I guess I wanted to use Romana I for something... I haven't really put her in a story before, which is a shame because she's so awesome.

Weird, AU, and slightly crackficcy.

...

Oh, who am I fooling, it's really crackficcy. I hope you enjoy it anyway.

"Romana?" the Doctor called, bouncing through the TARDIS. "Romana? How would you like to go to the beaches of Betelgeuse Five? Pretty water, white sailboats in the harbor...they have a type of dune-dwelling shrub which I think would look quite nice in the TARDIS gar... dens..." He trailed off, jaw dropping.

His companion was standing by the console. Her dark brown hair had been piled up into some sort of ornate arrangement. And she was wearing... she was wearing...

"Red," he muttered faintly.

"Doctor," said Romana, "there's something I wanted to ask you."

"Romana," said the Doctor, "that dress... um... it's a bit... uh... low-cut?"

"Doctor," said Romana, "I think we should get married."

The Doctor's brain gabbled and gibbered. Finally he choked out, "That's preposterous, Romana. Marriage isn't any fun at all, and I should know."

"I think we could make it be fun," she said, smiling in a way that made the Doctor turn quite red.

"You know, you should go put on something a little more... uh... sensible," he said.

"Why? We're going to a beach, aren't we?"

Half an hour later, Romana was regretting her choice of attire. This was because they were on the run from a mob of frothing Zelusians. Apparently the Doctor had committed sacrilege by trying to fix their Holy Light of Lightly Lightness with the sonic screwdriver, an act which had ended with the blasted thing exploding in a shower of pretty sparks. Now Romana was trying to run away without tripping over her ruffles. "Let this be a lesson to you," the Doctor panted.

Romana turned and looked at him. He looked impossibly adorable. His hat had flown off and he was miraculously not tripping on his scarf, which she'd always held to be some sort of superpower. "We should so get married," she told him.

Luckily, at that moment the Zelusians caught up with them and dragged them away, so he was spared trying to find an answer.

Now they were in the clink and due to be executed the next day. Romana considered her next move. Possibly she should seduce the guard, although this would be rather hard seeing as he was a giant spiny lizard. The Doctor's sonic screwdriver had been duly confiscated. Romana rattled the bars a bit, to see if any of them were lose. They weren't.

She looked over at the Doctor, who was fiddling with his scarf.

"You enjoy this sort of thing, don't you," she said in a huff. "Certain death, daring escapes, all of that."

"Why do you think I left Gallifrey?" he asked.

She sighed, and leaned against the bars between them, and took his hand. "Doctor, if we are going to die tomorrow-"

"What?" he asked, very seriously, with none of his usual foppishness.

"You have to promise me something." She looked into his eyes.

"Anything."

"If we do by some miracle survive-"

"Yes?"

She grinned, a very undignified expression for someone of her sophistication. "You have to marry me."

It turned out that the Zelusian's method of execution was to make you walk the plank, with anchors tied to your ankles. "Rather a seafaring people, aren't they?" the Doctor remarked cheerfully, as they were pushed to the edge of a cliff over nice deep water. "Yo ho ho and all that."

"Oh, do shut up," Romana told him.

The Zelusians started yelling at them.

"Oh, all right!" Romana shouted, "just do shut up, will you people?" and hopped over the edge of the boat. Then there was quite a lot of falling, and screaming, and then a loud splash as she hit the water and started to sink. There was another splash nearby. You know, this dress is going to be quite ruined, she informed the Doctor crossly.

Sorry, he replied. I don't think my scarf's going to ever be the same, either. Oh, well- it's one of the blue ones, and I don't like them half as much as the red ones.

I think you're getting confused with jelly babies, Doctor.

You may be right. Oh, I say, how come our telepathy's working so well?

I think it's something to do with the water. Electrolytes, or something.

Ah, of course. You know, we're sort of sinking. We should probably do something about that.

Oh, I daresay when we hit the bottom we'll find something sharp to cut the rope. I do not fancy dragging an anchor all the way back to shore.

It seems to be taking quite a while, though. I say, this water really is jolly deep, isn't it? I do hope the pressure doesn't kill us.

That would just be the perfect ending to a perfect day.

As I think you told me once, sarcasm is an adjustive stress reaction.

Thank you for reminding me, dear. Wait- what are those lights? Doctor- is that the TARDIS?

Oh don't be absurd, Romana- that thing's obviously being piloted, and I'm the only one who can drive the TARDIS.

So that's not the TARDIS, then.

No, of course not.

It does look awfully like the TARDIS, though.

But it's not. It can't be. That would be preposterous.

I think it is the TARDIS, Doctor.

Oh? And why's that?

Because the door's just opened and you're telling us to come in.

Well, I suppose we'd better listen to me, then. Just as well- I didn't really fancy trying to cut through ropes under water anyway. Do you have any idea how hard that is?

Shivering, Romana wrapped herself in a towel the blond girl had just handed her. Her red dress was ruined, wet, and a bit transparent, too, so she was very grateful for the towel. She looked sharply at the blond girl. Cute, she thought. "So you're going to be me?" she said aloud.

"Oh yes," said the girl.

"Hmm. And what number are you?"

"Oh, only two, I've never seen the point in wasting my regenerations like he does."

"Just what I've always said."

They both turned to look at the Doctor. He was, of course, arguing with himself. Romana noted with interest that the blond's Doctor looked rather... well... attractive.

"That's going to be fun," she murmured.

"Oh, yes," said the blond in satisfaction.

Her Doctor, however, was making scathing remarks on the future Doctor's sense of style. "Oh please," Romana muttered. "Like you've ever had any style."

"Actually," said the blond, "number Eight had rather good taste."

"A miracle," said Romana.

"Watch out for Six, though," said the blond. "He'll be rather too fond of that coat of many colors you found in the closet yesterday."

"Yeeech," they said in unison, and giggled.

"I think I like me," said Romana.

"Well, of course," said the blond. "I'm not silly like him, always pretending to hate his other incarnations."

Romana took in her surroundings. "You've changed the desktop theme," she noted.

The blond nodded. "We had a decorator come in," she exlained.

"I like it. White is sooo boring."

"I couldn't agree more."

Romana glanced at the Doctors again, then lowered her voice. "Tell me..." she whispered. "Do we get married?"

Now they were back in the other TARDIS. "Well," said Romana, after she'd gotten changed into something very sensible, "that was... interesting."

The Doctor shook his head sadly. "And I didn't even get my shrub."

"My heart bleeds for you."

"It's too bad, really. I was so looking forward to it."

Romana walked up to him, grabbed his scarf, and started kissing him. Quite creatively, she thought.

"Um," said the Doctor a minute later.

"Yes?" asked Romana nervously.

The Doctor stared at her. "Uh... Romana..."

"Yes?"

"Will you marry me?"