fic: of almost everything (2/?)
Title: Of Almost Everything (2/?)
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Rory, River, Eleven, Amy (Rory/Amy, Rory + River, Amy + Eleven, Eleven/River)
Wordcount: ~1500
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.
Summary: Rory has to pretend to be the Doctor.
A/N: Part 1, in which there is some context.
This part is more gen and less semi-crack. There is some drama, too.
Rory intended to make his feelings known with a few well-phrased sentences; somehow, however, all that came out was, "What?"
"I need you to wear the Doctor's clothes." River cocked her head to the side and smiled in a manner that said she expected opposition.
"Yes. Right. I got that. Why?"
"They'll be helpful when you tell people you're the Doctor."
"When I tell people what?"
"Yes, River," interjected the Doctor, sternly, "When he tells people what?"
River sighed, patiently. "When he tells people he's you."
"We are not putting Rory in danger because of future-me."
"We aren't putting Rory in danger because of future-you. You'll understand. Later."
"We are not putting Rory in danger at all!"
"We aren't putting Rory in danger! At all!"
"Well, future-me is putting him in danger!"
"No, you're not! I can promise you as much."
At this point Rory decided to try his hand at forming sentences again. "I think I'm the person who should decide."
Amy raised her brows and spread her hands. "So, Ror, do you want to?"
"Spontaneously... it's not at the top of my list."
"And if you think about it?" asked River. "The chance to wreak havoc in the Doctor's name?"
"When you say 'havoc'-" the Doctor started, but Amy mercilessly elbowed him into silence.
Rory thought about it. As the Doctor he would - well, he'd have to wear those clothes and act like an eccentric alien, and he'd have to... do whatever he wanted, and be smart, and possibly somehow save something from something. Could be... fun, actually. "There's not, like, a Dalek invasion or something?" He put his hands firmly on his hips to avoid the urge to draw an imaginary sword.
"There is no Dalek invasion," River said, with utter sincerity, clutching her journal.
"Right." Rory looked from her to the surly Doctor, from him to the smirking Amy, from her to the still-blinking light between the internal stabiliser and the gravitational analyser. "I can give it a try."
"Are you sure?" asked the Doctor, frowning.
Rory shrugged. "If I can help, I'll do it."
River exhaled visibly, then drew herself up. "Good. For the next few hours, nobody question me." She turned to Amy and the Doctor. "Sweetie, you have to hide. You should be a tourist, I think. Amy, you should probably look after him."
"So..." said Amy, "the Doctor will be dressed as Rory?"
"The Doctor will most definitely not!" said the Doctor, very loudly.
"The Doctor," said River, "will go to the wardrobe and pick out a coat that isn't too conspicuous. He'll change his shirt and remove his bowtie. And he'll remember that I am immune to passive aggressive dressing."
The Doctor clapped a hand over his bowtie. "I'm not removing it!"
"Yes, you are."
"Are you going to make me? You and what space-time paradox?"
"Yes." River laughed and brandished the journal. "And I'm not slipping up that easily."
Amy slapped the Doctor right on an elbow patch. "Just take it off!"
He glared at her, then slowly raised his gaze to a point above her head. "And that!" he shouted, making Amy jump. "My poor TARDIS, left like that! Look at that hole!" He hurriedly rounded the console and the fallen stepladder. Looking supremely worried, he stared up at the hole.
"Oh, so that's why all systems work satisfactorily?" asked Amy. She nodded to the view screen, which said: 'diagnostic complete: all systems work satisfactorily'. "I suppose the toaster isn't as important as you think."
The Doctor frowned at the hole. "Oh, thank you," he muttered.
River snapped her fingers once; the sound echoed far more than it should have. "It's very sweet of you to worry, but now you're starting to waste time."
"Waste time! Think of the situation! Think of Rory in my clothes, think of the TARDIS, think of-"
"You without a bowtie?" Amy supplied.
River pursed her lips. "Everything will be fine. Now, dear, toddle off and fetch one of your shirt-bowtie combos for Rory. Preferably not the most flamboyant one."
"What? This one doesn't do? The Red One doesn't do?" The Doctor caught Rory's gaze. "Rory?"
Rory faltered. "Well... you're wearing it. Right now."
"Yes! Doesn't it do?"
"Yes, but... It's not my colour? And you're wearing it."
"Oh, fine! I'll fetch the Blue One." The Doctor passed a hand over his face and came toward them, utterly displeased.
As he passed them, Amy punched him on the shoulder and Rory went for a confident smile. Just when he was about to pass River, she held out a hand and said: "I need your jacket. It will do."
The Doctor peeled off his jacket and handed it to River, looking dazed.
River draped the jacket over an arm and offered him a tiny curtsy. "Thank you."
He stared from River to Rory to Amy, while pawing at his pink shirt. "Fine. Fine. Why even bother pretending I'm a tourist? Why don't I just stay here? Why don't I stay and fix the TARDIS? Why don't I just hide under a bench in the arboretum? I'm going to hide under a bench in the arboretum."
"If I have to say things like that," said Rory, "I've changed my mind about this."
"It sounded better in my head!" the Doctor announced haughtily, turned abruptly, and stomped up the stairs.
Rory and the two women watched him disappear into the correct hallway.
"What's with the old man?" asked Amy.
"Oh, he's trying to handle the situation," answered River. "It's not going very well."
"River..." said Rory, turning to her. "This is going too fast. Why can't the Doctor be the Doctor? Is it that bad?"
River looked grimly determined, but her voice was light. "It's nothing like what you imagine, I can tell you as much."
"But there'll be... stuff happening? I mean, we're not going to spend two hours at the beach, are we?"
"There might be stuff. We'll handle it." She put the journal back into the book bag, dumped that on the floor, and turned to the view screen.
Amy sidled up to Rory and rested her chin on his shoulder, the coconut scent of her shampoo enfolding them in a fragrant cocoon. She slid her left hand down his right arm, entwined her fingers with his. Though the inevitable smirk was on her lips, her eyes were rather soft. He thought she understood. She said, "Just have fun with it, eh."
"Fun." Rory smiled. "I'll try."
She squeezed his hand and winked. "You used to be a great Doctor." Yeah, she understood.
"So, Amy," said River, turning the view screen in their direction, "what do you want to know about sightseeing in the Belt?"
The Doctor returned surprisingly quickly, wearing a frown and a white shirt. He carried a bundle of dark fabric under one arm and had the blue-patterned shirt and the matching tie draped over the other. He looked decidedly odd without a bowtie, but seemed to have accepted the loss of it. Although: "I kept the braces," he said, in a voice one did not argue with.
River resolutely snatched the shirt and tie and handed them to Rory.
The dark fabric, when unfolded, turned into a plain-ish dark grey coat and a Proper Smart Hat, as Rory's grandfather would have said. "Sooo..." said the Doctor, vaguely angrily, while shrugging into the coat, "What am I supposed to be?"
"Anything you like," said River. "You're a tourist. Please curb your hubris, though. If you and Amy are ready, you can leave now."
Rory scrutinised the blue shirt. "Will this fit me? How does it even fit him?"
"Be glad you don't have to wear the trousers," said Amy, impatiently. She squeezed the travel folders the TARDIS had printed into the pocket of her leather jacket. "Why doesn't he, though?"
River sighed. "Rory, you can wear your own shirt. I think we'll manage with the tie and the tweed. That answers your question, too, Amy."
"I'm still having second thoughts about this idea, which makes them, well, seventh thoughts, actually," said the Doctor. "Rory, you don't have to."
"I'll be fine," said Rory, with actual confidence. "I'm slightly excited now."
"You're sure?"
"Yeah... Yeah. It'll be fine. I'll just shout out 'I'm the Doctor' and everyone'll scatter."
"Mmm," said the Doctor. "Works every time, that." Then he cleared his throat and put on his hat.
"River!" said Amy, zipping up her jacket. "You'll take care of Rory, yeah?"
River glanced at Rory. "We'll take care of each other."
"Great!" Amy skipped up to Rory, tickled his stomach and pressed her lips to his. "Don't get too fond of the bowtie, 'kay?"
The Doctor nudged Amy aside and unceremoniously pressed his palms to Rory's cheeks. "Oh, Rory, you'll make a wonderful me!"
"I'll try," said Rory, as best he could.
The Doctor gave Rory's face a few pats and withdrew. "River," he said, holding up a finger, "you promised."
River gave him a rather tight smile and inclined her head.
"Come along now, fake Rory!" said Amy, took the Doctor by the hand and led him to the door.
"Have fun!" called Rory, in that husband-y voice he had somehow developed during their first week as a married couple.
"Remember," said Amy, blowing them a kiss over a shoulder, "River's as scared of you as you are of her."
Then she and the Doctor were out the door and the TARDIS was suddenly very quiet.
Part 3
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Rory, River, Eleven, Amy (Rory/Amy, Rory + River, Amy + Eleven, Eleven/River)
Wordcount: ~1500
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.
Summary: Rory has to pretend to be the Doctor.
A/N: Part 1, in which there is some context.
This part is more gen and less semi-crack. There is some drama, too.
Rory intended to make his feelings known with a few well-phrased sentences; somehow, however, all that came out was, "What?"
"I need you to wear the Doctor's clothes." River cocked her head to the side and smiled in a manner that said she expected opposition.
"Yes. Right. I got that. Why?"
"They'll be helpful when you tell people you're the Doctor."
"When I tell people what?"
"Yes, River," interjected the Doctor, sternly, "When he tells people what?"
River sighed, patiently. "When he tells people he's you."
"We are not putting Rory in danger because of future-me."
"We aren't putting Rory in danger because of future-you. You'll understand. Later."
"We are not putting Rory in danger at all!"
"We aren't putting Rory in danger! At all!"
"Well, future-me is putting him in danger!"
"No, you're not! I can promise you as much."
At this point Rory decided to try his hand at forming sentences again. "I think I'm the person who should decide."
Amy raised her brows and spread her hands. "So, Ror, do you want to?"
"Spontaneously... it's not at the top of my list."
"And if you think about it?" asked River. "The chance to wreak havoc in the Doctor's name?"
"When you say 'havoc'-" the Doctor started, but Amy mercilessly elbowed him into silence.
Rory thought about it. As the Doctor he would - well, he'd have to wear those clothes and act like an eccentric alien, and he'd have to... do whatever he wanted, and be smart, and possibly somehow save something from something. Could be... fun, actually. "There's not, like, a Dalek invasion or something?" He put his hands firmly on his hips to avoid the urge to draw an imaginary sword.
"There is no Dalek invasion," River said, with utter sincerity, clutching her journal.
"Right." Rory looked from her to the surly Doctor, from him to the smirking Amy, from her to the still-blinking light between the internal stabiliser and the gravitational analyser. "I can give it a try."
"Are you sure?" asked the Doctor, frowning.
Rory shrugged. "If I can help, I'll do it."
River exhaled visibly, then drew herself up. "Good. For the next few hours, nobody question me." She turned to Amy and the Doctor. "Sweetie, you have to hide. You should be a tourist, I think. Amy, you should probably look after him."
"So..." said Amy, "the Doctor will be dressed as Rory?"
"The Doctor will most definitely not!" said the Doctor, very loudly.
"The Doctor," said River, "will go to the wardrobe and pick out a coat that isn't too conspicuous. He'll change his shirt and remove his bowtie. And he'll remember that I am immune to passive aggressive dressing."
The Doctor clapped a hand over his bowtie. "I'm not removing it!"
"Yes, you are."
"Are you going to make me? You and what space-time paradox?"
"Yes." River laughed and brandished the journal. "And I'm not slipping up that easily."
Amy slapped the Doctor right on an elbow patch. "Just take it off!"
He glared at her, then slowly raised his gaze to a point above her head. "And that!" he shouted, making Amy jump. "My poor TARDIS, left like that! Look at that hole!" He hurriedly rounded the console and the fallen stepladder. Looking supremely worried, he stared up at the hole.
"Oh, so that's why all systems work satisfactorily?" asked Amy. She nodded to the view screen, which said: 'diagnostic complete: all systems work satisfactorily'. "I suppose the toaster isn't as important as you think."
The Doctor frowned at the hole. "Oh, thank you," he muttered.
River snapped her fingers once; the sound echoed far more than it should have. "It's very sweet of you to worry, but now you're starting to waste time."
"Waste time! Think of the situation! Think of Rory in my clothes, think of the TARDIS, think of-"
"You without a bowtie?" Amy supplied.
River pursed her lips. "Everything will be fine. Now, dear, toddle off and fetch one of your shirt-bowtie combos for Rory. Preferably not the most flamboyant one."
"What? This one doesn't do? The Red One doesn't do?" The Doctor caught Rory's gaze. "Rory?"
Rory faltered. "Well... you're wearing it. Right now."
"Yes! Doesn't it do?"
"Yes, but... It's not my colour? And you're wearing it."
"Oh, fine! I'll fetch the Blue One." The Doctor passed a hand over his face and came toward them, utterly displeased.
As he passed them, Amy punched him on the shoulder and Rory went for a confident smile. Just when he was about to pass River, she held out a hand and said: "I need your jacket. It will do."
The Doctor peeled off his jacket and handed it to River, looking dazed.
River draped the jacket over an arm and offered him a tiny curtsy. "Thank you."
He stared from River to Rory to Amy, while pawing at his pink shirt. "Fine. Fine. Why even bother pretending I'm a tourist? Why don't I just stay here? Why don't I stay and fix the TARDIS? Why don't I just hide under a bench in the arboretum? I'm going to hide under a bench in the arboretum."
"If I have to say things like that," said Rory, "I've changed my mind about this."
"It sounded better in my head!" the Doctor announced haughtily, turned abruptly, and stomped up the stairs.
Rory and the two women watched him disappear into the correct hallway.
"What's with the old man?" asked Amy.
"Oh, he's trying to handle the situation," answered River. "It's not going very well."
"River..." said Rory, turning to her. "This is going too fast. Why can't the Doctor be the Doctor? Is it that bad?"
River looked grimly determined, but her voice was light. "It's nothing like what you imagine, I can tell you as much."
"But there'll be... stuff happening? I mean, we're not going to spend two hours at the beach, are we?"
"There might be stuff. We'll handle it." She put the journal back into the book bag, dumped that on the floor, and turned to the view screen.
Amy sidled up to Rory and rested her chin on his shoulder, the coconut scent of her shampoo enfolding them in a fragrant cocoon. She slid her left hand down his right arm, entwined her fingers with his. Though the inevitable smirk was on her lips, her eyes were rather soft. He thought she understood. She said, "Just have fun with it, eh."
"Fun." Rory smiled. "I'll try."
She squeezed his hand and winked. "You used to be a great Doctor." Yeah, she understood.
"So, Amy," said River, turning the view screen in their direction, "what do you want to know about sightseeing in the Belt?"
The Doctor returned surprisingly quickly, wearing a frown and a white shirt. He carried a bundle of dark fabric under one arm and had the blue-patterned shirt and the matching tie draped over the other. He looked decidedly odd without a bowtie, but seemed to have accepted the loss of it. Although: "I kept the braces," he said, in a voice one did not argue with.
River resolutely snatched the shirt and tie and handed them to Rory.
The dark fabric, when unfolded, turned into a plain-ish dark grey coat and a Proper Smart Hat, as Rory's grandfather would have said. "Sooo..." said the Doctor, vaguely angrily, while shrugging into the coat, "What am I supposed to be?"
"Anything you like," said River. "You're a tourist. Please curb your hubris, though. If you and Amy are ready, you can leave now."
Rory scrutinised the blue shirt. "Will this fit me? How does it even fit him?"
"Be glad you don't have to wear the trousers," said Amy, impatiently. She squeezed the travel folders the TARDIS had printed into the pocket of her leather jacket. "Why doesn't he, though?"
River sighed. "Rory, you can wear your own shirt. I think we'll manage with the tie and the tweed. That answers your question, too, Amy."
"I'm still having second thoughts about this idea, which makes them, well, seventh thoughts, actually," said the Doctor. "Rory, you don't have to."
"I'll be fine," said Rory, with actual confidence. "I'm slightly excited now."
"You're sure?"
"Yeah... Yeah. It'll be fine. I'll just shout out 'I'm the Doctor' and everyone'll scatter."
"Mmm," said the Doctor. "Works every time, that." Then he cleared his throat and put on his hat.
"River!" said Amy, zipping up her jacket. "You'll take care of Rory, yeah?"
River glanced at Rory. "We'll take care of each other."
"Great!" Amy skipped up to Rory, tickled his stomach and pressed her lips to his. "Don't get too fond of the bowtie, 'kay?"
The Doctor nudged Amy aside and unceremoniously pressed his palms to Rory's cheeks. "Oh, Rory, you'll make a wonderful me!"
"I'll try," said Rory, as best he could.
The Doctor gave Rory's face a few pats and withdrew. "River," he said, holding up a finger, "you promised."
River gave him a rather tight smile and inclined her head.
"Come along now, fake Rory!" said Amy, took the Doctor by the hand and led him to the door.
"Have fun!" called Rory, in that husband-y voice he had somehow developed during their first week as a married couple.
"Remember," said Amy, blowing them a kiss over a shoulder, "River's as scared of you as you are of her."
Then she and the Doctor were out the door and the TARDIS was suddenly very quiet.
Part 3