Rating: All Ages
Characters: Ten/Rose, Reinette, Jack, Donna, Wilf, Jackie
Summary: It's 'The Decoy Bride' with Doctor Who characters. The Doctor is meant to be marrying Reinette, but in order to confuse the press, they use a decoy. Things don't go according to plan...
A/N: First things first, huge thanks to silverlunarstar for agreeing to beta this. And secondly, it's less an AU and more a rewrite with different characters. And thanks to kahki for the title.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 |
Jack continued to stare out the window and over the lawn to where the press was congregating. He wasn’t entirely sure what his plan was, but he had to come up with a good one and fast.
“So, why are we doing that?” Donna asked Jack as she gestured to where the Doctor and Rose were locked.
“As long as they,” Jack gestured to the press outside, “think Reinette is in the castle, they’ll camp out there. As long as they’re out there, they’re not looking for Reinette.”
“Ah,” replied Donna, understanding what Jack was doing, before following him as he led the way outside.
The press outside the castle were not exactly prepared to cope with the sudden influx of enterprising Hegg citizens as Minnie and her friends led the charge offering coffee, tea, and cakes.
All for the reasonable price of “One pound each!”
In an outhouse not far from the castle, an old man was using ‘The Ornithologist’s Wife’ as toilet paper while his wife shouted at him to hurry up as more press were arriving.
He flushed the toilet and left, not aware that just above him, hiding in the edge of the roof, was Reinette. She wasn’t happy about her hiding spot, but she admitted to herself she was desperate.
Back inside the locked room of the castle, Rose was still looking around, but wandered up beside the Doctor as he opened a curtain that hid an ice sculpture from view.
“Ahh, the happy couple” she said, as she looked on the sculpture and added, “Nice arse.”
The Doctor wasn’t sure what to say to that and just turned and walked away.
Rose, letting her curiosity get the better of her, started looking at the bags placed around the base of the sculpture. “Hmm, what’s this?”
While the Doctor continued pacing around the room, desperate for a way out, Rose, briefly wondering if he had itchy feet, took one of the bags back to the bed and sat down with it.
“iPhone, diamond earrings. It’s a party bag, isn’t it? You’re getting party bags from your own wedding,” said Rose, surprised and rather amazed at what people with money would do.
The entire thing was made more amazing and Rose couldn’t help the incredulous look on her face as she pulled out a calculator covered in crystals. It was probably worth more than her first car was. She gestured at the Doctor before saying, “You’re too far gone to understand, but it’s so funny.”
The Doctor, who’d been watching as Rose emptied the bag, gave up at this point and turned to sit down and attempt to ignore her.
“I’m counting all my money on my very expensive money counting machine,” Rose said, the Doctor watching her with an annoyed expression, “Bling, bling! Hello? Eight times six million, at twelve and a half per cent interest. I’ll just check for you.”
“Look, try to get your head around this, I’m marrying Reinette Poisson. I’m not marrying you,” said the Doctor, as he stood and walked towards Rose and gesturing expansively. “This is Reinette’s idea and, and my idea, of a great wedding.”
Continuing to pull items out of the bag, Rose was amused by the Doctor’s claims that this was his idea of a great wedding, but couldn’t help but almost lose it as she pulled out a t-shirt with ‘Mrs. Smith’ printed on it. She held it up and grinned, tongue poking out through her teeth.
“If I were marrying you,” the Doctor, leaning over and staring at Rose, continued, “we would be in the place of your choosing. The bar of some brightly lit two star hotel, no doubt, draped in tinsel, drinking German wine and watching your cousins have sex in the car park!”
Rose briefly wondered why she’d ever thought he was attractive and decided she’d had enough lecturing from the bad writer, so she stood up and said, “You’re a horrible snob!”
“So are you!” said the Doctor, though even as he said it, wondered if there was any truth to the statement.
Making her way to the bookshelves that lined one side of the room, Rose noted they were full of one book.
“What an eclectic library,” she noted, as she pulled out a copy of the book. “Ah, signed. That’s tragic.”
Kind of inclined to agree with Rose, the Doctor said nothing.
Rose had a thought. “Did you sign the register?”
“You saw me, why?” asked the Doctor, slightly confused as to the sudden change in topic.
“Is that the legal bit? I think in all the fuss, I might have signed my own name,” Rose said as she half laughed and internally panicked. Had she actually just married this guy?
The Doctor really wasn’t sure he like where this was headed. “So?”
Rose looked down at the ring on her finger before she looked over at the Doctor who stared at his own ring. Right now their faces held the same shocked and panicked expression.
They were actually married.
Reinette opened the door to the small house she was near and snuck inside. She had been so hopeful that she’d finally be able to get married in peace today and it was ruined again. And now, she needed some way to get back to the castle without being seen.
She might have had two beauticians that followed her everywhere, but she knew more than enough to be able to hide, so when she entered the bedroom and saw the dresser, Reinette knew she had found exactly what she needed.
Standing outside the castle, Jack, with Donna beside him, addressed the press, “I can confirm that Reinette Poisson and ‘the Doctor’, John Smith were finally married today in a small, tasteful, private ceremony.”
The press started throwing questions at Jack and Donna, about the ceremony, guests, and where the honeymoon would be.
Jack smiled and said, “They will be leaving for a secret honeymoon destination in the morning. But as you can see, they will be spending the wedding night in that,” he pointed, “turret there. That window there is where the action is. Thank you.”
Soaking their feet in a foot spa that was a wedding present, Rose was enjoying some good wine when the Doctor said, “Don’t get the bottom of the dress wet.”
Rose felt slightly peeved and mock seductively said, “Want me to take it off?”
“You’re not married already are you? Cause I’m imagining that might be helpful,” the Doctor said, still trying to figure a way out of this marriage.
“No, I’m not,” replied Rose, waiting for the next unpleasant comment.
“No, I remember that. Not married, but still a world authority on romance in literature when not cruising toilets for men,” said the Doctor over the top of Rose, before taking a large swig of wine.
Rose sighed. “Parasite. Hope she’s made you sign a pre-nup.”
Reaching forward to poke at the cleavage on the dress, the Doctor tried to change the topic. “How’d they fit you into that dress?”
“She has,” said Rose, pleased to be right. “How does that work exactly? When you get divorced, does she get half of your unfinished books?”
The Doctor felt the need to stand up for his own integrity and said, “I am no parasite. I didn’t even live with Reinette until recently. She built me this gazebo in the grounds where I write.”
“She keeps you in a shed, at the bottom of the garden, like a tortoise,” said Rose, smugly. She thought the whole thing was funny.
Looking indignant, knowing she was right, the Doctor decided they were way past being nice and said, “Look, you’re what, early 30’s?”
“Twenty-seven, just,” replied Rose, slightly upset at his suggested age.
The Doctor, sensing he had an advantage, pressed on. “Still living with your mum?”
Rose would admit she was not happy about that fact, but accepted it and said, “I am living with my mother, temporarily, because she’s sick!”
“And what is it you do again? Are you president of this ‘Hegg book club’ or do you, just administer their medication?” asked the Doctor, waving around his bottle of wine.
“I, too, am a writer,” said Rose with a smug grin, before she took a drink.
Looking falsely curious, the Doctor asked, “A writer of what, exactly?”
Giving as good as she got, Rose responded with, “Of something that people actually read.”
“Do you write cereal packs?” he asked.
“Do you write your name over and over in the dirt in the back of trucks?” he suggested, with a smug look.
Rose realised he wouldn’t stop and sighed. “If you must know, I write for an online menswear catalogue. A trouser catalogue.”
The Doctor couldn’t help it and laughed at Rose.
“I don’t do it anymore,” she said, hoping he’d stop.
“What? Five pairs of brown trousers with elasticated waistbands, thirty pounds while stocks last, that kind of thing?” spouted the Doctor in a rush, as he pushed his advantage.
Rose, not prepared to let him win, added, “I have also written the official guide book to Hegg, which is more accurate than certain other accounts of life on the island.”
While he couldn’t argue the accuracy issue, the Doctor wasn’t going to let it go and sarcastically added, “That sounds fascinating.”
Out in the middle of what might have been a paddock, the two beauticians were looking for Reinette.
“Any news,” asked Jack over the radio. “Have you found her?”
The tall beautician replied, “Hello, this island is much bigger than you said, okay. Over.”
“Perhaps you’d like to do time in the San Quentin nail bar instead. Keep looking! Over. And Out!” replied Jack, back in the castle, as he rolled his eye and threw the radio away.
Donna, trying to help Jack relax, went to give him a shoulder rub but was told rather abruptly, “Later.”
Sometimes, she wasn’t sure why she bothered with Jack, but she loved working for Reinette and dealt with it anyway.
Jack flopped backwards in his chair as he asked rhetorically, “Where is she?
Back at the entrance of the castle, a disguised Reinette was making her way forward, listening to some reporters discussing what they’d be saying about her in the press. She reached the security man standing at the end of the bridge.
“Hello,” she said, using an English accent.
The security guard only saw her disguise and told her to move along. While Reinette was glad she couldn’t be recognised, she was a bit frustrated that she was unable to get inside. Turning to the reporters hanging around, Reinette asked, “Would you have a portable telephone that I could, perchance, borrow?”
“No reception, love,” he told her, before pointing, “Payphone in there.”
There happened to be the hastily constructed, and rather shoddy-looking, ‘Hegg Media Centre’. Reinette, confident her disguise would hold, headed inside the tent and asked for a ticket for the telephone.
Jackie, revelling in her discovery was waving around the cash she had gained from it, said, loud enough for the entire tent to hear, “Keep the triples coming, I’m buying!”
Minnie, having appeared beside Reinette, and slightly annoyed that Jackie had beaten them all to the find, said, “Look at her, flashing her cash about like the Sheik of Oman.”
Reinette stared at Jackie, wondering what she could do about her, while Minnie continued, “As if the story was hers to sell.”
Before Reinette had a chance to do anything, there was a disturbance at the front of the tent as a man, who happened to be the editor of the large celebrity magazine, walked in. “Hello, I’m ‘Stars Todays’ and I am here to buy copy for our Reinette Poisson wedding special.”
“Good luck mate,” said a reported off to the side. “It’s a total wash out. Nobody’s seen anything and there are no pictures.”
“Yeah, you mean you’ve got no pictures,” replied the editor, before confidently stating. “The Master will have pictures.”
Someone came up behind the editor, tapped him on the shoulder and pointed, “What, that Master?”
The editor walked over to the table where a drunken Master was slumped over and asked, “Do you have the photo?” When he got no response he shouted “Master!” and waited as the Master raised his head “Have you got the photo?”
The editor was worried when the Master, who was not entirely sure what he was so miserable about, said, “I have nothing.”
“What’s this nameless new book of yours about then?” asked Rose, having decided that she’d had enough of being picked on for her writing. “If it exists.”
The Doctor wasn’t really sure what it was about. Rose wasn’t far off when she questioned its existence, but he wasn’t going to let her know that. “It’s about the end of the world, as seen through the eyes of God.”
Rose thought that sounded like something someone who had a serious God complex might write, but kept that thought to herself. “Ohh, dear. Did no one tell you to write about what you know?” Before the Doctor could say anything Rose realised something. “She thinks you’re a genius, doesn’t she? And you’re trying to be one so you’re good enough to be with Reinette Poisson. But it’s left you totally blocked. Pathetic!”
Rather offended, but knowing she’s right, the Doctor hits back, “Still living with your mum, pretending to be a movie star, writing a guide book about an island no one will ever visit. That’s pathetic!”
Not so good at hiding what she’s feeling, Rose’s face fell into a mix of anger and sadness, but she didn’t say anything and the Doctor just watched her for a moment, feeling a little unsure.
“I’m, I’m going to open my presents now,” he said, getting up.
Rose took a bite of the cake and hoped they’d be able to leave soon.
In the ‘Hegg Media Centre’, Reinette felt it was time to have a word with the man who seemed to go out of his way to make her life a misery. “Ach, did you not get your picture?” she said to the slightly drunk Master.
“Do I know you?” the Master asked.
Reinette glances to the side, suddenly slightly less confident in her disguise, though it was extremely convincing, and said, “No, you don’t.”
The Master realised she was right; he didn’t know who the old woman was and. “No, I know only her,” and picked up his camera. “Did you know she lived in her pool for two weeks before she filmed the Drowning?”
Sitting down, Reinette took his camera and started looking through the images on it as he continued, “I lived above her in her pool house roof. We are both obsessive compulsive types, you know.”
“You did not sell these?” Reinette asked, surprised enough to slip back into her normal voice. She did not really understand why he had not, but she felt she had missed something about the Master.
“They are too personal and only now that she’s married someone else do I realise, I love her. I am a cavern of longingness.” He paused to think. “Is that good English?”
Reinette smiled and simply said, “Yes.”
The Master, who now felt free having admitted out loud how he felt about Reinette, decided it was time to go and get the woman he loved.
Of course, the fact that he was slightly drunk might have helped him decide it was a good idea to cross the lawn and dive into the moat and swim to the castle.
Holding a couple of DVD’s that appeared to be documentaries, Rose had to admit, “I don’t get it.”
Flopping down on the bed besides Rose, slightly drunk and carrying some very odd musical instrument, the Doctor said, “Reinette and I like big cat documentaries. Deal with it.”
Before Rose had a chance to come up with a reply, and really, she wondered, what could she say to that, the door to the room opened and a rather wet Master came in.
The Master looked between his rival, the Doctor, and Rose and tried to make sense of what he was seeing. “Where is Reinette?”
As he managed to get back to his feet, the Doctor almost yelled, “As if I’d tell you!”
Angry that not only had this bad author married Reinette, but he was cheating on her, the Master said, “Behind the back of the world’s most fascinating woman, you drink champagne and cavort with prostitutes!”
“I’m not a prostitute!” Rose said, before anything else could be said. She’d gotten rather tired of that assumption.
To stop it being repeated, she waved her ring finger and added, “I’m his wife.”
“She is,” the Doctor, frustrated that Rose had told the Master that, pointed at Rose, “a horrendous mistake!”
“You’ve failed again to marry Reinette. This is a much better match for you,” said the Master, gesturing to Rose. He was rather thrilled that the love of his life was still single.
The Doctor, on the other hand, was angry. His day had gone from brilliant to a complete disaster in the course of a few hours. His response to the Master’s last taunt wasn’t verbal but physical, as he launched himself towards the paparazzo. Rose backed away, prepared to let the fight happen without getting in the way. She felt like she’d had enough of being told she was in the way.
As one, both the Doctor and the Master noticed some weapons and leapt to the far wall. They both lunged for the swords hanging on the wall and grabbed a hilt each. Unfortunately for them, the swords were welded together mid-way along the blades.
That didn’t stop either of them from trying to gain control of them.
Finally having access to the telephone, Reinette placed a call to the Doctor’s mobile only to hear, “Hello, I’m sorry but I can’t take your call right now. If that’s Random House, I’ve had a succession of computer issues and an illness, but I’m doing really well and I’ll be mailing some chapters on the weekend.”
While Reinette left a message for the Doctor, the editor of ‘Stars Today’ was watching her on the phone, as he realised exactly who the old lady was.
As she left the phone booth he followed her and said, “Well, it looks like I might’ve hit on my very own Reinette Poisson exclusive.”
Rose was stood to the side of the room as she watched stuffed puffins fly past her face and ducked back when necessary. For two grown men, they were behaving like eight-year-olds fighting over their favourite toy. Which was apparently Reinette, who Rose suddenly didn’t envy so much.
“Are you going to fight like a man,” the Doctor yelled, “or just throw puffins at me?”
The Master hadn’t really planned on throwing puffins, they just happened to be at hand. As did the strange stringed instrument the Doctor was playing. He grabbed it and threw it like a Frisbee across the room, missing the Doctor, but hitting the wall.
It happened to take a chunk of the wall it hit and Rose noticed.. She went to check out what had happened to the wall, while the Doctor clambered over the bed to attack the Master directly.
“I will find her! And when I find her, I will have her!” the Master said as he rolled the Doctor backwards so he could clamber over him and out the door. The door, which he locked on his way out, letting the Doctor run into it in frustration.
Having discovered the wall was made of foam, Rose got the Doctor’s attention and peeled away a bit of wall. “Look.”
Moments later, the Doctor and Rose broke through the foam wall and started down some nearby stairs. Rose was thankful to finally be able to get out of that room, and hopefully soon, away from the Doctor. The Doctor was just desperate to get out there and start looking for Reinette, especially now that he knew the Master was out there too.
Reaching the lower floor of the castle, but not seeing another staircase nearby, the Doctor looked out the window, down towards the moat where he saw the pedal boat swan. He saw a way to get out of here and started looking through the room until he found a rope.
“What’re you doing?” asked Rose, not quite sure what the Doctor was planning, but wanting to know if it would get her out of the castle.
The Doctor thought it was obvious so answered sarcastically with, “Just nipping out for some milk.”
“Who d’you think you are, Tarzan?” asked Rose, feeling that annoyance coming back. This man was truly infuriating.
“Reinette’s good at climbing,” replied the Doctor.
Rose sighed; Reinette, good at everything. “Of course she is.”
The Doctor finished tying the rope to something sturdy and climbed out the window as he said sarcastically, “Well, it’s been an absolute pleasure.”
Not one to be left behind, Rose said, “Oh, I’m staying here am I? What makes your girlfriend more of a priority than my sick mum?”
Though he had to admit Rose might have a point, the Doctor wasn’t in the mood to listen and went with the first thing that popped into his head. “There might be wolves out there!”
“Wolves? There’s no wolves; we don’t even have bees. She might stand on a hedgehog! Which would be good actually, ‘cause we’re overrun,” Rose pointed out with a smile to herself at the image of Reinette Poisson standing on a hedgehog.
“Save it for the second edition of your dreary little guide book,” the Doctor said as he started down the rope. “If there is one.”
Rose waited approximately two seconds after the Doctor was out of sight before following. There’s no way she was hanging around here any longer than she had to.
“Right, wait there. I’m coming with you, I’m coming down,” she said as she started climbing out the window, which wasn’t easy given the dress she was wearing.
“The pedal boat’s full of water, you’ll get the bottom of the dress wet. I’m sure you’ll be released back into the community shortly,” the Doctor said, as he looked up at Rose to see her still climbing. “Get back inside. Goodbye!”
Struggling to back out the window without getting the dress caught, Rose muttered about, “Stupid nails,” as she realised she’d never tried climbing down a rope in her life. It wasn’t as easy as it looked. The dress got caught under the edge of the rope and her grip slipped.
The Doctor heard the splash and turned his head. Why did he always find the people who wouldn’t listen? Everyone always had somewhere else to be. He waited for Rose to surface.
Under the water, Rose was trying to swim to the surface but the weight of the dress, and the fact it had gotten caught on something, was making it difficult. She was beginning to panic.
When Rose hadn’t surface after almost a minute, the Doctor, worried about her, dived into the water to find her. When he did find her she wasn’t moving, nor could he seem to make her move. He tugged at the dress and started tearing it when he realised it was caught on an old bit of pipe.
As he dragged Rose to the edge of the moat, he hoped he wasn’t too late. He prepared himself to do CPR, but before he had too, Rose twisted her face to the side and started coughing up the water she’d swallowed. The Doctor hovered over her, only inches from her face and was relieved when she opened her eyes. He shook his head when he noticed she had nice eyes. ‘Really not the time or place,’ he thought.
Rose, realising what had happened and feeling a cold breeze across her legs, said the first thing she thought, “Don’t, look at my legs,” and as the Doctor glanced down at them, added, “Please.”
Managing a smile, the Doctor said, “You got the bottom of the dress wet.”
They lay there for a few moments, laughing a little and catching their breath.