Doctor Who: After Dark
(Or 'A Guided Tour of a Fangirl's Mind')
Disclaimer: We are but humble fangirls and own nothing but the warped ideas that come from the Big Bags of Weird we fondly refer to as our brains. RTD and Teh Moff, we salute you for doing a more serious job with Doctor Who than we have...
A Little Warning: This fic contains copious amounts of Time Lord slash, sexual references, and randomness in abundance. If any of these things offend you then you're in entirely the wrong place. Our apologies, please feel free to take a cookie before you leave =]
A/N: Just a little note from your authors...none of what you read here should be taken seriously in the slightest (apart from the obvious Time Lord slash but you will have noticed that in Sound of Drums/Last of the Time Lords and End of Time Pt.1 and 2 anyway!). We're hoping to have a chapter upload per week but it might be every two weeks depending on which one of us is responsible for that particular chapter and whether it is being a particular bitch. We love you all and hope you enjoy this!
A/N Take Two: Please remember that reviews make us both happy bunnies and if you do have a go at pressing that purdy li'l button at the bottom of the page, there may be a very pretty Time Lord in it for you!
In which Owen admits to watching chick flicks…
It was one of those days when Murphy's Law really applied; anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. And oh boy, had it! In just a few hours, the carefully planned ceremony in the perfect location with all the important things that a wedding is supposed to have had descended into pure chaos. The ring-bearer had blown a fuse, the bridesmaid dresses didn't match the carpet, one of the bridegrooms had ended up on the run from UNIT operatives, and the other had been stunned, doused in water, and given the kiss of life by an ex-boyfriend. All in all, it had been an eventful morning.
They'd finally found the Master lurking in one of the Torchwood cells with Janet the Weevil (but the Doctor decided not to ask why the Master looked so happy about it), the Doctor had muddled up some vaguely believable excuse about the smell of unfamiliar (or rather all too familiar) aftershave on his clothes, and despite rumours of an alien fleet descending on their doorstep, the wedding was finally underway.
"You've got some explaining to do later, Mister I-Wasn't-Talking-To-Shakespeare-Honest!" the Master hissed as the priest droned on.
"Oh come on, like you weren't giving Casanova the eye!" the Doctor murmured in reply. "Anyway, concentrate. This is our wedding, remember? We only get one of these."
"Hey! How exactly is it my fault that he looks exactly like you? Besides, you never know…one of these days I might find a newer model and I'll get a second wedding…" The Doctor sighed; ignoring his husband-to-be's taunting and trying to focus on what the priest was saying.
"…If anyone here knows of any lawful impediment why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace…"
The whole room took a collective breath but the silence continued and the two Time Lords let out a sigh of relief. The priest was just opening his mouth to continue with the vows when it happened…
There was a small, almost inaudible cough and then the sound of rustling clothing as someone stood up. The priest closed his mouth again, a placid smile on his face, waiting for the objection.
"They can't get married!" the objector pointed out. The Master sighed and slid his hand down his face, as the Doctor turned round, staring incredulously at Owen.
"They can't get married because…urgh…because I love him!" Owen forced the words out, gesturing wildly in the Master's direction, whilst the object of his affections rolled his eyes exasperatedly. The whole room turned and stared at Owen, visibly shocked.
"But Owen," Gwen began, confused, "you're not gay…I mean, I should know since we've been shagging for months…I knew you had an anal fixation but I just thought you liked it a bit…" she trailed off, realising that they were in public and she'd already said too much. "You're not gay." she clarified.
Owen laughed nervously. "Oh, um, did I say that? Sorry…I was, erm, watching 'Four Weddings and a Funeral' last night…chick flicks do strange things to a guy…I meant to say, um, that they can't get married because…because…because they're both, um, aliens…so, uh, yeah…" he finished lamely.
"Ok, so we're alien, what are you gonna do? Call Mulder and Scully?" challenged the Master before turning back to the priest. "Can we just get on with this? Owen is an idiot, no one has any objections and I'd really like to get married now so that I can get away from this crap excuse for a planet…so come on, do your bit…'I now pronounce you husband and…husband', etc, etc…"
"Erm, yes, quite…I now pronounce you husband and-"
The ceiling exploded and two parachuting figures descended on the congregation.
"Hello, old chap! Not too late, are we?"