Summary: The Doctor and Romana go to Martha's wedding.
Rated: G
Ships: Doctor/Romana, with a dash of Doctor/River and Doctor/Cameca.
Notes: I was complaining to Branwyn that I haven't been able to write anything for weeks, and she ordered me to write short, fluffy Ten/Romana in which they have just attended Martha's wedding, Romana was a bridesmaid, and Ten is collecting the rice.  Utter tweeness followed.


Wedding Traditions
by LizBee



"That was rather nice," said Romana, lingering outside the church as Martha and Tom climbed into the car that would take them to the reception.  "I thought human weddings involved a lot of chocolate and rope?"

"That was the Aztecs," said the Doctor, crouching at her feet.  "There was this one time--"

"Yes," Romana interrupted, "Professor Song told me all about it.  And you won't even think to invite me, that's the problem."  She smoothed her skirt -- dark purple satin, very pretty, all it needed was a green ribbon and maybe a nice big hat, but Martha had absolutely refused -- and considered the Time Lord now on his hands and knees in front of her.  "Doctor," she said, "what are you doing?  Aside from making a spectacle of yourself, I mean."

"Oh," he turned, raising himself onto one knee, "I'm collecting the rice."

"I did think it seemed like a rather wasteful tradition, given the resource-to-population ratio on this planet.  But you surely aren't thinking of using it as food?"

"No, no," said the Doctor quickly, "and Martha was dead set against rice, only her auntie is sort of a traditionalist and never listens, I thought she might have a bit of Judoon in her, only Francine slapped me when I asked--"

"The rice, Doctor," said Romana.  People were beginning to stare.  The Judoon aunt prominent among them.

"Right, the rice.  See, in Roman times, and we should swing by the first century, because the parties were great, although maybe not while Caligula's ... anyway, they used to throw wheat, and girls would collect the grains that bounced off the bride."

He stopped, reaching for a grain of rice by Romana's foot.

"Yes," she said, mustering all the patience that had gotten her through Gallifreyan high politics right up until the day she'd snapped, lost her temper, and lost the presidency shortly after, "but what's the point?" 

"Marriage," said the Doctor.  Romana considered aiming a swift kick at his head.  He might have read her mind, because he said quickly, "if you could collect the wheat, it meant you'd get married soon."  He grabbed Romana's hand and tipped a load of dirty rice into it.  "Now," he said, "if Francine's not looking, I think we have time to grab a hot chocolate before the reception."

end