Title: Doing it for the Edible Ball Bearings
Rating: PG
Genre: Silly...and a little cracky. You've been warned.
Disclaimer: Not mine! Don’t sue!
A/N: Written for the December Picture Prompts on Time and Chips. Picture #1
A/N: Don’t hurt me. Please.
Summary: “I thought that was customary…for the mother not to like her offspring’s choice in mate…”
“You’re well aware that we can’t use this, yes?”
In all of his ten lives, The Doctor never thought he’d be sitting in the TARDIS, face-to-face with his mother, debating wedding invitations.
Ruth (or that was what she was going by these days. He could have sworn her name to be Penelope…something-or-other at some point) crossed her slender arms over her equally slender frame, and tossed her dark hair. “And why not?”
“Because one, and really, most importantly, Rose Tyler is not a two-bit-tramp, and to name her as such on the wedding invitation is beyond uncalled for.”
Ruth quirked an eyebrow.
“And two, and, well, I supposed this equally important; this wedding is not a disaster. It’s a wedding.” The Doctor glanced over the mock-up invitation again. “Also? Rose isn’t allergic to nuts; she’s allergic apricots.”
“Oh.”
He sighed and slumped down onto the jump seat. “I thought you said you liked Rose.”
Ruth frowned. “I do. She’s quite lovely…for a human.”
“You were human once, too, y’know.”
“Well, we’re both aware that I’m not anymore,” Ruth said, walking over and sitting next to her son.
“Right, okay. That still doesn’t excuse this,” the Doctor waved the invitation.
“Well…Jackie doesn’t like you.”
The Doctor frowned.
“I thought that was customary…for the mother not to like her offspring’s choice in mate…”
The Doctor sighed. “Jackie has very specific reasons why she doesn’t like me.”
“Because you’re an alien and there’s a nine-hundred year age gap?”
“Partially.”
Ruth quirked her eyebrow again. “What did you do?”
“I…may have forgot to take Rose home…for a year.”
She said his full, Gallifreyan name in a scolding tone. “What is wrong with you?!”
He cringed. “It was an accident! And, really, it was my ninth self…”
“Still you!”
“I’m sorry!” The Doctor blinked. “Hold on. Why am I saying sorry to you?”
“Because I scolded you,” Ruth replied. “Your father used to do the same thing.”
He sighed heavily. “I’m going to dispose of this before Rose sees it. She’s already running round in circles from all this wedding nonsense. The last thing she needs is to think you hate her.”
“I don’t hate her.”
“Good.” He got up. “I’ll be back.”
Ruth watched him go and sighed, before getting up and following him. “Why do you feel the need to get married in the first place? It will only be legal on this planet, and it isn’t as if ‘til death do us part’ has any meaning, considering she’ll die in another sixty years, and you’ll keep living for Rassilon knows how long.”
“Mum…”
“And it isn’t as if the Time Lords are around to show disdain or try and stop you, which, if I remember correctly, is what you used to live for.”
The Doctor sighed heavily as he lit a match and held it under the invitation, letting it burn in his hand. “Just feels right, that’s all. Do I really need a reason?”
“Yes.”
He sputtered. “Well…you aren’t going to get one…and anyways, weren’t you and my Father married?”
“Yes. Under the orders of the High Council.”
“So you really didn’t actually want to be married.”
“Not particularly.”
“Edible ball bearings.”
Ruth blinked rapidly. “I beg your pardon?”
“That is why I agreed to this wedding,” he said. “Edible ball bearings. There will be dozens of them, all over the cake, and on little plates. And I’m going eat every single one. That is why I am getting married.”
Ruth merely smiled. “You really love this girl don’t you?”
“So desperately, it’s almost embarrassing,” the Doctor replied quickly.
She sighed, sounding half amused and half exasperated. “Then we had better redo those invitations.”