The odds were against us, but baby here we are...

[nothingsodivine]

[[Forward-dated to Sunday afternoon. Party post. Open to everyone, even if you don't know the happy couple- this is as much a celebration of two years of survival as it is a wedding.]]

The wedding reception is being held at the Grand Ballroom, familiar to some as the same ballroom the Christmas Ball was held a year ago. It's also been decorated

Comments

[findaconstant]

Dan is here (and still blond), dressed in a snappy suit and shiny new shoes, hiding behind a large piece of cake.

His logic is perfect: if he has cake, Winny can't ask him to dance. It makes perfect sense. It's not that he doesn't want to dance - he would if he could! - but he values his dignity and this is really good cake.

His plan is working, so far. He's sticking with his cake and Winny, as far as he knows, is off being adorable and social. He has no problem with this.

Mmm, cake.

[crossindexing]

Winny is here! Dressed in an elegant, faintly pink dress that still manages to look like it belongs on the young star of an after school special who happens to be going to prom.

Or something.

She stumbles to Dan's side, looking slightly winded. Dancing wears a girl out, after all. She beams at him. "This is fun! Isn't this fun? It's nice to have something good happen after everything else."

[findaconstant]

Dan thinks it's a very nice dress. He's also sure no one else could make it as good as Winny does, even in her winded state.

"It's fun," he agrees, smiling over at her. "This cake is really good."

Perhaps Winny would like some cake!

Off of Dan's fork.

Maybe?

"Want to try some?" He holds out his fork with a little piece of cake on it.

[crossindexing]

She goes slightly pink, leaning in to take the bite and quickly pulling back, dabbing a finger at her lips. She nods vigorously, almost chokes, and then swallows. "It is."

She fidgets over to the wall, leaning against it with her hands behind her back and drumming on it lightly in time with the music. It's so nerve-wracking, being this close. One would think after everything that talking would be easier, not make her squeak and want to hide behind some cake of her own. "Um."

[Locked]

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor has cake. And the Doctor is beginning to think that, maybe just this once, they'll get through a day like this without something unpleasant happening.

The Doctor, clearly, is a moron.

[alsotravels]

It isn't hard, working out just where the Doctor's future self would be likely to appear today. Granted, a wedding reception's much too domestic for this Doctor, but maybe the latest one's better with this sort of thing.

So the Doctor just makes his way through the crowds, following the feel of Time Lord, until he finds someone who fits Dmitri's description.

And then he grins, grabs a fork, and moves close enough to steal a bite of the other Doctor's cake.

"This is really good cake," he says, grinning in a way that's got more teeth in it than should be possible. "And you can't expect me to fall for the old 'I'll stop by, but sorry if I don't mention when, oh, sorry, seem to have been distracted' trick when I still remember using it." There's something in the smile and in the posture, an edge to his already manic demeanour, that suggests the other Doctor's standing on ice that's getting thinner by the moment, but oh, he'll play it up nice enough for the crowds

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor's about to protest his cake being stolen before he looks up and sees just who it is to blame for that.

For all of his past self's manic grinning, he doesn't smile at all. He pauses a moment, and then sets his plate down on the nearest table. He glances to the extended hand, and then briefly around the room - possibly he's looking for Rose, or Donna, or even the TARDIS, someone to rescue him from this situation.

None of those people are anywhere he can easily catch their attention or duck behind them, and so he sighs, swinging his attention back to... himself. Oh, he remembers that smile. He'd forgotten - or maybe never realised - how disconcerting it must have been to those on the receiving end.

"I did mention I was busy," he says, as if that absolutely explains avoiding himself for this long. "Can we do this... somewhere else?"

Assuming that never doing this ever isn't an option...

[alsotravels]

"Somewhere else," the Doctor says, "would be a wonderful idea. I'm open to suggestions."

He scans the room for the nearest exit, never quite taking his attention off his future self. This one reminds him a bit of his Fifth, and he wouldn't be surprised if the other Doctor just took off running. Good way to ruin a wedding reception; kind of like punching himself, for that matter.

That's why the punching can wait until they're someplace more private. And people say he isn't considerate.

delayed commenting ftw but i figure i should tag her into her own reception thinganabob

[smithnjones]

Martha Jones is indescribably happy. She's all over the ballroom. She's dancing out on the dance floor and enjoying the company of loved ones and strangers.

She is trying to make her rounds to say hello to anyone who came to either the ceremony or the reception. There are a lot of people here, but she's determined to make it happen. When she's determined, nearly anything is within her reach.

Feel free to say hello. She'll be incredibly happy to chat for a little while or to dance.