Chase The Wind: Doctor Who/Studio C [Book 1]

Walk the Aisle, Play the Part

Walk the Aisle, Play the Part

(Pre-'Human Nature' Interlude: Part 4)

This was ridiculous.

Matt wasn't sure who to blame for these increasingly uncomfortable circumstances—the TARDIS, for working out their backstory in the first place; John, for absolutely insisting on having a wedding before the end of the school semester; the Doctor, for creating a human persona that was so stubborn; Nurse Redfern, for joining forces with John; Mallory, for putting up less of a fight than he thought she would have; or himself, because he was a massive idiot with not nearly enough self-control.

There was a surprisingly distinct buzz in the back of his head from the TARDIS at that, and he glanced up at the ceiling in surprise. He and Mallory had escaped away to the ship today—a wedding dress hadn't exactly been a priority when they'd packed the first time, and while Nurse Redfern had offered to lend Mallory her old wedding dress for the occasion, the latter had declared to him privately that it was 'the tackiest thing she had ever seen.'

"Don't you start with me now," he muttered under his breath to the darkened console room, not even caring that he felt ridiculous for talking with a space ship on emergency power. "You're the one that got us into this whole mess."

This time it was a flicker of amusement in the back of his head, and he gave a mental sort of swat in response. He didn't want to get married and he'd blame the ship for getting them into this if he wanted to.

Okay, so that was a lie. He'd marry Mallory in a heartbeat... if it wasn't 1913, if they weren't being forced into it, and, of course... if she actually loved him and wanted to get married. Her joking admission a few weeks ago that she'd marry him if she had to had stung more than it had helped.

"I found one that doesn't make me want to throw up," her voice came to him, softly.

"Took you long enough," he said, turning from the jumpseat to face the darkened doorway, squinting to see her emerge.

"It's not my fault there's a wardrobe the size of a city block and the TARDIS doesn't have enough power to help me out any," Mallory retorted, finally stepping into a better-lit area.

He carefully picked his jaw up off the floor. "I... you... wow."

"It's just me, Matt. I'm not going to be offended if you don't pretend to find me attractive."

She really had no idea what she did to him, did she? "A man would have to be blind to not find you attractive in that," he said, pleased when she opened her mouth and blinked a few times, apparently taken aback. "I'm not supposed to see you in that, though, am I? Bad luck?"

A wry grin came over her face, in contrast to the flash of something unreadable in her eyes. They spoke at the same moment. "It's not real."

It's not real. You're not really marrying her. It's just an act.

Silence dragged out as he continued to tell himself that. "I'm sorry," she finally said.

"What?"

"You know. Sorry that we have to do this whole thing. Even if it's not real... it's going to be weird."

"Only weird if we make it weird," he offered, his voice far more cheerful than he felt.

She gave him a look that was so clear he could just about hear her say what she was thinking. If you say so.

It's not real, he told himself again. Just an act. Doesn't mean anything.

Maybe if he told himself that enough times he'd start to believe it.