Monogamy in fic is so passe.
I do this thing where, before I go on a trip, I have to obsessively wrap stuff up. even if I'm only going to be gone a couple days. No, it doesn't matter. MUST ORGANIZE NOW!
So here's a fic.
Title: The Not So Unlikely Saga of Fitz Kreiner
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing(s): Fitz/Susan; Fitz/Jack; Fitz/Benny; Fitz/Hex; Fitz/Donna
Rating: PG
Warnings (if applicable): Some swearing, mostly in the Fitz/Benny & Fitz/Jack sections (is anyone surprised?)
Prompt from the churchontime community: 5 companions that Fitz Kreiner nearly married (okay, I cheated a little on one, but I COULDN’T RESIST)
Author's Notes: I actually now want to continue the Fitz/Jack storyline. Possibly also the Fitz/Benny storyline, come to think of it. SEND HELP.
1. “Not my granddaughter, you don’t!”
The bride wore a simple blue dress. The groom kept pulling at his collar. There were only a few guests present, all of them sitting on the bride’s side. The ceremony progressed in a usual sort of fashion.
“If there is anyone here present who knows of an impediment why these two should not be wed, let him or her speak now or forever hold their peace-”
“Stop!” a man bellowed as he barged into the room. Everyone turned, craning their necks to see the newcomer.
The bride and groom turned as well, just as startled as their guests. “Susan!” the old man stormed up the aisle, carrying a cane and apparently ready to use it if anyone attempted to get between himself and the bride. “I categorically forbid you to marry this man!”
“Grandfather!” Susan Foreman exclaimed, a smile blossoming across her face.
Fitz Kreiner turned to frown at her accusingly. “You never said anything about family coming,” he said.
2. We Shall Never Speak of This Again
“Nhhhh.” Fitz flopped over and tried to open his eyes. They weren’t feeling cooperative, apparently. Then again, neither was the rest of his body. “Ghhh.”
“Uhhh?”
Over the course of the next sixty seconds-his brain not functioning at its best-Fitz had this series of thoughts:
Fitz was in a bed.
Fitz was in a bed with another person.
Fitz was in a bed with another man.
Fitz had a really fucking painful hangover.
With the hangover thought, he could feel his brain sloshing around, which made him feel a bit queasy. But he finally managed to get his body functioning enough that he could rub the sticky, gummy crap out of his eyes. After that, his eyes were far more cooperative about opening and looking at where the hell he was.
As soon as he opened them, he wished he hadn’t.
“Aaaaaargh.”
“Mmmm.” The other man in the bed-naked, he was bollocking naked-shifted closer and put his hand on Fitz’s bum. Familiarly. Fitz’s bum twitched.
“Graaa!”
“Hmm?” The other man-all square-jawed and brawny, pretty if you liked that sort of thing-lifted an eyebrow but didn’t open his eyes. His lips curved upward in a little smile. “Mmm.” His hand shifted on Fitz’s bum. Fitz squawked again and tried to leap off the bed, but due to the combination of hangover and sheet entanglement, he only managed a glacially-slow slither over the side.
“Hey.” The other man finally opened his eyes, groaned, and looked over the side of the bed. “Fitz, what the hell are you doing on the floor? And why did you have to take the covers with you?”
“Stop,” Fitz said, holding up a hand. The other hand was busy clutching the side of his head. “Please stop managing entire sentences right now. Brain hurts.”
The other man-Jack, his name was Jack and oh god that meant that Fitz could actually conceivably remember some part of the previous evening-smirked. “I told you to stop after the second bottle of champagne, you idiot.”
“Champagne?” Fitz couldn’t breathe properly.
“Yeah, champagne. It always goes to people’s heads a lot quicker than they expect. And New New New Las Vegas’s champagne is one of the best brands in the universe.”
“Oh god.” Fitz brought his hand down from his head-which didn’t fall off, for which he supposed he should have been grateful, but right now he was too busy panicking-and looked at the ring on his finger. “Oh god.”
“That’s exactly what you said last night, only not in that tone of voice.” Jack sounded fond, and nostalgic, and Fitz put his head down between his-naked!-legs and breathed as deeply as he could manage.
“Oh, Fitz,” Jack sighed out and slid off the bed to join the other man on the floor. He patted him on the back, and Fitz could feel the press of a matching ring against his shoulder blade. “Don’t worry, New New New Reno is just one planet over and they’ve got the easiest divorces possible in the nearest five galaxies.”
3. Aliens Really Did Make Them Do It
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” Fitz muttered, turning to face Benny.
“I’m not making you do it,” she retorted through gritted teeth, taking both his hands and squeezing a little more tightly than necessary. “They are, or hadn’t you noticed the big, sharp pointy things along with the big painful guns?”
“You started it! If you hadn’t started spouting your mouth off about the independence of women and all that rot-”
“Rot! Rot! You sanctimonious mid-twentieth-century chauvinistic git, you’re even worse than my first husband!”
“I can’t help it if you have terrible taste in men!”
“Oh, well, at least we’re agreed on something! You know you’re terrible!”
“Ahem,” the alien priest coughed delicately, and the bride- and groom-to-be looked at him. “If you’re quite finished?” He nodded pointedly to the armed guards surrounding them.
“Oh-balls,” Fitz and Benny said in unison.
4. Miss Jane’s Guide to Alien Marriage Ceremonies
“Shut up shut up shut up,” Hex muttered in a relentless monotone, hurrying toward the TARDIS.
“Yeah.” Fitz sounded a little dazed, or maybe traumatized. “It’s not funny. It’s really, really, really not. Really.”
“Oh, come on,” Ace chortled, or snickered, or maybe even guffawed. “The pair of you? Almost participating in a marriage ceremony? Together?”
“How were we supposed to know?!” Hex tossed over his shoulder, still making a beeline for the TARDIS while Fitz and Ace followed a little more slowly.
“I just can’t believe you both reached for the food at the same time.” Ace had to stop to catch her breath. Fitz dithered, waiting for her but incapable of actually looking at her. Or at Hex. “That was just brilliant.”
“Shut up shut up shut up shut up-”
“Can we just find our collective Doctors and pretend this never happened?” Fitz asked plaintively.
5. Runaway Bride Redux (Without the Alien Monsters)
“Wait, what, no, hold on-”
“Shut up,” Donna said and grabbed Fitz’s hand. “You’re coming to meet him, and that’s final, and he’s going to bloody be your best man, and that’s final too.” She started dragging Fitz behind her, who continued to protest in vain. “Doctor!” Donna called. “Doctor, I want you to meet somebody!”
The Doctor gratefully turned away from the conversation he was having with the Alpha Centaurian and grinned at Donna. “Hello, Donna, where have you gotten yourself-what?” he stared at Fitz.
“Doctor!” Donna grinned. “This is Fitz. I’m going to marry him.”
“What,” said the Doctor.
“Um,” Fitz waved a little and looked sheepish. “Hi, Doc.”
“What,” said the Doctor.
One of these days I shall surprise everyone, myself included, and write fic again that is not in any way related to Doctor Who. Really. Scout's honor.
So here's a fic.
Title: The Not So Unlikely Saga of Fitz Kreiner
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing(s): Fitz/Susan; Fitz/Jack; Fitz/Benny; Fitz/Hex; Fitz/Donna
Rating: PG
Warnings (if applicable): Some swearing, mostly in the Fitz/Benny & Fitz/Jack sections (is anyone surprised?)
Prompt from the churchontime community: 5 companions that Fitz Kreiner nearly married (okay, I cheated a little on one, but I COULDN’T RESIST)
Author's Notes: I actually now want to continue the Fitz/Jack storyline. Possibly also the Fitz/Benny storyline, come to think of it. SEND HELP.
1. “Not my granddaughter, you don’t!”
The bride wore a simple blue dress. The groom kept pulling at his collar. There were only a few guests present, all of them sitting on the bride’s side. The ceremony progressed in a usual sort of fashion.
“If there is anyone here present who knows of an impediment why these two should not be wed, let him or her speak now or forever hold their peace-”
“Stop!” a man bellowed as he barged into the room. Everyone turned, craning their necks to see the newcomer.
The bride and groom turned as well, just as startled as their guests. “Susan!” the old man stormed up the aisle, carrying a cane and apparently ready to use it if anyone attempted to get between himself and the bride. “I categorically forbid you to marry this man!”
“Grandfather!” Susan Foreman exclaimed, a smile blossoming across her face.
Fitz Kreiner turned to frown at her accusingly. “You never said anything about family coming,” he said.
2. We Shall Never Speak of This Again
“Nhhhh.” Fitz flopped over and tried to open his eyes. They weren’t feeling cooperative, apparently. Then again, neither was the rest of his body. “Ghhh.”
“Uhhh?”
Over the course of the next sixty seconds-his brain not functioning at its best-Fitz had this series of thoughts:
Fitz was in a bed.
Fitz was in a bed with another person.
Fitz was in a bed with another man.
Fitz had a really fucking painful hangover.
With the hangover thought, he could feel his brain sloshing around, which made him feel a bit queasy. But he finally managed to get his body functioning enough that he could rub the sticky, gummy crap out of his eyes. After that, his eyes were far more cooperative about opening and looking at where the hell he was.
As soon as he opened them, he wished he hadn’t.
“Aaaaaargh.”
“Mmmm.” The other man in the bed-naked, he was bollocking naked-shifted closer and put his hand on Fitz’s bum. Familiarly. Fitz’s bum twitched.
“Graaa!”
“Hmm?” The other man-all square-jawed and brawny, pretty if you liked that sort of thing-lifted an eyebrow but didn’t open his eyes. His lips curved upward in a little smile. “Mmm.” His hand shifted on Fitz’s bum. Fitz squawked again and tried to leap off the bed, but due to the combination of hangover and sheet entanglement, he only managed a glacially-slow slither over the side.
“Hey.” The other man finally opened his eyes, groaned, and looked over the side of the bed. “Fitz, what the hell are you doing on the floor? And why did you have to take the covers with you?”
“Stop,” Fitz said, holding up a hand. The other hand was busy clutching the side of his head. “Please stop managing entire sentences right now. Brain hurts.”
The other man-Jack, his name was Jack and oh god that meant that Fitz could actually conceivably remember some part of the previous evening-smirked. “I told you to stop after the second bottle of champagne, you idiot.”
“Champagne?” Fitz couldn’t breathe properly.
“Yeah, champagne. It always goes to people’s heads a lot quicker than they expect. And New New New Las Vegas’s champagne is one of the best brands in the universe.”
“Oh god.” Fitz brought his hand down from his head-which didn’t fall off, for which he supposed he should have been grateful, but right now he was too busy panicking-and looked at the ring on his finger. “Oh god.”
“That’s exactly what you said last night, only not in that tone of voice.” Jack sounded fond, and nostalgic, and Fitz put his head down between his-naked!-legs and breathed as deeply as he could manage.
“Oh, Fitz,” Jack sighed out and slid off the bed to join the other man on the floor. He patted him on the back, and Fitz could feel the press of a matching ring against his shoulder blade. “Don’t worry, New New New Reno is just one planet over and they’ve got the easiest divorces possible in the nearest five galaxies.”
3. Aliens Really Did Make Them Do It
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” Fitz muttered, turning to face Benny.
“I’m not making you do it,” she retorted through gritted teeth, taking both his hands and squeezing a little more tightly than necessary. “They are, or hadn’t you noticed the big, sharp pointy things along with the big painful guns?”
“You started it! If you hadn’t started spouting your mouth off about the independence of women and all that rot-”
“Rot! Rot! You sanctimonious mid-twentieth-century chauvinistic git, you’re even worse than my first husband!”
“I can’t help it if you have terrible taste in men!”
“Oh, well, at least we’re agreed on something! You know you’re terrible!”
“Ahem,” the alien priest coughed delicately, and the bride- and groom-to-be looked at him. “If you’re quite finished?” He nodded pointedly to the armed guards surrounding them.
“Oh-balls,” Fitz and Benny said in unison.
4. Miss Jane’s Guide to Alien Marriage Ceremonies
“Shut up shut up shut up,” Hex muttered in a relentless monotone, hurrying toward the TARDIS.
“Yeah.” Fitz sounded a little dazed, or maybe traumatized. “It’s not funny. It’s really, really, really not. Really.”
“Oh, come on,” Ace chortled, or snickered, or maybe even guffawed. “The pair of you? Almost participating in a marriage ceremony? Together?”
“How were we supposed to know?!” Hex tossed over his shoulder, still making a beeline for the TARDIS while Fitz and Ace followed a little more slowly.
“I just can’t believe you both reached for the food at the same time.” Ace had to stop to catch her breath. Fitz dithered, waiting for her but incapable of actually looking at her. Or at Hex. “That was just brilliant.”
“Shut up shut up shut up shut up-”
“Can we just find our collective Doctors and pretend this never happened?” Fitz asked plaintively.
5. Runaway Bride Redux (Without the Alien Monsters)
“Wait, what, no, hold on-”
“Shut up,” Donna said and grabbed Fitz’s hand. “You’re coming to meet him, and that’s final, and he’s going to bloody be your best man, and that’s final too.” She started dragging Fitz behind her, who continued to protest in vain. “Doctor!” Donna called. “Doctor, I want you to meet somebody!”
The Doctor gratefully turned away from the conversation he was having with the Alpha Centaurian and grinned at Donna. “Hello, Donna, where have you gotten yourself-what?” he stared at Fitz.
“Doctor!” Donna grinned. “This is Fitz. I’m going to marry him.”
“What,” said the Doctor.
“Um,” Fitz waved a little and looked sheepish. “Hi, Doc.”
“What,” said the Doctor.
One of these days I shall surprise everyone, myself included, and write fic again that is not in any way related to Doctor Who. Really. Scout's honor.