Gold-Flecked Moss

A month or so later, a September Saturday stolen from early June dawned bright and clear. The tabloids all proclaimed it a fairy-tale day, custom-made for a fairy-tale wedding: the union of the mysterious adopted daughter of the legendary Pete Tyler to her equally-mysterious fiancé, of whose existence prior to two months before no trace had ever been found. The paparazzi were circling in helicopters a good two miles away from the Tyler mansion, baffled that the machines refused to come any closer – Rose was taking rare advantage of her position by enforcing the temporary no-fly zone electronically, with the help of one of the Dottore's little toys. I really am going to have to give that to the Crown, now – Lord Cutler is going to be furious at my using it first. Well, I was testing it, wasn't I?

The mansion had been scrubbed within an inch of its life, and festooned everywhere with ribbons and blossoms of every kind, all white and pink, the colors of the day. The eighty-odd guests, all from Torchwood or Pete and Jackie's close friends, began arriving mid-morning, greeted by the Honorable Justice Harold Wright, one of the latter category, who – in addition to officiating at the ceremony – was acting as host for the day. Pete had abdicated his host duties in order to help Jake ride herd on Corin, who was doing his level best to put a new picture in the dictionary under "manic". Rose had been forced to block him out just after breakfast to keep his constant telepathic chatter from driving her mental, sending him a quick apology first on their private link. He understood, and didn't take it personally, letting Pete and Jake take him down to the basement gym and spar with him for a couple of hours before showering and donning his new tux for the ceremony.

Rose was sitting upstairs at the dressing table, finishing her makeup while Jackie put the final touches on her hair. "You mean you and Corin don't know what each other is going to say?" asked her Mum.

"No, we decided to keep our parts secret till we say them." It hadn't been easy, with the telepathic link, but they'd managed it. Corin had told her the "formula" used at the bonding celebration, and they'd each adapted and incorporated it into their vows. Neither had they told anyone else about the life bond, deciding to keep it to themselves.

Another secret would soon be told, but not just yet. Rose smiled to herself, mentally cradling the memory. Just two evenings before, Corin had been lying with his head on her shoulder after making sweet love, when suddenly he raised his head and gave her a startled look, then moved down and placed his ear on her abdomen. A long, listening moment, then he had looked at her again with such tender, joyous astonishment that she hadn't needed telepathy to read his meaning. "A baby?" she'd whispered, incredulous. All he could do was nod his head.

She looked over at the bed, where his garland was laying on some tissue paper. They had made the garlands themselves the previous evening out in the garden, keeping them fresh in the fridge overnight. Hers, waiting in the room he was changing clothes in, was made from pink bougainvillea, Corin having declared that those flowers resembled one that grew everywhere on Gallifrey. His, of course, was braided from several green shoots from the huge weeping willow that grew by the pond. She smiled again, remembering the look of bittersweet nostalgia on his face the first time he'd seen the tree, moving to stand underneath it, drawing the long vines through his hands and gazing almost reverentially up into its crown. He'd stayed there for hours, lost in memory.

"There," said Jackie, several notes of satisfaction and pride echoing in her voice. Rose's hair had been done in the requested upsweep, just a few sprigs of baby's breath tucked in here and there, waiting for the bougainvillea crown.

"It's perfect, Mum." She got up and hugged Jackie, and they held each other close for several minutes. "Thank you. For everything. Now don't you start crying now! You'll ruin your makeup!"

Managing to hold back the tears, they moved to put on her gown. Eschewing tradition and current fashion both, they had had a skilled seamstress sew one of Rose's own elegantly simple design – white lace over rose-pink satin, with a deep V neck and a full, floor-length skirt flowing in clean lines from the high waist, with medieval-style trumpet sleeves of lace alone, hanging from her shoulders clear to her knees.

Studying her reflection in the mirror, turning this way and that to make sure everything was perfect, Rose caught her mother's questioning eyes and turned to her. "What?"

"I was just wondering... Now, don't be mad at me, darling, it's my job as your mother. Are you sure – really sure – that you're ready for this? That you're over... him?"

"The Doctor? Mum, Corin is the Doctor – all the best parts of him. And more." She stopped, struggling to put into words what she had come to realize in her heart over the past two months. "His new human side made him... accessible. And mine. The alien part, the part I could never reach, never hold, never understand – that's the part that left. The best parts stayed. The best man stayed, like I said on the plane. Yes, Mum, I'm sure. I'm more sure of Corin – of me and Corin – than I have ever been of anything."

^..^

At last the hour arrived. Judge Wright shepherded the guests out the back door onto the flower-bedecked terrace, bringing them into a deep informal circle standing around him in the sunshine, and then shooed two corridors open leading to either end of the house. Corin, with Pete and Jake trailing behind, came out a small door at one end, while Rose, with Jackie and Marcie, came out the other, and they walked towards each other to meet at the center before the Judge, garlands in hand.

The moment his eyes found his bride, all coherent thought left Corin. Never in his long life had he seen anything – anyone – more beautiful. He'd surprised himself with his reaction to this human ceremony; he would have thought all his focus would have been on the life bonding, and this little bit of flummery be inconsequential and annoying, but instead, he found it had taken on as much meaning to him as it did to any Earth man. "Knowing what's between us is one thing – one important, beautiful thing," she'd told him, and she was right. "Saying it to the world, and having the world recognize us as being together, legally and socially, is something altogether different. And I want both." And so, he found, did he.

Rose reached up and carefully placed his garland of willow leaves on his head, then brought her hands down slowly, caressing his cheeks along the way. Removing the mental block, she sent him a wave of love and tenderness. My king, my love.

He returned both actions and thoughts, and then took both her hands in his, and stood simply staring at her, all the world forgotten, for several long moments – until Pete poked him in the ribs, and he came to, giving his head a quick shake. "Um. Words. English. Right." A ripple of laughter ran through the onlookers, as he shook his head again and tried to find the words he'd memorized.

Speaking only to her (though loud enough for all to hear), he began. "Rose, you and I alone know what each of us has been through just to get here. The day I lost you – I thought forever – part of me died. And for three long years, I was only half alive. Then, the night I turned and saw you again, at the other end of that street, smiling that supernova smile – " She gave it to him, then, and he said, quickly, "that's the one" to another ripple of laughter. " – that night I came to life again. And I swore, then and there, that I would never lose that feeling again. And I never will." Only Rose heard the slightest emphasis on that last "I", and she gave his hands a tiny squeeze. Squeezing back, he began the Gallifreyan formula, speaking the old familiar words in the new language, imbuing them with all the meaning his heart held. "Because my heart has chosen you as the companion of my life, and I here give notice to the Universe that from this day forth, we two are as one. I will match my step to yours, and walk beside you all my days, meeting joyfully all that this life brings, until the day I breathe my last, and with it, whisper your name to the stars."

A small sigh went though the watching crowd. Rose caught her breath, blinking back tears, and began, "Corin, I..." She stopped, floored by a rush of tangled emotions evoked by his words and the love he'd been sending to her along their link. On impulse, she jettisoned the careful vows of love and fidelity that she'd written, and simply answered him from her heart.

"I died that day, too – and the day on the beach, when all you could send was your image. And for three years I thought of nothing but somehow finding my way back to you. And when I finally did, when I saw you on that street, and my heart started beating again, I made the same promise that you did, that I would never lose you again. Never. And I never will. For my heart chose you a long time ago as the companion of my life. And I, too, give notice to the world that from this day forth, we two are one. I will stand beside you always, meeting all that life will bring, until the day I breathe my last, and with it, whisper your name."

And then, smiling through her tears, she took another breath, and began their rewritten Danae-D'Herada, and he answered, taking turns starting and finishing each couplet.

"One for joy"

"And one for sorrow
One for today"

"And one for tomorrow
One for laughter"

"And one for tears
One for seconds"

"And one for years
One for heat"

"And one for cold
One for young"

"And one for old
One for reaping"

"And one for sowing
One for feeling"

"And one for knowing
One earth below"

"And one star above
One for friendship"

"And one for love
Without each other"

"There is none
For one is two"

"And two are one." They said the last line together, and stood, smiling at each other, as if no one else existed in the Universe. And maybe, for just the tiniest instant, no one did.

A louder ripple of sighs and aww's and scattered bits of applause came from their circle of friends, reminding them that they weren't alone, after all. After another moment, they both turned and looked towards Judge Wright, standing by. He looked concernedly back and forth at them for a few beats, then asked Corin, "You don't seriously expect me to top that, do you?", and everyone laughed.

"No," replied Corin, cheerfully. "Just the traditional vows, if you please."

"Whew!" said the Judge, pretending relief. "Then do you, Corin, take this woman, Rose, to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to love, comfort, and honor her always, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to her for so long as you both shall live?"

"I do," came the reply.

"And do you, Rose, take this man, Corin, to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to love, comfort, and honor him always, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to him for so long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

Judge Wright took the rings from Pete's safekeeping, and handed the slender one to Corin, who placed it on Rose's left hand, and began to repeat: "With this ring, I thee wed, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, until we are parted only by death." And Rose took Corin's wider ring from the Judge and placed it on his left hand, repeating the same vows.

"Corin and Rose, having pledged yourselves to one another by the exchange of rings, and the declaration of your sacred vows, in the presence of this company I now pronounce that you are husband and wife, and ask that you seal this joyful union with a kiss."

Husband and wife. The words rang in Rose's head, seeming to sum up all her struggle, all her pain, all her newfound joy and love and passion for this man that she had run so far, and fought so hard, to find. For it was, truly, Corin that she had sought. She came into his arms and met his lips with hers, telling him with her actions and her mind that she was truly, completely his.

And somewhere deep inside her heart, far beneath the surface, a wooden blue door closed forever.