DW Fic: Gonna Set My Soul On Fire
Title: Gonna Set My Soul On Fire
Author: nancybrown
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: River/Eleven, Amy/Rory, OC
Words: 450
Spoilers: up through "A Good Man Goes to War"
Summary: Roger has conducted hundreds of weddings, but everything about this couple strikes him as not quite right.
AN: Written for spoiler_song's Guns N' Curls Ficathon for myconstant's prompt: Las Vegas.
***
Roger has conducted hundreds of weddings, but everything about this couple strikes him as not quite right: she's in a white sundress, with a black plastic gun strapped to her leg and a white Stetson on her head; he's wearing a ridiculous top hat and tails that would look more appropriate on Roger's grandfather. Their two witnesses, who are clearly younger than either bride or groom, are introduced as "the bride's parents," and he doesn't want to know what they're costumed as. Also, they're all English or something.
Whatever.
Roger leads the ceremony, throwing in his standard "Thank you, thank you very much," and "Uh huh," but only when appropriate. He takes pride in his work, unlike those cut-rate Elvises on the Strip. People want to be married by The King, not some wannabe in a sparkly white jumpsuit. He usually gets giggles from his clients anyway, but this couple is too busy rewriting their vows every ten seconds while Roger is trying to officiate. "For richer and poorer" is thrown out, as is "in sickness and in health," but they add "Against Daleks and Cybermen; through history and in future; forsaking all clones, doppelgangers and alternate-dimension versions."
The other two keep throwing in suggestions:
"Through flying sharks and stone angels!"
"You should put 'sickness and health' back in!"
Roger is grateful when they finally reach the part about kissing the bride. He gives them his standard serenade of "Love Me Tender" and wishes them a happy marriage.
The groom shakes his hand wildly afterwards, and hands him a lottery ticket. Great. What amounts to a dollar tip and already spent. Roger shoves it into his jumpsuit anyway. "By the by," the groom says, "he was right. You are the best one. You make him very proud."
"Oh," says the bride, "you knew him?"
The red-haired girl, the "mother" snorts. "No way."
"What?" asks the groom. "He told me when I gave him a lift home."
"Home where, exactly?" asks the man in the Roman getup.
"Lovely little planet in the Nestoria System, it's where bananas originally came from, I go there all the time. Let's drop in for a visit!"
"Not tonight," the bride says, grabbing his arm possessively. "You promised me a honeymoon back in the heyday of Lyros Prime."
"Drop us off first, eh?" says the redhead. "Bit weird, horning in on your kid's honeymoon."
With a wave, the four of them go. Roger's got a few minutes until his next wedding party is due at the neon chapel, and he takes a breather in the front office. Outside the window, he watches the Brits climb into a too-small blue box just sitting there in the parking lot (he also performs drive-thru weddings by appointment, three of those scheduled for tomorrow, busy busy busy).
The blue box disappears as he watches.
Uh huh.
***
The End
***
Author: nancybrown
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: River/Eleven, Amy/Rory, OC
Words: 450
Spoilers: up through "A Good Man Goes to War"
Summary: Roger has conducted hundreds of weddings, but everything about this couple strikes him as not quite right.
AN: Written for spoiler_song's Guns N' Curls Ficathon for myconstant's prompt: Las Vegas.
***
Roger has conducted hundreds of weddings, but everything about this couple strikes him as not quite right: she's in a white sundress, with a black plastic gun strapped to her leg and a white Stetson on her head; he's wearing a ridiculous top hat and tails that would look more appropriate on Roger's grandfather. Their two witnesses, who are clearly younger than either bride or groom, are introduced as "the bride's parents," and he doesn't want to know what they're costumed as. Also, they're all English or something.
Whatever.
Roger leads the ceremony, throwing in his standard "Thank you, thank you very much," and "Uh huh," but only when appropriate. He takes pride in his work, unlike those cut-rate Elvises on the Strip. People want to be married by The King, not some wannabe in a sparkly white jumpsuit. He usually gets giggles from his clients anyway, but this couple is too busy rewriting their vows every ten seconds while Roger is trying to officiate. "For richer and poorer" is thrown out, as is "in sickness and in health," but they add "Against Daleks and Cybermen; through history and in future; forsaking all clones, doppelgangers and alternate-dimension versions."
The other two keep throwing in suggestions:
"Through flying sharks and stone angels!"
"You should put 'sickness and health' back in!"
Roger is grateful when they finally reach the part about kissing the bride. He gives them his standard serenade of "Love Me Tender" and wishes them a happy marriage.
The groom shakes his hand wildly afterwards, and hands him a lottery ticket. Great. What amounts to a dollar tip and already spent. Roger shoves it into his jumpsuit anyway. "By the by," the groom says, "he was right. You are the best one. You make him very proud."
"Oh," says the bride, "you knew him?"
The red-haired girl, the "mother" snorts. "No way."
"What?" asks the groom. "He told me when I gave him a lift home."
"Home where, exactly?" asks the man in the Roman getup.
"Lovely little planet in the Nestoria System, it's where bananas originally came from, I go there all the time. Let's drop in for a visit!"
"Not tonight," the bride says, grabbing his arm possessively. "You promised me a honeymoon back in the heyday of Lyros Prime."
"Drop us off first, eh?" says the redhead. "Bit weird, horning in on your kid's honeymoon."
With a wave, the four of them go. Roger's got a few minutes until his next wedding party is due at the neon chapel, and he takes a breather in the front office. Outside the window, he watches the Brits climb into a too-small blue box just sitting there in the parking lot (he also performs drive-thru weddings by appointment, three of those scheduled for tomorrow, busy busy busy).
The blue box disappears as he watches.
Uh huh.
***
The End
***