Inspired by:
1.) post/114371223900
2.) post/114372604350/who-even-thinks-these-will-be-pictures-for-a
3.) post/114374172485/im-not-saying-that-im-considering-writing-wonder
(Sorry, I'm still sort of a newbie and don't know how to link anything.)
So... Consider this dedicated to tinyconfusion and allegoricalrose on tumblr?
If only she meant it, he thinks.
"You know, when people- and I say people, meaning not just your lot, but loads of other planets and species, of course- say, 'Till death do us part,' you, or you know, they never really fully comprehend the whole 'death' part. I mean, yeah, sure, many couples want to be together for... Oh..." the Doctor sighs and eyes Rose briefly through a side glance.
"I don't know," he tugs on his wonky left ear while his face pinches up, and continues in an octave or two higher than normal, "Forever? Maybe? If they want?"
"Yeah, 'cept in our case it's 'In death you will part, unless you marry.'"
That cute little line between Rose's furrowed brows becoming way too intense of an affixation, the Doctor hums to clear his throat and forces himself to look away. Pretending to transfix his gaze amongst the throng of staff rushing about backstage, the Doctor gives a dignified sniff as he shoves his hands in his pockets. It isn't like this is his fault. The TARDIS hasn't been feeling well since a few spare parts picked up at a bazaar on Lakoyp just last week turned out to be very convincing rubbish. That wasn't the Doctor's fault, either. He tells Rose just that.
"Besides, it's not death. We either get married, or we get cold feet. Literally. They freeze us- well, give us frost bite really- starting with the feet, which of course, must be cut off. Well, at least, that's the most likely outcome for me. For you, you'll most likely lose both of your legs. Not the entire things, just most of the way up. Hopefully. Probably. You'd be fine. Not really. And honestly anyways, we could have ended up in worse shows- we HAVE ended up in worse shows!"
Silence descends on the pair, each mentally reliving their own personal hell they had faced down on that dreaded day just over a year ago. Bloody Game Station. They each shiver in turn.
But he is right, of course; this reality show is far better than any they had faced down on Satellite 5. At least the planet Maltocattoi, named after their goddess of love, does not favor death. Well, obviously. For goodness sake, it's a planet dedicated to love!
"Lucky us."
Either missing or ignoring Rose's sarcasm, the Doctor smiles brightly at his compan- wife-to-be. That's right; the TARDIS must have thought herself a flipping comedian to have had landed them on this ridiculous romance planet. In fact, Rose reckons she could bet good money that the more-vibrant-than-usual niggling at the back of her mind that she associates as the TARDIS is actually the time ship laughing. Because what's funnier than making the Doctor go visit her mum with her? Apparently, marrying her! And it just has to be a right laugh to him, this whole thing, if his eager willingness and over enthused attitude towards emCold Feet/em for the past half hour or so are anything to go by.
On Maltocattoi, the planet of love (or so Rose has been trying not to remind every bloody five to ten minutes since she had been indirectly told so), the Maltocattoiians ("Ee-ee-ans?" "Yes, Rose, ee-ee-ans; don't be rude." "But it just doesn't seem right." "Neither does the word 'weird,' but never once have you heard me complain about that being a 'wrong' Earth custom, now have you?" "What 'bout just now?" "The cheek on you, Rose Tyler. I am appalled." "Shu' up,") center their entire lives on love, passion, and romance.
One of their most famous customs, like Earth, involve television shows about marriage and weddings. In the current year of 68,945, the highest grossing show is emCold Feet/em where every month, randomly picked visiting offworlder couples are chosen to have their wedding filmed for the entertainment of the public at large and generously payed for by the planet. If, however, the chosen couple are to refuse the offer or are unable to go through with the wedding planning, they are forced to get cold feet, as in, they will literally have their feet frozen to the point of frostbite being so severe that body parts require amputation and possibly hypothermia for the rest of the body, depending on the species and their endurance. As one can easily predict; most couples go through with the marriages. Most offworlders only visit the planet for their wedding or honeymoon, anyways.
"Ladies, gentlemen, other and none identified genders and beings..."
Rose and the Doctor peered around the curtain offstage, watching and waiting for their cue from Delion, the host of emCold Feet/em, to join him onstage."
"I would like to present the couple of this month... Forteniawsna... The month of devotion..."
Feeling a familiarly cool hand slip into her own, Rose turns her head to look up at the Doctor, who meets her gaze head on with a small smile. He squeezes her hand before she shifts her palm along his, and interlocks their fingers. The twitching at the corners of his lips and the gleam in the Doctor's eyes make Rose's belly fill with butterflies. She can feel every individual wing flap of every metaphorical insect against every inch of the inner lining of her stomach.
Or maybe she is going to throw up.
"Without further ado… For the time being… Doctor John Smith and Rose Tyler."
Despite her nerves, Rose can't help but laugh when the Doctor wraps an arm around her waist and bounces them towards center stage, waving and showing off a brilliantly toothy grin the whole way there.
If only he meant it, she thinks.