singing and made to head back to her seat, Lorne stopped her. "What?" she demanded brusquely, her head beginning to pound because of the liquor.

"This is the part of the evening where I give you advice, Cherie," said Lorne.


"It's my thing," demurred Lorne.

"So," said Amy, gesturing with her hand to go ahead.

"Never change," said Lorne. "Keep loving Rory. You two are going to need each other to get through everything coming your way. As long as you two have each other, nothing will ever seem so bad. The girl who waited and the last centurion. Remember, Amelia Pond, he waited, too."

Amy sobered rather quickly as she heard these words. This alien knew more than he could possibly know, but she wasn't getting any alarming vibes from him. "What about the Doctor?" she asked, deciding to trust him until he gave her a reason not to.

"Stay with him," said Lorne simply. "You love the traveling and you love him. You waited too long to sit out of the game now. Just make sure you keep Rory with you. You are going to do amazing things."

"Then why do you look so sad?" asked Amy, feeling tears spring to her eyes for some reason that she could not quite put her finger on.

"You'll have hardships," admitted Lorne honestly. "There will be times when you will consider quitting and will just want for everything to end. Don't let those times destroy you. Stay strong. Because, even though they will be terrible, you will have a good life." After considering if he was revealing too much, Lorne said carefully, "You will grow old with Rory. Things may not end the way you had foreseen when you imagined your life, but you will be happy."

"Will I ever stop traveling?" asked Amy.

"All of life's a journey," said Lorne vaguely.

"So, let me get this straight," said Amy, adding a resolute tilt to her chin, "your advice is to keep traveling with the Doctor and basically to handcuff myself to Rory."

"Well, as I understand it, you do have handcuffs," said Lorne with a smile.

"Well, aren't you cheeky?" said Amy flirtatiously.

Lorne opened his mouth to say something else, but, at that moment, the Doctor wandered into the club and called for Amy and Rory. He was covered in some slime that made Lorne feel like he needed a nice, long shower and maybe a sea-breeze.

As the group left, Amy turned to wave at the odd alien who knew too much. Years later, as she sat in her and Rory's apartment in New York, trapped in the past, she thought back to that day and again wondered how Lorne had known. Without even thinking about it, Amy had drawn strength from Lorne's encourage words throughout her travels with the Doctor. When she and Rory had lost Melody, she had remembered Lorne's words and known that one day she would travel with the Doctor again.

As the Weeping Angel approached her in the graveyard, Amy knew it would be all right. Lorne had told her so. She would grow old with Rory. What more did she need to know?

The End

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