never be lonely anymore
Doctor Who | Eleven/Amy/Rory | PG | ~1,016
Four weddings featuring the Doctor, Amy and Rory. Spoilers for 'The Big Bang.'
A/N: For the schmoop_bingo prompt 'honeymoon'. Short, and sweet like marshmallow.
i.
Amy and Rory get married and remember.
They get married and remember and Amy brings back the Doctor just in time for dancing, and – though it may give an unconventional twist to the phrase – it's the happiest day of their lives.
With the party still going strong they follow the Doctor into the TARDIS and say their goodbyes to the night.
They saved the universe and got their wedding.
Not bad, overall.
ii.
They've just finished saving an entire Tabealean colony from an overgrown and deadly fungus, and the villagers are throwing them a party. Normally the Doctor wouldn't stay around for this part, likes to keep some semblance of mystery, but Amy had begged, and even Rory had looked eager to try out what looked like one heck of a buffet table.
There's music and singing, and Amy makes him dance, laughs as the villagers get them to jump over a log, and maybe the Doctor's had too much of the native Haggleberry juice but it's not until the crowns of twisted leaves are placed on their heads that he realises what's just happened.
"Ah," he says, dropping his hands to his sides and looking at Amy cautiously.
"What?" she asks, and she knows him well enough to look suspicious.
"Well," he says, and lowers his voice so Rory won't hear from where he's chatting with a couple of farmers. "We may have just got married."
Amy blinks, once, twice, and, as her arms begin to move to her waist, the Doctor winces because he knows what's coming -
"What do you mean we just got married?" she shouts, and, yeah, Rory definitely heard that time if the horrified look on his face is anything to go by.
"But," Rory says, striding over, "no. Amy's already married."
"Yeah, that doesn't exactly matter," the Doctor shrugs, and the amused titters coming from around them pretty much hammer home the point.
Rory's looking scandalised, and Amy's looking like she's not sure whether to shout some more or maybe make a comment about him being the next Mister Pond and that validating kissing.
Rory opens his mouth to say something and the Doctor cuts him off to save him the predictability.
"And, no, there's no such thing as divorce on this planet. Oh well. These things happen. Sorry."
Then he makes a dash for it and spends the next two days avoiding them both until they get distracted by a destructive electro-pulse in the Nesvine Galaxy, and, through the use of eyebrow waggling and extreme pouting agree to never talk about it again.
iii.
The next time it really isn't the Doctor's fault.
They're on Gi'Haad, in the days long before the final revolution, and there's an actual dragon (well, okay, an evolved member of the Pentiga family, but dragon sounds so much cooler) breathing fire all over the place and terrorising the very peaceful, very religious members of the High Temple.
Amy rolls her eyes at him as he jumps in at the last minute with a cleverly improvised plan involving a fire extinguisher and a tennis racket, and they're gratefully accepting the goblets of water the elders have provided when Rory storms covered in ash and favouring his left leg.
"What the hell happened to you?" Amy asks, and Rory huffs out a reply about being 'stuck beneath a bloody wall, thanks' before marching forward and grabbing the goblet from the Doctor's hands.
The Doctor reaches out, tries to stop him, but Rory's already taken a sip and that's that.
"What?" he asks when he notices the Doctor's look of horror.
"You know how every planet in the universe has their own traditions?" the Doctor says.
"Right," Rory says, dragging the word out as if waiting for the punch line.
"Well the Gi'Ha have them, too. One in particular involves drinking from someone else's goblet."
Rory furrows his eyebrow, looks around at the faces of the grinning elders and then back at the Doctor.
His face drops.
"Oh bloody hell," he says. "We just got married, didn't we?"
"Little bit, yeah."
There's a noise from behind them, and they both turn to find Amy with her hand against her mouth, eyes glittering.
"Huh," she says.
She looks far too delighted for the Doctor's liking.
iv.
It's the end of the universe.
Again.
They've been running for long enough that their feet are numb, trying to get to the control tower; they don't have a plan, not yet, but pulling off grand, daring rescues at the last second is sort of speciality of his, and the Doctor hopes it won't let him down this time.
Amy's shirt is ripped, and there's an angry cut down her left arm but it doesn't seem to be bleeding too badly. Rory looks worse, his hair matted to his forehead with sweat and blood, but he's still going, still fighting, and the Doctor thinks that has to be a good sign. Hopes to hell he's right.
He doesn't think about his own injuries, they're not important.
"We get out of this," Amy shouts over the roar of machinery, "I'm marrying both of you. There's got to be planet for that!"
They survive.
Just.
There's the clean up to be done, as much as the Doctor's ever willing to deal with anyway, and by the time they fall into the TARDIS they're running on pure adrenaline and sheer will.
Amy catches the Doctor's eye, and he sets the coordinates without a word.
They exchange the ceremonial phrases in front of a frozen waterfall and accept the good will of the natives with bowed heads and small smiles.
They don't talk about it. It's easier that way.
"Where now?" Rory asks when it's over, and he doesn't look upset by any of it, doesn't look like a martyr, and the Doctor's stupidly glad.
"How about a honeymoon?" Amy says, and she's smiling, soft and genuine. "We haven't had one of those yet."
The Doctor grins, and takes both their hands in his, tugging them towards the TARDIS.
"I know just the place."