-Wedding Crashers-

Rewind

A few hours earlier…

The hotel was a large stately home in a rural stretch of Middlesex, a stone's throw outside of Greater London. A large and picturesque building, it was surrounded by a forest closed off from public access. There were no roads, there was hardly a single footpath, but nevertheless, a bright blue, Volkswagen camper van from the 1960s had found its way between the trees. Its windows frosted over, matching the white-walled tyres, it was a very strange thing to stumble across in the woods.

Inside, Clara Oswald was still sleeping as the clock drew on for eleven in the morning, while the Alpha Twelfth Doctor – or Cosmic Doctor, depending on your persuasion – was lying on her back on the fold-out mattress with her eyes glued to the cream-coloured ceiling. It was stained, she thought from cigarettes. Not Clara's cigarettes, Clara didn't smoke in the van, but it was a very old vehicle and had accumulated many quirks like that. The Doctor thought it gave it character. In the cab at the front a small sphere, no bigger than an orange, was floating and glowing faintly; it was a portable heater from the future she'd dug out of the TARDIS to keep in the van, in case they ever actually used it for camping. This was its second outing for its intended purpose, after a disastrous weekend in St. Ives where it had rained the entire time.

Even with the heater, it still wasn't a great place to be. She liked the portability of it, it reminded her of the TARDIS in the smallest possible way, but she didn't like that it smelled of damp. The smell of damp did mingle with the smell of Clara, which was sweet and pleasant, but it was still damp. The Doctor sighed. Clara made a noise next to her, then cleared her throat.

"Are you awake?" the Doctor asked.

"Barely." She pulled herself a little bit closer under the very thick duvet they had acquired for the prospective cold nights in the van. "Time's it?"

"Nearly eleven."

"What time was the wedding, again?"

"One. So you should probably be waking up. Not to rush you, or anything." Clara yawned.

"It's fine. It's not like I have to make myself presentable since we're sneaking around." The Doctor didn't say anything. "What's the weather today?"

"Cold and clear. Icy. Christmas soon."

"Our Christmas, too."

"Mm…" she agreed absently, still staring at the ceiling. Clara blinked and rubbed her eyes, trying to wake up properly. She pushed herself up on her elbow.

"What's up?"

She sighed, "Nothing, nothing…" Clara prodded her in the side.

"Come on," she entreated, "Something's bothering you. I can tell."

"I'm just thinking about today, that's all. I'm trying to remember exactly what happens, when it happens, how it happens…"

"Won't do you much good," said Clara, "We're going to be in a different place, doing something else. And don't…"

"Don't what? Give myself a headache?" she retorted. Always sensitive about her damaged memory. Clara had to walk on eggshells whenever it came up.

"Well, which bits are you thinking about? I've got memories of my own."

"I don't really like being here, that's all."

"In the van?"

"In the past. After the last time. It was awful."

"This isn't the same. I'm here now," Clara said softly, "And we're not… we're happy again."

"I know that, I just liked putting this behind us. It's like you said when I came home, for such a long time, it's felt like there were four of us. And I thought we were finally away from that, but… and I've got to be liaising later, without you."

"I will not be far away at all, okay? We'll be apart for an hour at most, not weeks on end with no communication. I'll be waiting in the woods for you to come running back into my arms."

"It's you who runs into my arms."

"Since when?" she joked. The Doctor didn't say anything. Clara lay back down at her side and touched her cheek. "Y'know, this would be way easier if you would just get a phone. Then I could just text you naughty pictures whenever you get lonely."

"I don't want any pictures," she scoffed. "You should not need to hoard nudes of a woman you're married to. It's incriminating."

Clara laughed, "It's not illegal. I would consent to the pictures."

"It's a dirty business."

"Business? Who're you flogging them to?"

"You'd probably buy them."

"Why would I buy my own nudes?"

"You're arrogant."

"I shan't be taking any if that's the attitude you have."

"The image of you naked is something I'll never forget. Even when I do have… lapses, about who you are, I've still always got the nagging feeling that I'd recognise you better without any clothes on."

"You absolute cad," Clara elbowed her jokingly. She smirked. "You should just be grateful we actually don't have to attend this thing twice. Not properly."

"Oh, I am. It's a complete waste of time. Rose Tyler spends more time sleeping in our spare room than she does with her husband," the Doctor complained. Rose was staying in their house right then, while they were away sorting out some old business in the past. "Why don't we just call it Rose's room and be done with it?"

"Everybody stays in that room, sweetheart."

"We're not a hotel," she grumbled. Clara smiled slightly, surprised.

"I didn't realise that you, the Doctor, always so keen to abduct people into your little box-"

"It's not little."

"-were so opposed to having people over to stay at our house."

"I'm fine with people staying, it's just she's… she's mean to you! She always has been."

"She's kidding," said Clara, "She's just lonely. Besides, I think you say worse things about me than Rose does."

"I've never meant them, though, and if you ever thought I did I would stop right away. You're the centre of my world, you know that." Clara was briefly debating whether or not she should kiss her wife when her phone began to ring next to her.

"Always with the bloody interruptions…" she muttered, reaching over the Doctor to pick it up from the cabinet running along the narrow wall of the van interior. Their bed took up most of the space, made of folded down seats. "It's Matts. Could you do me a tea while I talk to her?"

"Sure, sure…" the Doctor sat up to dig out the electric travel kettle as Clara crawled to the bottom of the bed to climb down. Her phone still ringing in her hand, she pushed open the side door of the van and sat down on the floor, exposing herself – still in her pyjamas – to the freezing, December air. She accepted the call.

"Hey, Matts," she said, dragging a blanket from the top of the bed and wrapping it around her shoulders. Behind her, the Doctor filled the kettle with water from their storage tank. "How's your morning going?"

"It's fine," said Matilda.

"Have you had breakfast?"

"I'm not very hungry… have you seen anyone?"

Clara sighed, "No. Nobody. We've been hiding in the woods, well away from all the action."

"It's still not fair. You two are hanging around your past selves-" She had just called to argue with Clara about this again, unable to let the matter rest. But Clara couldn't blame her.

"Well, we would let you hang around with your past self, sweetheart, but you're an embryo, so I don't think you'd be very good conversation. No offence."

"Embryos have nothing interesting to say, in my experience," said the Doctor.

"Did you hear that?"

"Yes."

"Well, there you go. Talk to yourself in the mirror." But that wasn't at all what it was about, and they all knew it. "I'm serious, we haven't seen anybody. And we're not supposed to, either. Well, I won't. She has a few messages to deliver, to assure future events happen."

"What future events?"

"Us coming back here to this nightmare at all…"

"What are you going to do, then? If she has to go do that?"

"Touch herself, probably," the Doctor muttered. Mattie heard this and laughed a little.

"Excuse you, I'm talking to a child here. You'll get put on the register at that rate," Clara snapped.

"I'm not a child, I'm fifty."

"Well, I will not be touching myself, for the record," Clara said, mostly to the Doctor, "I've got books to read."

"You're not worried about your Playboys getting damp out here?" the Doctor continued to make fun of her.

"And here you say Rose is mean to me. The hypocrisy alone is grounds for a bloody divorce. Carry on with that kettle, don't speak to me anymore," Clara grumbled. The Doctor sniggered to herself. "How is Rose, anyway?"

"Just a bit mopey," said Mattie, "She's watching TV and wondering whether anyone will notice if she cooks the bacon in the fridge." Down the line, Clara heard Rose shout something unintelligible.

"Can Rose have the bacon in the fridge?" Clara asked the Doctor, who was in charge of all their food.

"At her own risk. It went off yesterday."

"The Doctor says she can have the bacon, but it did go off yesterday," Clara repeated. Then Mattie repeated this word for word to Rose herself, lurking in the next room, all the way back in Brighton in what presently felt like the distant future. She was missing it already. "Put her on, actually, if you don't mind."

"What if I do mind?" Mattie countered. Clara didn't say anything, just waited. "Fine. But I'll know if you start talking about me."

"Why would we talk about you? Have you done anything particularly interesting?" Clara joked. Mattie made a noise of irritation, and Clara heard a fumble as the phone was handed over to Rose.

"What do you want?"

"Hello to you, too. As you sit in my house and steal my bacon."

"Is that a euphemism?"

"Do you want it to be a euphemism?" The Doctor threw a pillow at the back of her head. Clara glared at her.

"Don't be a twat, Clara," said Rose.

"Don't think I deserve this kind of treatment, especially not when I'm forcing myself to attend your godawful wedding twice in one lifetime. Even you didn't want to come."

"Ha, ha, you're hilarious. Now tell me what you want."

"Check if Mattie's okay. I know she's upset about us leaving her behind."

"Well, of course she is, who wouldn't be?"

"Is she alright, though?"

"She's fine," said Rose, "She's glaring at me right now, but apart from that, she's fine. What are you even doing going back there, anyway?"

"We got a message to go and investigate the cellar."

"A message from who?"

"Ourselves. The Doctor now told the Doctor then. Of course, I was nowhere to be seen," she grumbled. Rose didn't say anything. "Just keep an eye on her."

"She's my goddaughter," Rose reminded her. She loved to point that out. "When are you coming back?"

Clara paused, then turned to address her wife, "When are we going home? Rose wants to know."

"Late tonight or tomorrow morning, I guess. Unless you want to stay for longer?"

"And have Rose eat all of our food? No thanks." She returned to the phone. "The Doctor says tonight or tomorrow morning. Don't wait up, in either case."

"Can I get a takeaway?"

"Yes, fine… Nothing unreasonable, though. What does your husband think about us taking a second run at this wedding, anyway?"

"I don't know. I haven't mentioned it."

"Bodes well."

"Keep your nose out of my marriage."

"Whatever you like. Put Mattie back on, please?" Clara heard Rose sigh and there were another few seconds of shouting and fumbling, Rose announcing that she would be in the kitchen pilfering their bacon should anybody want her. "Are you having fun with Rose, then?"

"It's fine, why?" Mattie sounded surprised that Clara would ask.

"What're you gonna do today?"

"Why do you always want to know what I'm doing?" Typical teenager.

"I'm just interested."

"Just watch TV probably, I don't know. You wouldn't let me come with you, so… maybe I'll go to Aki's and get some noodles."

"Be careful, if you do."

"Of the noodles?"

"No, just in general. And you don't even want to be here, it's cold and boring. We're not guests. We're just hiding and skulking around. Probably won't even be able to get any free food."

"It's not the free food I'm annoyed about."

"Sweetheart… if you came with us, and you saw them, you wouldn't be able to talk to them. You'd have to stay away and watch. That's a lot harder than being in Brighton today, I promise," said Clara softly. "I'm sorry. I know it's not fair, but it's how things have to be. Rose will tell you as much." The Doctor tapped her on the shoulder and indicated a fresh cup of tea on the side. "I've got to go – did you need anything else?"

"…No. Just called to see if you'd seen anyone, like I said," she mumbled.

"Not a soul. Well, we did see a fox yesterday, but that's it."

"Tell her not to eat the bacon Rose is cooking."

"The Doctor says-"

"I heard her. Why are you fine with Rose eating manky bacon and not me?"

"We like you, we don't want you to get food poisoning. If Rose gets food poisoning it serves her right for being a mooch. She should start paying me rent. Don't tell her I said that, though."

"Why not? Are you scared of her?"

"No. I just don't want to put up with her moaning. I've really got to go, though. We have a schedule to keep to." It took her another minute to get to the point where it was polite to hang-up, and as soon as she did the Doctor handed her the fresh cup of tea and sat down at her side on the floor of the van. Their feet touched the dirt and frost below. "I'm not sure I should be here, to be honest."

"What do you mean?"

"We restrict Matilda from coming because seeing her parents will be far more upsetting than she knows, and here I'm just… and he's in there." She paused for a few moments, the Doctor listening. "And I know it's not the same," Clara resumed after thinking, "Because he's not really gone. But it's still… I don't know how I feel about it. About so much as glimpsing him from a mile away." The Doctor took her hand.

"It means a lot to me that you did come."

Clara managed a smile, "Who else is gonna keep you safe?"

"Oh, I could've found someone else to tag along. Jenny, maybe."

"She misses him too."

"Well, if you see him, all you need to think is that no matter what happens, his future is going to be wonderful, almost every second of it spent with you all the way up until this moment. And he won't even remember the whole drowning thing."

"But I remember it," she said quietly, "I never saw the change. He disappeared below the water, and then he was gone. Gone until we fished you out of the sea, days later. Never got to say goodbye." Again, she stopped to think for a while, the Doctor saying nothing. "Sorry – I don't mean to imply that you're-"

"I know."

"It just would have helped to see it, I suppose…"

"It's okay to let yourself feel things, Coo." Clara shuffled closer and leant her head on the Doctor's shoulder. The Doctor kissed the top of her head. They stayed like that for a while, looking out at the icy trees,

"It's actually a nice day out. Despite the cold."

"The pictures all came out good."

"This was one of the last times we were all together. There's this… then the first Christmas… after that I think it wasn't until Mattie's christening, and then…"

"Her birthdays for a long time. A wedding every now and then. Our third wedding, everybody showed up."

"But not to Jenny's. Not to Oswin's. Always one or two people who wouldn't come."

"That's the way things are, Coo. Everything has its time, and everything ends." She put her mug down on the floor next to her, then began brightly, "But! Let's not think about that. C'mon," she got to her feet, still holding Clara's hand, "We've got some aliens to catch."

AN: Surprise, bitch – I bet you thought you'd seen the last of these two (and this ancient meme.)