#but now i think it’ll be at ava’s instead of a restaurant

[tani-b-art]

Ava to Janine: What’s it like to date you?

[ladyliuwho]

Out of the Woods

An ACOTAR AU set around the same time as ACOFAS. Azriel is in the rainbow district looking for a solstice present for Feyre. He runs into an interesting girl who introduces him to her musical theater friends. Az finds himself coming back to them again and again in his free time. With them, something unlocks inside of him that lets him truly be himself. In ways that he didn’t know that he could be.

Chapter 1

Azriel was walking the streets of the rainbow by himself.  If he didn’t need to find a solstice present for Feyre, he probably wouldn’t be here at all. While the rainbow was beautiful, it was too much for him on his own. Too loud, too bright. Not enough shadows to hide in, though that didn’t stop him from finding them. He was thinking about going home when he bumped into her.

“Excuse me. I’m sorry.” He said politely to the female he had run into. They both knelt down to pick up the spilled contents of her bag. It was mostly loose sheets of paper.

“No, it was definitely my fault. My friends are always telling me I need to pay more attention. I really should listen to them more.” She was rambling. Az suspected that she could’ve gone on forever if she hadn’t looked up at him. He thought maybe she was going to go star-struck. He was the High Lord of Night’s shadowsinger after all. They’d all seen him fight during the attack on the city. Instead, she simply said, “nice wings,” and stuffed the last of her papers back into her bag. “Can I get you a drink, as an apology for bumping into you? Or even a thank you for helping me with my stuff?”

Az thought about it for a second then shrugged his shoulders, “Sure.” It wasn’t like he had anything important to do today. It would be a few days before he would hear back from his contact in the Illyrian camps. He could spare a few moments to indulge this odd female. He studied her more closely as he followed her down the streets. Her outfit was surprisingly simple for someone in the rainbow. A plain blue sweater and black leggings under a thick grey overcoat. Her light brown hair was pulled back in a messy braid. He could see her ears were red from the cold. She led him to a small café on the corner of a street.

A wave of warmth and music greeted them as she opened the door. A tall male with long blonde hair tied back at the nape of his neck called to her, “Ava returns!” She gave him a mocked bow. The male turned back to the music. Az recognized the song as one from a musical Feyre had dragged them to a few weeks ago. Something about a revolution in the human world.

Ava pointed him to a small table with two chairs in the middle of the room. He took the seat that gave him the best view of the group. A round woman came to take their order. Az ordered tea while the girl ordered molten chocolate. Ava shrugged out of her coat leaving it to rest on the back of her chair.

“So, what is the High Lord’s shadowsinger doing in the middle of the rainbow?” Ava finally asked.

“You know who I am?” Azriel wasn’t sure why he was surprised. Everyone knew who the inner circle was. If they hadn’t before the attack a few months ago, they definitely did now.

Ava scoffed, “Everyone in this room knows who you are. You’re just lucky to be surrounded by the few people in Velaris who don’t fall on their knees in thanks whenever we see a member of the court.”

“Now, now Ava, you make us sound ungrateful.” The blonde male had come to stand behind Ava as she spoke.

“No, just that we believe in treating him like any other person off of the street.” She leaned back in her chair. “Unless you have an objection to that?” The tone in her voice made it sound more like a challenge than a question.

He didn’t, he missed the days when the people of Velaris treated him like any other citizen. Now he couldn’t go to any shop or restaurant without the proprietors insisting that he not pay for their goods. “The songs you are singing, they sound familiar, do you perform at one of the theaters?” He asked.

Ava and the blonde male howled with laughter, “Cauldron no!” Ava finally barked out. “Just a couple of aspiring actors not quite good enough to take the stage.”

The round woman came back with their drinks. “And yet you insist on bringing your noise to my café.”

“You know you would miss us if we were gone!”

“Like an animal misses a thorn in its paw.” The two friends began laughing again, Azriel felt a smile tugging on his lips.

The blonde male turned to Ava, “We’re going to head to the theater, are you going to come with us?”

She looked at Azriel, “When I am done here.” We watched in silence as her friends filed out of the café.

“I thought you didn’t perform in theaters.” He said to her.

“We don’t,” Azriel was now thoroughly confused, “There is a private theater that was abandoned after the attack. We use it to rehearse or just have fun.” Ava took a sip of her drink. “You still haven’t told me why you’re in the rainbow.”

“Do I have to have a reason? Maybe I was just enjoying the scenery.” He bit back.

Ava chuckled, “If you had any of the other members of the court with you, maybe I’d believe you. No one ever sees you out here without the High Lady or her sister.”

Az couldn’t argue with that. He’d just been thinking that same thought before he’d stumbled upon this interesting character.

With her drink finished, Ava stood and dropped some money on the table. “Well, it was nice bumping into you.” She said with a wink as she pulled on her coat.

Azriel watched as she made her way to the door. He wasn’t sure what made him say it, but he blurted out, “Can I come with you? To see your theater, I mean.”

Ava shrugged, “Everyone is welcome. I’ll warn you it’s just a bunch of theater nobodies without a lick of talent between them. I’m not responsible for any damages.” With that, she turned and walked away from Azriel, not even pausing to see if he was behind her.

She walked quicker than she had when she was leading him to the café. They passed galleries and dance studios until they came across some of the more scarred streets of the rainbow. They finally stopped in front of a building that was lucky to still be standing. The white stucco hadn’t been cleaned, it still held the stains of the fires that had licked eagerly up the wall. The door was intact but blacked like it had been roasted over a fire for too long. Ava pushed it gently aside. When Azriel passed by it he noticed that it might very well fall off. One of the hinges was completely gone, the other looked like it was barely anchored to the wall.

They walked into the entry room, it was very simple compared to the other theaters in Velaris. The fire hadn’t breached the door, so the furnishings were dusty but in good condition. The velvet curtains separating us from the theater were parted enough that Az could see a sliver of what he thought might be sunlight. His suspicion was confirmed when Ava pushed the curtains aside, revealing that the roof of the theater had collapsed onto the seats.

He realized the auditorium was empty, “Aren’t your friends supposed to be here?”

Ava had begun walking down the main aisle to the stage. “Oh, they probably stopped at a shop on the way here. We always have an eye out for a costume piece or prop.”

As they got closer to the stage, Az surveyed the damage. Most of the debris had stayed in the middle of the auditorium, leaving the stage and front row mostly untouched. He stopped to study a slab of the ceiling, it had been some kind mural. What was left of a winged baby playing the harp was the sign of what the painting might be.

“What happened here?” He mentally smacked himself for asking. Of course, he knew what happened here.

“Same thing as everywhere else. One of the monsters crashed through the roof. That’s where most of the damage stops. One of the buildings next door caught fire, the flames had already started to jump over here when they finally put it out.” Ava was sitting on the stage looking wistfully on the remains. “It was an older couple that owned this. The wife was killed in the attack and the husband just doesn’t have the funds to fix it. But he also doesn’t have the heart to sell it either.”

“How did you guys end up coming here?”

“We used to come here to watch the shows put on by a small troupe. Now we come here to practice or just have fun. We tried to pay the owner at first but, he refused. He said that he was glad we could find joy in a place that had become so heartless to him.” She pulled her legs up and rested her chin on her knees. “When he dies, his children will probably sell it to someone who has the money to tear it down.”

“And then where will you go?”

She thought awhile before answering, “Hopefully by then we will all have gotten our big break. Jax has been working on a screenplay so, who knows, maybe it’ll be what we need to take us all out of here.”

It was odd for Azriel to think of Velaris being a place of equal opportunity. It was called the City of Dreams after all. It hadn’t occurred to him that there were still people who wouldn’t have their dreams realized no matter how hard they worked at them.

He noticed Ava was studying him, waiting for him to say something else. “How long have you been doing this?”

“I’ve only been acting for a few years. My main focus used to be singing. The others have been at it for much longer.” Voices drifted from behind the velvet curtains.

Azriel shook his head, it was like this place had put him in a trance. The sky outside had started to change with the setting sun. He said as much to Ava as he stood and offered her a hand.

She took it to stand but, didn’t immediately let go of it. “You’re welcome to come back if you’d like. I know the others would love an excuse to put together a performance.”

“I’ll think about it.” And with that Azriel took flight and flew through the hole in the ceiling. He looked down in time to see Ava’s friends from the café pass through the curtains. One of them was starring at him with an open mouth. He chuckled to himself. At least that still got a reaction.

 A/N  This is based on a random thought I had one day. I was a really shy kid and never really let anyone see who I was. And in some ways, I still am. But when I took theater classes, I became a completely different person. I thought it’d be fun to give Azriel something similar. Also, this is my first attempt at fanfic so, let me know what you think, and if you want this story continued.

[singledarkshade]

Replaced

Summary: Rory Williams and Sara Lance find they've been replaced and their loved ones have no idea who they are. Through pure chance they run into one another and, as the enemy of my enemy is my friend, team up. They need to save the people they love and stop whoever has done this to them but first have to learn to trust one another and work together. Author’s Note: This was basically written for one exchange. Hope you enjoy.                                ********************************************* The rain had finally stopped, much to Rory’s relief, since he was only wearing a light jacket thanks to the Doctor bypassing August all together. It had been a fun few months running through time and space, but it was nice to get back to reality for a while.

Walking for the bus, since the Doctor dropped him off at the hospital and his car was at the house, Rory mused over what to get Amy for her birthday next week. He jumped when someone walked into him, not noticing the coin being slipped into his pocket.

“Watch it,” the man snapped before disappearing into the crowd.

Shaking his head Rory caught the bus, lost in thought which meant he almost missed his stop. Getting off the bus, Rory wandered the few blocks towards home hoping Amy had picked up something easy to cook otherwise it would be toast for dinner. As much as he loved her, Rory could not stomach her cooking. He’d seen a film once where one of the characters said they believed that ‘All Scottish cuisine is based on a dare’ and Rory sometimes felt Amy took that as a recommendation.

Reaching the house, Rory grimaced, remembering that he’d left his keys in the TARDIS. That was also the Doctor’s fault, he’d gone into a ramble about something Rory stopped listening to two sentences in, but it meant he got distracted and didn’t go back to the room.

Hoping Amy wasn’t upstairs listening to music, he hit the doorbell and waited.

The door opened and Amy appeared, frowning at him. She pressed her hand on his shoulder stopping him before he was able to walk inside.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Amy snapped, shoving him away.

Managing to steady himself and not fall backwards off the step, Rory said, “Coming into our house.”

Amy let out a snort of derision, “Wrong house. Go sleep it off, pal.”

Confused and worried he started, “Amy…”

“How do you know my name?” she snapped, before yelling, “Rory!!”

Even more confused Rory took a step forward only to stall when a man appeared at Amy’s side, good-looking with great hair and looked like he spent every waking hour at the gym. The kind of man Rory used to think Amy would end up marrying.

“I’ll deal with this,” he said, leaning in and kissing Amy’s cheek as Rory’s hands fisted.

Amy glanced at Rory for a second before flouncing away.

“Who the hell are you?” Rory snarled, his fingers twitching for his sword, “And what do you want?”

The man laughed and shrugged, “I’m Rory Williams.”

“You have no idea what you’re dealing with,” Rory said through gritted teeth, “Get away from my wife.”

“You mean my wife,” the man smirked, “And before you try to eject me from my lovely new home, I suggest you look behind you.”

Rory slowly turned and saw several people standing, all wearing black robes. They suddenly all began converging on him and, knowing he had no other choice, Rory ran slamming his shoulder into one of them to get through. Racing along the street he knew he needed to find a safe place to contact the Doctor or River and just hoped that Amy was safe until he managed to.

Rory ducked feeling the whistle of air above him as the man swung the bat at him. Using a move taught to him by his daughter, Rory slammed his foot into his assailant’s knee. The man went down, and Rory started to run again. He was exhausted, after a full day working in the hospital, he’d been on the run for about an hour. Life with the Doctor prepared you for extreme situations, and Rory had military training (in a way), but he still needed time to rest.

He had to call the Doctor, but whoever these people were, they kept appearing no matter where he went. Rory thought about contacting UNIT but dismissed the idea quickly because if Amy didn’t know him it was likely that something had happened here which would probably have affected them too. The Doctor or River were his best options.

Throwing himself around another corner, he pulled out his phone and quickly dialled. Surprised when one of the men appeared, knocking the phone from his hand. His mobile sailed through the air into the road and was crushed under a bus.

Cursing Rory pushed past his attacker, seeing a bus (the same one that crushed his phone) stop just a few feet from him. Rory ran, managing to get on and show his ticket relieved that the doors closed before any of those who had been chasing him could catch it.

Rory fell into a seat.

Now he had to work out what to do next.

                                 *********************************************

 It was a nice evening as Sara Lance sauntered towards the hotel where she was meeting Ava. She’d spent the past few days at a spa, a treat the guys had given her for her birthday, relaxing and being pampered. She was now looking forward to having dinner with her girlfriend, then spending the night at the hotel, before getting back to work. Ava was in London to meet a group that had a connection to aliens, who Sara had never heard of, but it gave them an excuse to have a night away.

Sara hummed softly to herself, surprised when someone bumped her, not noticing the coin being slipped in her pocket, she continued to the restaurant and smiled as she saw her girlfriend sitting waiting for her. Although still wearing her Time Bureau suit, her long hair was falling around her shoulders which Sara always loved.

Walking towards the table, she stalled when a brunette woman appeared at the table beside Ava who smiled and kissed her.

“What the hell?” Sara demanded, “Ava?”

Ava frowned, “Can I help you?”

Confused Sara stared at her, “Ava, is this some kind of game I’m meant to know about.”

Her girlfriend looked at the brunette, “Sara, is this one of your friends or have the idiots changed the timeline again?”

“What?” Sara blinked trying to work out what the hell was happening.

The brunette rested her hand on Ava’s shoulder, “Let me deal with this. We’ll order room service instead.”

Before Sara could do anything, Ava left and the brunette turned to her and smiled.

“You have ten seconds to talk,” Sara snarled, “And then…”

“Before you threaten me,” the brunette chuckled cutting her off, “You might want to make sure you know what you’re up against.”

Sara glanced around seeing everyone in the restaurant were wearing robes and surrounding her.

“Best not to fight,” the brunette said, “It’ll hurt less.”

“You don’t know me then,” Sara snapped before she swung and hit the other woman. Several people rushed at her and Sara ran.

All of a sudden there were several of the robed attackers surrounding her. Running to find a safe place to activate the courier someone ran into her.

“Sorry,” a man said, his hands on her shoulders to help steady her.

Sara looked up at him and stared in astonishment, “Rip?”

“What?” he asked before grimacing, “I have to go.”

Sara glanced round and saw her friends coming for her, the man who looked exactly like Rip had a look of panic on his face as more appeared.

“They’re after you too,” Sara realised starting them moving.

Rip’s lookalike nodded.

“I have a way out,” she told him, “We just need to get far enough away from them so they can’t follow.”

He stared at her, “Why would you help me?”

“Enemy of my enemy,” she noted, “Are you in?”

He nodded, “I have no other choice.”

“Then run,” Sara ordered, “And keep up with me.”

“Running I can do.”

 Rory knew how to run these days, you had to if you spent any time with the Doctor, so he ran alongside the blonde woman he was trusting for some reason. He glanced at her and saw she was tapping her watch, as they ran through the park.

“We’re far enough away,” she called, “Just keep going.”

Rory did as he was told before he staggered to a stop when the open park became woodland. Turning to look where he’d come from Rory saw a shimmering arc showing the park that he’d been in for a second before it disappeared, and the woodland took its place.

The blonde let out a sigh of relief and dropped to sit on a nearby log, “Hopefully that should give us some time.”

“Where are we?” Rory demanded as he took a proper look around, “What just happened? Who were they? Who are you?”

“I was going to ask you a few of the same questions,” she replied before introducing herself, “I’m Sara Lance.”

“Rory Williams,” he reciprocated, grimacing at her penetrating look, “What?”

Sara winced, “Sorry, you just really look like someone I used to know.”

“I’m not,” Rory said shortly, “What about my other questions? What was that and where the hell are we?”

“Let’s just call it a transportation door,” Sara told him evasively.

Rory decided not to ask any more on that and looked around, “And where are we?”

Standing up, Sara brushed the dirt off her jeans, “If I’m right then about a ten-minute walk from someone who can help us. I hope.”

“That isn’t helping me stay calm,” Rory noted annoyed before he sighed, “But it looks like I have no choice.”

Sara gave him a smile and a pat on the arm, “Come on.”

She started walking along the path on her right and Rory sighed, he had to hope that Amy was safe until he could get back to her.

“Hold on,” Rory called chasing after Sara. Catching up with her, he asked, “So who is this guy we’re going to ask for help?”

 John batted away an imaginary fly from his head, his mouth was dry, and he felt like someone had kicked him in the head. That was the last time he drank moonshine that bloody wizard had brewed.

He had a vague memory of karaoke before getting chucked out of the pub. Twice.

Groaning as he forced himself to sit up, John rubbed a hand over his face wincing at his headache and managing to get up. Staggering across to the small cool box he kept for emergencies, he opened it and found a bottle of water. He finally managed to open it and quickly downed the entire thing.

If he had been on the Waverider he would have asked Gideon to detox him which even with the lecture would be worth it.

He’d decided to come back to the Mill House for the few days the Waverider was berthed in the Time Bureau while Sara had her spa weekend. Mostly because he did not want to be stuck on board with the idiots when they had no mission to keep them occupied. Besides he had to check up on some things that had been sitting alone longer than he had originally intended.

As he made himself some coffee, John grimaced when the proximity alarm began to sound. John sighed, he could not be bothered with someone trying to attack him just now. The headache was pounding in his right eye, and John knew if he had to defend himself with magic there was no way he could conjure a spark never mind a fireball. Reaching the door, he frowned in confusion to see an unknown woman standing with a guy who looked like…

“Rip?”

“Not again,” the man groaned.

“John,” the woman said, “We need your help.”

He held up his hand stopping her, “No idea who you are, love.”

She let out an annoyed sigh, “I’m Sara,” at his confused look she clarified, “Lance.”

John started to laugh, “Good try, but you look nothing like her and I’m not in the mood for a joke.”

“Constantine,” the woman snapped stepping forward and hitting the shield surrounding the house.

John jumped as she changed to the woman she claimed to be for a few seconds before she fell backwards onto her ass.

Rip’s lookalike helped her off the ground as John focused on him.

“You wouldn’t want to try that, would you mate?” John asked.

The man frowned at him, “No.”

John mused for a moment, “Alright, you can come in and we’ll sort this out. But believe me just because I’m letting you inside all the security measures are not off.”

 Rory followed Sara inside the house they’d found in the middle of nowhere, frowning as he felt that the inside was bigger than the outside. It had a TARDIS like feel in some ways which concerned him because Rory knew that the other Time Lords were dead.

Unfortunately, he had no other choice because he knew if whoever was chasing him caught up with them, it would be the worst outcome.

Finally, they reached a large room filled with books, artefacts, a fireplace with a large mirror over it that Rory did not want to look in and a couch that looked as though it had seen better days.

“Alright,” John said to them, “Stand in front of the couch and don’t move.”

“Why?” Sara demanded.

He stared at her hard, “If there is a spell on you then I need to break it,”

John glanced down, Rory followed his line of sight and saw they were both inside a faint chalk outline.

“And the shield that you’re standing in will fry you if you try to step outside the line before I remove it,” John told them.

Rory knew his eyes widened in panic, he turned to Sara who looked concerned which didn’t comfort him any.

“And your spell to remove whatever means you can’t see me,” Sara said, “Is it safe?”

John shrugged and tossed a handful of what smelled like the mixed herbs Amy would put on pizza. Rory listened to the words being murmured, not sure if the instant translation was from the TARDIS or because he used to speak Latin. Rory jumped when a wall of light surrounded them quickly before disappearing and John stared at them.

“Okay, looks like I was wrong.”

 Sara took the mug John handed her relieved that he could see she was herself. The strange thing was the Rip lookalike, Rory, still looked like Rip and it was beginning to weird her out big time.

“Okay,” John took a seat, rubbing the back of his neck, “Why don’t you both tell me what happened?”

Drinking her coffee, Sara listened to Rory describe being jumped by the same people who had been chasing her and how his wife hadn’t recognised him thinking some strange man was Rory, before Sara gave her story which was almost exactly the same.

“Do either of you have any idea who these people are?” John asked thoughtfully.

Rory shook his head, “I’ve never seen them before in my life.”

They both turned to Sara who shrugged, “Me neither.”

“Well, this is a lot of help,” John sighed frustrated.

“Look I know we need to work this out,” Rory spoke up, “But some stranger is with my wife pretending to be me.”

“He won’t be able to do anything intimate to her,” John assured before adding, “Don’t get me wrong he probably would but unless they have you in custody then she’d know immediately it’s not you if he tries to get too close.”

Rolling her eyes, Sara punched John’s shoulder.

“What?” he demanded.

“That was not what he needed to hear,” Sara snapped at him, turning to Rory she soothed, “He can’t do anything to her. Focus on that.”

Rory grimaced, “I’ll try.”

“You look like you could use a shower and a change of clothes,” John told him.

Sighing Rory nodded, “And several hours sleep. I just got off my shift and it’s been a long day compounded by the time travel we did to get here.”

“Time travel?” Sara asked innocently.

“It was about 7pm when we ran into one another,” Rory stated blandly, “But from the newspaper on the table and the time, going with the clock in here as well as the position of the sun as we walked here, then we are in Georgia in America around 10am. If I remember right, the UK is 5 or 6 hours ahead of Georgia so that means we somehow jumped backward or forward a few hours.”

Sara and John stared at him.

“You seem pretty relaxed about that,” John noted.

Rory let out a sigh rubbing his eyes tiredly, “Honestly this is not unusual for my life.”

“We can put that on hold for now,” John told him, “Follow me and you can get freshened up then I’ll get us all breakfast.”

Sara watched Rory tiredly follow John out the room, still trying to work out why Rory looked so much like Rip. She was wondering if it could be another Phil situation, that had happened because he touched the time core and that was what he’d used against Mallus.

It was possible that his memory had been reset again and he met someone in this new guise he’d married. The time travel thing was possibly a vague memory, similar to when Phil wrote his movie. Except…

Phil thought everything in his script was a dream and made-up, but Rory had been completely unfazed by time travel not to mention his ease at deducing where they were.

Sara sighed; this was another thing they needed to work out.

 John showed Rory to a room where he could have a shower and freshen up, leaving him some clean clothes that would hopefully fit him. The poor guy looked exhausted and worried so while he took some time to rest a little, John knew he had to start researching what had happened to make him and Sara unrecognisable to their loved ones.

“You okay?” John asked as he found Sara sitting finishing her coffee.

Sara sighed, “Confused.”

“Anything specific, love or just generally,” John asked as he started scanning his books.

“Is Rory Rip?”

John glanced round at her and shook his head, “No.”

“You’re sure about this?” Sara demanded, “Because he looks just like him. The accent might be different, but Phil was American.”

“Because you recognised him,” John explained, “If he was Rip then the spell you two are under means we wouldn’t recognise him.”

Sara found confused, “Are you…how…”

“The spell transfers your identity to someone else and ensures anyone who knows you can’t see you as yourself,” John reminded her, “You wouldn’t recognise him if he was Rip.”

“But if he doesn’t know he’s Rip, it wouldn’t work,” Sara argued before asking, “Would it?”

Rolling his eyes John turned back to his books, “Just trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”

She fell silent and John continued to pull out books.

It was going to be a long day.

                                 *********************************************

 Rory closed his eyes as he let the warm water batter down on him. He was exhausted and worried because his phone had been destroyed so he couldn’t send a message to the Doctor or River to check up on Amy. Rory also didn’t know if he could completely trust his new acquaintances, who both thought he was someone else, since they also seemed to know about time travel as well as use it. And the talk of spells worried him too. The memories that he’d gained in the two thousand years included vague ones of sorcerers, but he didn’t remember having anything other than fleeting interactions with them.

Getting out the shower, he quickly dried himself before dressing in the clothes John had left for him. Closing his eyes, Rory tried to draw on all the military training he had, through the random occurrences that came from travelling with the Doctor, to keep himself calm and composed and to keep his worry about Amy in check.

Rory folded his clothes and left them on the bed, he grabbed his jacket to get his first aid kit, confused to find a strange looking silver coin in his pocket. It was about the same size as a ten pence piece with an odd pattern on one side only. He studied the pattern recognising it but not sure what it was, it was a vague memory from his time as the centurion.

Tucking his kit in his pocket, Rory headed out the room to rejoin the others, relieved to see John had left post-it notes with arrows guiding him the right way. From what he’d seen he did not want to be wandering around this place. Walking back into the room, he found Sara sitting staring at a book while John was bouncing about pulling other ones out.

“Feeling better?” Sara asked, looking up as he joined them.

Rory nodded, “Yeah but I found something odd.”

John turned, “Odd?”

Pulling out the coin Rory handed it to him, “I found it in my jacket pocket, and I know it wasn’t there earlier when I left the hospital.”

Flipping it over as he studied it, John frowned.

“What?” Sara asked at his expression.

John chewed his lip for a moment, grabbing one of the books he flipped through before looking up at Sara, “Check if you have one of these.”

With a frown Sara checked all her pockets and pulled out an identical coin. She placed it on the table in front of John.

Rory studied it seeing it was exactly the same as his.

“I have one idea, but it is a bit of a long shot,” John told them as he continued to flip through the book.  He motioned Rory without looking up and asked, “You wouldn’t happen to have died at some point?”

Rory winced before replying with a shrug, “Once or twice.”

John and Sara both slowly turned to look at him.

“You know that’s a question usually answered with no,” Sara stared at him.

Sighing Rory shrugged, “It’s a long story. Or several long stories.”

“Well,” John took a seat and looked at him intently, “Tell them fast and keep it to the relevant details.”

Taking a seat, Rory shrugged, “Well…”

“Hold on,” Sara said cutting him off, “Rory, you said they found you wherever you went.”

He nodded.

Sara turned to John picking up one of the coins, “Is that what these are for?”

John’s eyes widened, “Bollocks.”

“What?” Rory asked.

“If they’re using this to keep tabs on us then it’s possible that they know we’re here,” Sara told him.

Rory rubbed his eyes, “How good is your security system?”

“Good but,” John grimaced, “From what you’ve told me of these guys then even if they’re not strong there are a lot of them so we could be overwhelmed.”

“Do you have any other ideas?” Rory asked.

Sara folded her arms, she chewed her lip in thought, “Will the spell affect Gideon?”

John mused for a moment before shaking his head, “When it comes to Gideon, I wouldn’t be too sure of anything but it’s unlikely.”

“Then we head to the ship,” Sara told him, “We get it locked down so no one can get onboard then we can work out what’s happening and what we’re going to do.”

John nodded before the both turned to Rory.

He shrugged, “If you think it’s a safe place then let’s go.”

“Alright,” John said, “Sara, grab all the books off the table, there’s a bag in the cupboard. Rory, help me with the chest. It’s got everything I might need to break the spell.”

Rory gave a nod and helped him pick up an old wooden chest, carrying it over to where Sara was finishing packing the bag.

An alarm sounded and John swore.

“Get us to the ship when you know it was empty,” John told Sara, “We can’t afford to run into one of the team when you don’t look like yourself. I only broke the spell for me.”

Sara nodded and began to tap on her watch which Rory felt was a slightly fancier looking vortex manipulator, it seemed to do the same thing in a slightly different fashion. The portal opened and Rory saw a room in front of him, clean smooth lines it was brightly lit and looked futuristic. It reminded him of the space station they had been on a few months ago. Before Rory could take any time to contemplate where he was going, John grabbed one end of the chest, so Rory automatically took the other and they headed through the portal.

 “Welcome back, Captain Lance,” Gideon said as she stepped onboard making Sara sigh in relief. “Welcome back, Mr Constantine,” the AI continued before she stopped and in a steely tone stated, “That is not Captain Hunter.”

Sara caught John’s eye, that answered that question.

“This is Rory Williams,” Sara introduced, “Rory, meet Gideon. She’s the AI that runs the ship.”

To Sara’s surprise Rory simply nodded, “Cool,” before he glanced up in the same way she and John did, “It’s nice to meet you, Gideon.”

“And you, Mr Williams,” the pleasant tone returned, “I apologise for my earlier greeting. You resemble…”

“Someone you know,” Rory finished for her, “I got that.”

“Gideon,” Sara said as she slid into the pilot’s seat, “We need to go somewhere safe none of the team or the Time Bureau know about, and I need you to make sure no one can enter the ship using the Time Courier as well.”

“Of course, Captain Lance,” Gideon replied, “I can take you to a haven that no one will know of. If Mr Constantine and Mr Williams will take their seats we can leave immediately.”

John hustled Rory to one of the chairs and showed him how to fix the restraint. As Gideon started the engines Sara hoped that they could fix this because she had no idea what to do if they couldn’t.

Sara watched as they entered the time stream and exited into a large expanse of space into the orbit of a moon orbiting a red planet.

“Where are we, Gideon?” she asked.

“This is one of Captain Hunter’s refuges,” Gideon explained, “Used only in certain circumstances. No one ever knew of it and it is doubtful that he would allow knowledge of this place to anyone within the Time Bureau.”

“Why?” John asked.

“This is where he and Miranda Coburn would come when they were hiding their relationship from the Time Master to be alone,” Gideon stated.

Sara nodded, “You’re right, this is somewhere he wouldn’t have shared with anyone.”

“Then we’re safe here?” Rory asked.

Sara nodded as she released herself and turned to see the two men undoing their restraints.

“You may…” she started, trailing off as Rory stood and appeared to have no ill-effects from his first trip in the Waverider, “Never mind.”

“So, what do we now?” Rory asked.

Sara looked at him and could see he was just as exhausted as he had been before his shower, to be honest she was feeling the need to rest for a while too.

“We take the next four hours to sleep,” Sara told him, “You need it and so do I. John, if you can start working on breaking the spell and we can pick up on anything else once we’ve slept.”

Rory sighed, “I can’t sleep until I can find a way to contact someone to protect Amy.”

“If you know a phone number, Mr Williams,” Gideon spoke up, “I can contact whoever you need to talk to.”

Sara saw relief fill Rory’s eyes but also could see he didn’t want to contact whoever it was in front of them.

“I’ll show you to a room,” Sara said, knowing Gideon would warn her of anything in his call that was a danger to them “You can call whoever you need to there.”

 John dragged the chest he’d brought into the parlour, waiting until he was sure Sara and Rory had left the bridge.

“I’m sorry, Gideon,” he apologised as he grabbed the bag filled with his books, “I didn’t get a chance to warn you about Rory.”

Silence answered him for a few moments before Gideon replied, “It is fine, Mr Constantine. I merely required a few seconds to process the anomalous data.”

John smiled slightly, “Rory does look uncannily like him.”

“Yes,” Gideon said softly, “I thought for a moment that he had returned to us.”

The hologram flickered on and instead of the blue head she showed most people, the human form Gideon used only on certain occasions appeared before him. This allowed him to see the sadness in her eyes, the loss she only showed to him because Rip’s son had called him ‘Uncle John’.

“You still believe that Rip is out there somewhere?” John asked, even though he knew the answer.

Gideon smiled slightly, “Rip Hunter has been ‘dead’ numerous times. There was no body and he once used the time core to scatter himself. There is a chance that he has been sent though time. And if so, then I will find him.”

John smiled at her, “I don’t doubt it. But first we need to work out who came after Sara and Rory, as well as what they want.”

Gideon’s hologram disappeared and John took the hint, he had to get to work. Looking at the pile of books in front of him, he sighed. The headache from his hangover was still plaguing him and relief filled him when Gideon asked.

“Would you like to be detoxed?”

 Rory stepped into the room, nodding thanks to Sara who gave him a quick smile before leaving him to rest. As the doors closed Rory let out a long sigh and he dropped to sit on the bed.

“I can try to contact the person you wish to speak with,” Gideon said, making him jump as he’d forgotten about her.

“Thank you,” he stuttered.

He took a deep breath and rhymed off the number from memory. Rory paced the small room as he waited for it to connect, praying whatever had happened hadn’t affected her too.

“Hello?” the familiar voice came, interest in it that she’d received a call from an unknown number.

“River,” Rory said, “It’s me.”

“Rory?” a smile filled her voice, “This is unusual.”

Rory grimaced as he realised that she was right but just now was not the time to think about it, “I know but I need your help.”

“Anything,” River said instantly.

Relief filled him, “I can’t explain everything, mostly because I don’t know or understand most of it, but I need you to go to the house and look after Amy.”

“What happened to her?”

“Nothing,” Rory assured, “But there is someone there she believes to be me. It’s a long story, River.”

“Rory…”

“Listen,” he cut her off, “I don’t know if whatever is affecting Amy will affect you too when you get there so you need to find a way to remind yourself that he isn’t me and why you’re there.”

Silence filled the room for a second and Rory wondered if the line had cut off.

Finally, River spoke again, “Are you safe?”

“I am,” Rory promised, “I’m with people who can hopefully help stop whoever these people are. But for me to do that I need to know Amy is safe.”

“Okay, as long as you’re sure,” she said, “I’ll look after Amy.”

Relieved, Rory let out a sigh, “One more thing, don’t contact the Doctor. I don’t know if he’s the target but why else would they come after me except to get to him.”

“Be careful, father,” River said softly.

Rory nodded even though she couldn’t see him, “I will. And I’ll contact you again as soon as I can.”

“The line has now been severed,” Gideon told him.

Sighing Rory slid the jacket off and threw it over the nearby chair, pushing his shoes off before he dropped onto the bed.

Closing his eyes, he fell asleep instantly.

                                 *********************************************

 Sara lay on her back staring at the ceiling, she’d managed to nap and felt refreshed. She wanted to walk onto the bridge and John tell her that he knew what was happening.

Part of her was disappointed that Gideon had confirmed that Rory was definitely not Rip. She hoped he would appear, having somehow survived the explosion of the Time Core.

Taking a slow breath Sara got up and had a quick shower, feeling a little better when her hair was washed, and she was wearing clean clothes.

“Gideon,” she called as she left her room.

“Yes, Captain Lance,” Gideon replied.

Heading to the galley she asked, “Where are the other two?”

“Mr Constantine is in the parlour,” Gideon told her, “He is concentrating on specific books at the moment and may have an idea on what has happened.”

“That’s good,” Sara breathed, entering the galley to get some coffee, “And Rory?”

“Mr Williams is still asleep,” Gideon reported.

Taking a sip, she mused for a second, “Who did he call?”

“A woman who sounded to be a close family friend,” Gideon replied, “He asked her to watch over his wife.”

Relieved that he wasn’t a plant by whoever had done this to get on board the Waverider, Sara found a cereal bar to go with her coffee and headed up to the bridge.

“Good, you’re up,” John said looking up as she walked into the parlour.

Sara took a seat, “Do you have something?”

“A possibility,” John replied, “I need Rory to tell me about his deaths.”

“Is it me or is there something odd about that?” Sara asked as she picked at the muffin, “So I was an assassin with an ancient sect but, from what he’s told us, Rory is a nurse who lives a normal life.”

John shrugged, “That we know of. He did know a lot about time travel, our trip here did not affect him in the slightest which shouldn’t be possible. And there is something else about him I can’t put my finger on. Other than his resemblance to Rip.”

“Gideon,” Sara called, “Let us know once Rory is awake.”

“Yes, Captain Lance,” Gideon replied.

John looked up at her, “I don’t want to go through this more than once and I need Rory’s information before I can be sure.”

“Let’s leave him to sleep,” Sara said, “He did say he’d worked a full shift in the hospital before this.”

John nodded.

“I’m going to work out for a bit,” she told him, “Give me a call when you need me.”

 Rory appeared in the parlour almost an hour and a half after Sara had left. John smiled to see he looked a lot better than when John had last seen him.

“Gideon got you something to wear I see,” John noted, seeing Rory was wearing different clothes than he had been earlier.

Rory nodded, “And gave me breakfast too.”

John belatedly noted the two mugs Rory was carrying.

“She said you would want some coffee too,” Rory handed one to John who took a sip with a blissful smile on his face.

At Rory’s amused look John shrugged, “Gideon makes amazing coffee.”

“Thank you, Mr Constantine,” Gideon spoke up, “It is nice to be appreciated.”

Taking a seat Rory looked at him, “Do you know anything more than you did earlier?”

“I might,” John said, “But to be sure then I need to know about when you died.”

Rory sighed, “Which time?”

“All of them,” John replied testily.

Grimacing slightly before taking a drink of his own coffee Rory said, “Some of them weren’t in this reality.”

John stared at him thoughtfully, “Tell me everything.”

Taking a deep breath, Rory began to talk. John stared at him listening in astonishment as Rory described several events where he ended up dead.

“Hold on,” John stopped him, “You lived for almost two thousand years in one of these realities, and you remember it?”

Rory shrugged, “Sometimes.”

“What else?” John motioned him to continue.

When Rory finished speaking John leaned back and folded his arms as he thought over everything.

“Gideon,” he said after a minute of silence, “Can you tell Sara I need to speak with her now?”

“Of course, Mr Constantine,” Gideon replied, adding a few moments later, “She will be here soon.”

 Rory wandered the bridge while John checked a few things in his books, he turned when the doors opened, and Sara walked in.

“Please tell me you have an idea what’s going on,” she said the moment she entered the parlour.

John looked over and motioned Rory to join them before nodded, “I do.”

Rory took the seat beside Sara and they waited.

“Okay,” John said, “Both of you have died at some point and been resurrected.”

Sara glanced at Rory obviously wanting to know more but decided against asking and motioned John to continue, “And?”

“There is a spell that allows someone to capture the energy that comes from resurrection,” John explained, “It’s a really complicated and dangerous spell that I only know of one person who is stupid enough to try to do it. A wizard called Redburn. A sneaky little bastard who came off worse the last time we met up. This is his type of plan.”

Rory mused on this for a moment before asking, “So, why has he replaced us?”

“To control you,” John explained, “The spell needs you to surrender the energy. The bastard has got his little cult, who I’m guessing are under a spell, put their people in your place so that you know at any moment they can hurt the person you love. And by having you in custody then that part of the spell locks in your identity on the fake.”

Sara crossed her arms thoughtfully, “How do we fix this?”

“We give them what they want,” Rory stated flatly.

John and Sara turned to him confused.

“What do you mean?” Sara asked.

“We need to do something and sitting about isn’t going to help anyone,” Rory replied, “We need to take back control.”

Sara sighed, “You’re right but we’re also on our own since none of our friends will recognise us.”

Rory bit his lip for a moment before saying, “I may know someone who can help but I’m not sure if the spell will affect him.”

“It affects everyone,” John reminded him.

“Even if he’s an alien?” Rory asked, making them stare at him.

John hesitated, “No idea. I’ve only dealt with humans and supernatural creatures from earth.”

Rory grimaced, “Then I don’t know if it’s a good idea to contact him, besides Amy may have already called him about an ‘imposter’ Rory.”

“What would your friend be able to do?” Sara asked.

Rory hesitated for a moment before replying, “He has a habit of being able to help.”

“That’s it?”

“It’s hard to explain,” Rory said, not sure how to articulate how much he trusted the Doctor and how he was the person Rory was sure could help them.

“Then no,” Sara told him, “If we don’t know your friend will be immune to the spell so we’re not pulling them into this.”

Indignation filled Rory that she had decided this unilaterally, but he held his tongue, considering this was her ship and Rory knew he needed their help.

“What do you suggest we do?” Rory asked sharper than he meant.

Sara hesitated.

“I could probably recreate one of the coins,” John spoke up, “So, we can draw them to an area we control. Once there I am sure I can shatter the spells he’s using rendering him impotent.”

“Good,” Sara nodded, “I will work out where is best for us to draw them to.”

Rory frowned, “What about me?”

“You’re a nurse,” Sara said, “Gideon will give you some stuff to go over,” she clapped her hands together, “We have a plan, Let’s get to work.”

 John saw annoyance cover Rory’s face at Sara’s dismissal but he remained silent and left the bridge to presumably go down to the medical bay as she’d told him.

“That might have been a bad idea,” John said, “Telling Rory there was nothing he can do.”

Sara shrugged, “He’s just a nurse.”

“In this life,” John rolled his eyes, “But he has plenty of experience that would be useful in making a plan.”

“But we don’t know him,” Sara reminded him, “Not well enough to trust him for this.”

John grimaced, “That could be a mistake, love. But, it’s your choice. I am going to get on to making this coin. I’ll be in Ray’s lab.”

Sara nodded, “Let me know as soon as it’s done.”

Grabbing what he was going to need, John left the bridge. Setting up in Ray’s lab he pulled out the book he needed, this was going to take longer than he expected.

                                 *********************************************

 Rory seethed as he left the bridge, heading to the medical bay Gideon guided him to and he paced for several minutes.

“Gideon,” he called finally.

“Yes, Mr Williams?”

“I have another call I need to make,” Rory told her, quickly rhyming off the number. He waited as it rang, hoping it would be answered and he wasn’t out doing something mad.

“Hello?” the familiar cheerful voice filled the room and Rory sighed in relief.

“Doctor,” Rory said, “It’s me.”

“Rory!!!” the enthusiastic voice came back, “This is a surprise. You and Amy haven’t been fighting, have you?”

Sighing Rory replied, “No but something has happened. I need your help. But I’m not sure if you will recognise me.”

“You’re not making any sense, Rory,” the Doctor said.

“I know, it’s hard to explain,” Rory sighed, “Can you come here? And promise you won’t do anything until you hear me out.”

There was a moment of silence before the Doctor came back on, “I’m on my way.”

Rory slid to sit onto one of the medical chairs and watched as the blue box appeared before him, “Gideon,” he called, “This is my friend, so you don’t have to worry about the box that’s here.”

“Of course, Mr Williams,” she replied.

As the TARDIS settled Rory moved to stand in front of it waiting for the Doctor to appear. The doors opened and the Doctor frowned in confusion.

“Who are you?” the Doctor demanded staring at him, “Where’s Rory?” he tilted his head blinking in confusion, “Except you kind of look like…”

Before Rory could say anything a noise from inside the TARDIS made the Doctor frown and step back inside. Rory followed standing inside the door waiting.

“Rory?” the Doctor stared at him in surprise, “What is going on? Why did you not look like yourself and then look like yourself?”

Laughing in relief, Rory quickly explained to the Doctor what was happening.

“That was a risky move calling me,” the Doctor noted once Rory had finished speaking, “What if I didn’t recognise you?”

“I was pretty sure that the TARDIS would be able to see through whatever this is,” Rory told him with a shrug, “Telepathic circuitry, right? Not to mention she doesn’t exist in time the same as we do so would know who I am.”

The Doctor shook his head exasperated, “One of these days we are going to sit down and have a long discussion, Rory. But not today we have other things to do.”

 “I distinctly said not to call your friend,” Sara snapped, standing just inside the medical bay’s doors, arms folded across her chest, anger covering her face.

Rory shrugged, “And I decided it was the best idea.”

“My orders were…”

“Your orders?” Rory cut her off, “I am not one of your people, Sara and I don’t take orders from you. In fact, I don’t know either of you.”

“We helped you,” Sara retorted, taking a step towards him, “With no reason to.”

“You did it because you thought I was the guy you know,” Rory rolled his eyes dismissively, “It wasn’t about helping me. The Doctor is someone I trust, and I know can actually help.”

John leaned into the man standing beside him introduced as the Doctor, “Who’s your money on?”

The Doctor chuckled, “Rory is more stubborn that anyone I’ve ever known, with the possible exception of his wife and daughter. I wouldn’t count him out.”

“And I don’t know him,” Sara snapped back at Rory.

Annoyed he shrugged, “Then you two do whatever you were going to, and we’ll fix this ourselves.” Without another word he walked into the TARDIS while Sara threw her hands in the air and stalked away.

The Doctor sighed, “I’ll speak with him, you talk to her.”

John nodded and watched the strange man head into the box after Rory, shaking his head John decided to ask later about the police box.

Heading after Sara he found her in the library pacing looking annoyed.

“Gideon,” she suddenly called, “Why didn’t you warn us Rory had made a call and invited his ‘friend’ here?”

Leaning against the wall John waited interested to hear the reply.

“You ordered me to assist Mr Williams,” Gideon replied, “He needed to speak with the Doctor and assured me that the Doctor was his friend.”

John forced himself not to laugh, Gideon had clearly taken a liking to their Rip lookalike and was following Sara’s orders to the letter. It was something she used to do to annoy Rip by being that special kind of dumb, obeying orders to the letter. Usually after he had done something stupid.

“That did not go well,” John noted.

“If he can’t follow orders,” Sara snapped, “Then he’ll be a liability.”

Shaking his head John sighed, “Sara, Rory is not one of the Legends. And to be fair to him, you did dismiss any contribution he could provide.”

“He’s just a nurse, John,” Sara reminded him.

“And the rest,” John replied, “If you had held on and let us tell you everything then you would know he has military experience and, in a way, is older than the entire team put together several times. Look,” he continued before she could argue, “We need to work together on this. He’s not Rip, Sara and any animosity you feel because they look alike you need to get over it.”

Sara frowned at him, “This has nothing to do with Rip. I don’t know Rory and I learned a long time ago that I need to know who I’m working with.”

John sighed again, “Sara, the man coming after the two of you is extremely dangerous. The spell he wants to do is deadly and splitting up is the worst idea. So, I’m telling you now that if we do this alone, we’ll fail.”

 “We’re not leaving,” the Doctor said walking up the stairs to join Rory at the console.

Rory turned to him, “We’re obviously not needed.”

“I know you’re angry,” the Doctor said softly, “But I need you to control the Centurion just now.”

Let out a snort of derision Rory dropped onto the chair and stared at him in sullen silence.

“Rory,” the Doctor leaned against the console, “Listen to me. You called me to help but I can only help when I have all the facts.”

“Well I paid attention, Doctor,” Rory replied, “I’m sure I can tell you what you need to know.”

The Doctor smiled affectionally, “You always do, Rory but we still need to work with these people.”

Rory frowned.

“You’ve followed orders before, Rory,” the Doctor decided to change track, “As Captain Williams and Roranicus.”

“From people who had earned my respect,” Rory retorted.

Shaking his head, the Doctor sighed, “Why are you always so stubborn?”

“Maybe that’s what keeps me alive.”

“I’m not going to move the TARDIS,” the Doctor said softly, “Not until I know a way to get you and Amy out of danger.”

Rory frowned at him, “You know I can probably fly the TARDIS and get us back home without you. She likes me.”

“I do know that,” the Doctor replied, “The TARDIS also wants you to remain safe and I doubt would take you where you wanted to go if it wasn’t. Rory,” the Doctor rested his hands on his friend’s shoulders, “Look at me.” Reluctantly Rory looked up and the Doctor continued, “I want to protect Amy too, and to do that we need to work with your new friends.”

Rory let out an annoyed sigh, “Fine. But if she tries to order me around again…”

Following his friend out the Doctor sighed, he was going to have to watch Rory closely. The Centurion who’d lived for nearly two thousand years sometimes appeared pushing nurse Rory to the back of his consciousness and Rory became one of the most dangerous people the Doctor had ever known.

                                 *********************************************

 Gideon watched Mr Williams and the Doctor leave the blue box currently sitting in her medical bay. The TARDIS had connected to her the moment it landed and assured her that neither the Doctor nor Mr Williams were a threat to the Waverider nor the people her Captain had asked her to watch over. The TARDIS was completely different from an AI and Gideon was fascinated by her, having never met any Time Lord technology until now. The TARDIS also asked many questions about Gideon and her Captain, amused that the man the TARDIS called the ‘pretty one’ resembled Rip’s Captain so much.

Rory Williams resemblance to Rip Hunter had confused and alarmed Gideon at first, but after the initial thought her Captain had returned then dismissed, Gideon watched over and found she liked Mr Williams.

He was smart and listening to his story had learned how resilient he was. There were some similarities to Rip in how much he cared for people, but Mr Williams appeared to be much better at expressing it than her Captain had ever been.

If she was in her human form, she would have smiled amused at how Miss Lance stood in one corner of the room while Mr Williams took the other with Mr Constantine and the Doctor standing between them.

She just hoped they could all work together to solve this situation.

 “Alright,” the Doctor said all traces of the foolishness and light-heartedness he’d displayed earlier gone, “Sara, Rory you have both been targeted meaning not only are your lives in danger but so are the lives of people you hold dear. Now, I am not going to make you shake hands and make up,” he held up his hand sharply as Rory opened his mouth to speak, “Not that I don’t want to but we don’t have the time to listen to you argue with me.”

Sara glared at him demanding, “Who put you in charge?”

“I did,” the Doctor told her sharply, “So, hush.” Annoyance covered Sara’s face, but she remained silent as the Doctor continued, “Do you have any ideas?”

Rory took a quick breath, “John thinks he knows who is behind this, so we decided to draw them to us.

The Doctor frowned, “And you think that is a good idea?”

“If we can get them face to face on our terms,” John spoke up, “I’m we have a chance of stopping him.”

Confusion covered the Doctor’s face, “How do you plan on doing that?”

“I can recreate the tracker spell,” John explained, “We then choose somewhere we can control to put down so that when they come for Sara and Rory, I break the spell which should render him powerless.”

The Doctor nodded, “A good plan. Rory, do you want your sword?”

“Probably a good idea,” Rory sighed.

“Sword?” Sara asked intrigued.

Rory shook his head, “It is a long story. I’ll get it. I may need to go through some drills before we go.”

The Doctor nodded, patting Rory on the shoulder as he walked past.

“Sword?” Sara asked again before demanding, “What kind of nurse uses a sword?”

“One whose lived a few different lives and was a Roman Centurion in one of them,” John replied.

The Doctor turned to her, “Rory is so much more than he tells people. And although he can be one of the kindest people you will ever meet,” he sighed, “He can also be deadly.”

Confused Sara turned to where Rory had been before looking back at the Doctor and asking, “Him?”

“He told us he’s died a few times,” John reminded her, “You should have been here for the entire story. It was pretty incredible.”

 Rory entered the TARDIS and gently touched the console.

“Thank you for knowing me,” he breathed softly, “I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t.”

He felt a gentle vibration against his fingertips and smiled.

“She says your welcome.”

Rory jumped and spun finding a woman he didn’t recognise standing just at the top of the stairs, petite with high cheekbones, grey eyes and long chestnut hair.

“Who are you?” he stammered in confusion.

She smiled at him, “I’m Gideon.”

“Gideon?” Rory stared at her, “How…I mean why…no, I mean how?”

Gideon laughed, “The TARDIS and I have been talking, she gave me permission to use her holo-emitters to speak with you here.”

“Why?” Rory asked a little suspiciously.

She shrugged, “I enjoy talking with you.”

“Because I remind you of Rip?” Rory asked.

Sadness covered her face, “Actually your resemblance hurts me in a way I did not know existed until now.”

Rory winced, “I’m sorry your friend is gone. I wish I could help in some way.”

A sweet smile touched her lips and she rested her hand at his cheek, “It is kind of you but there is nothing anyone can do. If Captain Hunter is alive then I shall find him.”

Not sure what to say Rory breathed, “I should go get my sword. That’s why I’m here.”

“The TARDIS advises that she has placed it in your room,” Gideon told him with a smile, “And she says not to worry too much about the ‘Fiery One’ as the ‘Song of Time’ is with her. Do you know what that means?”

Rory nodded, “It means my daughter is with Amy. That’s good.” He frowned in thought, “The Fiery One?”

“It is the TARDIS name for your wife,” Gideon explained.

Rory nodded, “An apt description for her,” he chuckled before musing thoughtfully, “Dare I ask if she told you what she calls me?”

Gideon smiled, “The Pretty One. And I feel that is a perfect description.”

                                 *********************************************

 “You want to tell me what you’re thinking about?” John asked as he found Sara in the library staring into space.

“Just worrying,” Sara sighed, “I don’t like not being able to actively participate in protecting myself or my people.”

Sitting beside her he shrugged, “I get it. But I know what I’m doing, Sara and once we get you in position then you can beat the crap out whoever is doing this.”

She nodded.

“What else is bothering you?” John demanded annoyed.

“Why…”

“Because you’ve still got that look,” he replied, “I am busy, so therapy is only on offer for a few minutes.”

Sara grimaced before admitting, “It’s Rory.”

“What about him?”

“Having him here makes me think about what happened to Rip,” Sara told him sadly, “It was my mistake that meant Rip sacrificed his life. I let Amaya break time before we knew how to use the weapon, I gave Damian Darhk of all people one of the totems because I didn’t want to listen to Rip’s advice. Because I had to prove I didn’t need him.”

John folded his arms across his chest and sighed, “Sara, Rip could have taken the Waverider at any time and left you all to your fate. Gideon would have gone with him without hesitation. But Rip stayed back for you to take the lead because he trusted in you.” John shrugged, “Rip did what he did because he knew you would take the team and stop the threat. It was his decision to face Mallus, so give him the credit for it and stop trying to take the blame.”

“Okay,” Sara said softly.

“Are we done?” John asked.

She rolled her eyes at him before asking, “What about this Doctor? Do you know anything about him?”

“You mean other than the fact I’m pretty sure he’s a Time Lord?” John said.

“A what?”

John sighed, annoyance filling his voice, “Rip never told you about them?”

Sara shook her head.

“All I know is the Time Masters avoided them and you do not get on their bad side,” John replied, “But I think we can trust him. He’s obviously protective of Rory, so he’s on our side right now but from what Rip told me, or at least what I remember,” at her confused frown John explained, “We had drank a lot at the time, Time Lords don’t usually get involved. If he is then there’s a good reason for it.”

“So, be careful of the guy in the bowtie,” Sara noted, “Got it.”

 The Doctor walked through the Waverider looking for Rory. The fact that the other man had so readily agreed that he needed his sword was worrying because Rory never picked it up unless there was absolutely no other option. Finally, he found Rory in a cargo bay going through some drills.

It was times like this that the Doctor saw how much Rory had changed over the years. From the nervous nurse-boy who had followed Amy during the ‘Prisoner Zero’ fiasco completely bemused by what he was being told, who wouldn’t hurt a fly and had pushed the Doctor out of the way of a shot which killed him. To the man who held the memories of living the life of a Roman Centurion and spent almost two thousand years guarding the woman he loved. Those memories made Rory dangerous and the Doctor had seen him disappear into the Centurion on occasion but each time it had happened Amy had been there to pull him back.

The Doctor feared what would happen if she couldn’t because she didn’t know who he was. He’d never seen Rory go down that rabbit-hole completely and was hoping he never would.

“Doctor?” Rory said noticing him suddenly, “Is everything okay?”

“You tell me,” the Doctor said softly.

Rory took a deep breath, “River is with Amy and I just hope that my daughter did something to ensure that she isn’t affected by the spell. That was all I could do to protect Amy this time.”

“I know that Amy would remind you that she can look after herself,” the Doctor said, “And that you don’t have to protect her.”

Rory shrugged, “After two thousand years, it’s a bit of a habit.”

The Doctor chuckled, “I guess so.”

“I’m scared, Doctor,” Rory confessed softly, “I know how to fight but what if I can’t fight this?”

Wrapping his arm around Rory, the Doctor hugged him tightly, “I sometimes forget you’re younger and older than me.”

“Me too.”

Letting the other man go the Doctor took Rory by the shoulders, “We rebooted the Universe once. We can do anything.”

With a slight smile Rory nodded in agreement.

“Then let’s go,” the Doctor told him, “And see if our new friends have anything.”

“Doctor,” Rory stopped him before he could leave the room, “If something happens to me then you have to get Amy away from that guy.”

“Rory…”

“And tell her that I love her more than anything in the universe.”

The Doctor smiled, resting his hand on Rory’s cheek, “She knows.”

                                 *********************************************

 “Okay, John is sure he’s managed to recreate the coin with the locating spell,” Sara said, “Rory and I agree that it would be the best idea to go back to London to set the trap.”

“Why?” the Doctor asked thoughtfully.

“Because it’s where we ran into each other,” Rory explained, “Presumably that’d be the best place since we know they not only have a presence but…that’s where Amy and Sara’s girlfriend Ava are.”

“Rory said there is a park near his house,” Sara took over, “So, we to set up there. It should hopefully allow us to ensure Amy and Ava are safe by breaking the spells.”

The Doctor glanced at John who nodded, “Alright, I say we take the TARDIS since the Waverider is a bit big to land and if you use your portal things…”

“Time Courier,” Sara and John corrected in unison.

“They could follow us back through if something goes wrong and we need to retreat,” the Doctor continued as though he hadn’t been interrupted.

“Agreed,” Sara nodded, “John, get what you need, and we’ll meet at the TARDIS in fifteen minutes.”

 Rory followed the Doctor into the TARDIS and took up position by the console.

“Gideon,” the Doctor called, “Apologies we have to leave you here.”

The hologram of the woman appeared again, “I understand, Doctor,” she told him, “The TARDIS shall keep in contact with me, so I know what is happening.”

The Doctor nodded.

“Gideon,” Rory said softly, “If I don’t get a chance to talk to you then thank you for your help.”

“You are welcome, Mr Williams,” Gideon nodded softly.

He smiled at her before adding, “And I hope you find your friend.”

Giving him a smile Gideon suddenly disappeared as the TARDIS doors opened.

“Oh my God,” Sara exclaimed as she walked inside a few steps, turned walked out and Rory assumed, walked around the outside of the TARDIS before she walked back in. Turning to John she said, “Okay, I get why the Time Masters stayed away from them.”

Without looking up, the Doctor called, “Come in, close the door and come up here.” As Sara and John reached him, the Doctor looked up and frowned at the skin-tight white outfit she was wearing, “Oh, White Canary. I thought you looked familiar. Nice outfit.”

He glanced at Rory who said, “No.”

“Are you sure?” the Doctor said, “You would…”

“Not a chance in hell,” Rory cut him off, “I have my sword, I don’t need the rest of the outfit.”

“Outfit?” John asked with interest.

Rory closed his eyes in frustration as the Doctor noted, “His Centurion’s uniform.”

John’s eyes widened in a way Rory wasn’t sure he liked before looking Rory up and down, “Really?”

“Let’s go, Doctor,” Rory said frustration in his voice.

“I think the Centurion outfit would be a good idea,” Sara spoke up amused.

Rory grimaced at her before snapping, “Doctor.”

“And we’re off,” the Doctor threw the lever.

                                 *********************************************

 It was a cold morning, grey with a haze of rain when they stepped out of the TARDIS. They were in a playpark with a large circle of grass in the middle of the park where the TARDIS was sitting. Sara looked around getting the lay of the land while Rory turned and looked along the road to where his house was.

“She’ll be fine,” the Doctor assured him.

Nodding Rory took a breath and turned to John, “What do you need me to do?”

Handing him small tin of green paint, a brush and a diagram John said, “On the ground around the outside of the grass. Try to keep it as hidden as possible, we don’t want them to see it until the last possible second.”

Rory nodded, looking at the picture on the paper for several moments before he began to meticulously paint it on the ground, ensuring that he didn’t miss a bit and the circle was complete.

John started muttering incantations beneath his breath, building them a protective circle that would work with the symbols Rory was painting.

“There’s nowhere to hide,” Sara frowned as she joined the Doctor.

“I think that’s the point,” the Doctor replied.

Sara grimaced, “I just don’t like it.”

“Neither do I.”

 John finished his incantations as Rory finished painting the symbols.

“These are good,” John told him, “Have you had to do this before?”

Rory chuckled, “Amy was very specific about how we played as children.”

John frowned for a moment and pulled out the duplicate coin but before he unwrapped it turned back to Rory, “We’re coming back to that later.”

Rory gave him a quick smile and stood back as John slowly unwrapped the silver coin he had made.

Turning he asked, “Are we all clear on the plan?”

“Yes,” Sara and Rory answered in unison as the Doctor nodded.

John took a quick breath, “Here we go then.”

Starting to incant again, he tossed it in the air. The coin spun in the air before dropping onto the ground with a clink.

Almost instantly several people began to appear, surrounding the park, all wearing black robes. John felt Rory stiffen at his side, hand reaching for his sword automatically as Sara took up a defensive stance.

“I want to speak to your boss,” John called.

“You have no idea what you are interfering in,” one of the robes replied stepping in front of them, “If you know what’s good for you then leave and we will spare your life.”

John pulled out a cigarette and lit it, “I’ve never been one for doing what’s good for me. Get your boss here and we will have a discussion. Or,” he took a long drag before flicking the butt, “You will find out exactly how much I dislike your sense of fashion.”

The robe let out a snort of derision and stepped forward, John muttered under his breath and raised his hands so that when he hit the barrier Rory had painted they thought it was John that had erected it himself. He needed the barrier to remain undiscovered for now.

“So,” John said to the man, who had now lost his hood, “Are you getting your boss, or do I have to ask again?”

 Rory decided he was glad John was on their side as he stared down the man in the black robe. Finally, the man sniffed and stepped back.

“You only have yourself to blame for your destruction,” he stated before he turned and went down on one knee.

John rolled his eyes and turned slightly to Rory, “Hold your temper. He’ll do anything he can to rattle you and Sara. The Doctor is watching her, but I need you to be what the Doctor calls ‘Nurse Rory’.”

“I’ll be fine,” Rory murmured back.

After several minutes a small sickly-looking man appeared and walked slowly towards them.

“Reed Redburn,” John snapped, “I knew it was too good to be true when I was told you were dead, you smarmy bastard.”

Redburn turned pale washed out blue eyes to them, “Constantine,” he rasped, “You should not have become involved in this.”

“You came after one of my mates,” John shook his head, “I tend to look unfavourably on that.”

Redburn laughed, or that’s what Rory assumed it was, before turning to Rory, “Mr Williams, this will be easier on you if you just surrender yourself. I know you want no one to be hurt in a futile attempt to stop what is inevitable.

Rory chuckled softly.

“Is something amusing, Mr Williams?” Redburn demanded looking surprised at Rory’s reaction.

“You have no idea what you’ve done,” Rory stated softly but the menace was clear in his voice, “When someone abducted my wife, I picked up my sword and cut through anyone who got in my way.”

Redburn shrugged, “So?”

Rory smiled coldly as he drew his sword, “I’m the even-tempered one in my family. Just wait till my wife and daughter realise what you’re doing. Natural disasters have nothing on them.”

“Do you think that I need to worry?” Redburn demanded, “I own your wife, Mr Williams and you have no child. I did my homework before I chose you.”

He turned and motioned someone forward. Rory gripped his sword tighter as Amy walked forward with the same guy who had been in his house, River was with them looking as confused as Amy. River glanced at Rory and winked sending relief flowing through him. A few moments later a brunette woman appeared with who he assumed was Ava, Sara’s girlfriend.

“You really should have done much more research,” John said from Rory’s side.

“River, now,” Rory snapped as John activated the spell that Rory had painted around the circle for him.

River grabbed Amy pulling her to safety as the spell exploded outwards removing the camouflage surrounding them and shattering every other spell Redburn had cast on the group.

“What the hell?” Amy demanded as she turned to the guy who had been pretending to be Rory. Without hesitation she punched him in the jaw, sending him to the ground.

“Rory!!” Amy cried, running to his side but seeing the sword and stance knew not to hug him instead turned a fiery glare onto Redburn as River joined them.

“You were saying?” Rory asked with a smirk.

 Sara smiled in relief as Ava slammed the woman who had been pretending to be her to the ground before moving to Sara’s side.

“I’m guessing I’ve missed a few things,” Ava said.

Giving a slight shrug, Sara confirmed, “One or two.”

“So,” John spoke up again, “You were saying about having an advantage.”

Redburn glared, looking even worse than he had earlier as his control over Amy, Ava and all of the people in the robes was broken by John’s spell. The people in black robes were now wandering around looking confused leaving Redburn standing alone.

“The last time we met,” John continued, anger in his voice just below the surface, “I told you I would kill you if we ever crossed paths again.”

“No,” the Doctor snapped, “No killing.”

John turned to him, “I don’t have to. The reason he wanted Sara and Rory was because both have been dead at some point. He wanted the energy their resurrection granted them. He’s not got long and the energy he expended in this stunt,” he shrugged, “It finished him off,” turning back to the man standing there who was beginning to wheeze, “You won’t live much longer, Redburn. Go make your peace because that black soul of yours is destined for hell.”

“We should get him to a hospital,” Rory spoke up.

Ava stepped forward, “We have the medical facilities that will also be able to keep him locked down.”

“Are you sure?” the Doctor asked.

Sara nodded, “Ava’s right. The Time Bureau is the best option. John, we’ll need you to help keep him in line.”

John shrugged, “Fine by me. I want to keep an eye on the slimy little weasel.”

“Good,” Sara said before she turned to the Doctor, “Thank you for your help.”

He gave a quick nod, “I’ll have the TARDIS let Gideon know everything is fine and you’ll contact her soon.”

“Thank you,” she replied before turning to Rory, offering her hand she smiled at him, “I’m really glad we ran into one another.”

“Me too,” Rory took her hand, “Look after yourself.”

Before she walked away Sara caught sight of the woman with Rory, who was not his wife, “Ahh…” she started before trailing off.

“Something wrong?” Rory asked.

Sara shook her head, “No. It’s just…your friend looks like my mom’s twin sister, Aunt Catherine but,” she laughed, “Considering you look like Rip, must just be another coincidence.”

Rory glanced at his friend before replying, “Must be.”

As she joined Ava and John, Sara turned and watched the Doctor, Rory and the two women enter the TARDIS.

As the blue box disappeared, Ava demanded, “What did I miss?”

Sara chuckled, “I’ll tell you later.”

 Rory entered the TARDIS and caught River before she headed up the stairs to join the Doctor and Amy.

“Should I ask,” he said before adding, “Aunt Catherine?”

River smiled mysteriously before patting his cheek, “Best not to, father dear.”

Rolling his eyes, he climbed the stairs quickly and was caught by Amy in a tight embrace. She hugged him tightly before kissing him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Rory held onto her, “Not your fault. I’m just happy you recognise me again.”

“So,” the Doctor spoke up, “Where to?”

“How about home,” Rory replied, his arm wrapped tightly around his wife, “Get something to eat then decide.”

The Doctor nodded, “Sounds good.”

Rory smiled as he looked around the TARDIS, relieved to be home with his family once more.

                                 *********************************************

 The Doctor was sitting on the wall in the back garden when Rory found him after dinner. Taking a seat at his side Rory looked up at the stars in silence with him for several minutes.

“You’re thinking very loudly over there,” the Doctor said.

Rory shrugged, “Just everything that happened the past few days.” He paused and turned to his friend, “Did you let Gideon know what happened?”

“You were busy with Amy when I did,” the Doctor smiled, “She sent her good wishes to you.”

He sat for a moment before saying, “She wasn’t what I expected an AI to be.”

“No,” the Doctor smiled, “Not like one I’ve ever encountered before either. The TARDIS appears to have made friends with her too.”

“Can you help her find her Captain?” Rory asked.

The Doctor shrugged nonchalantly, “I may have thought of a few possibilities of what may have happened to him.”

“Well if you find him, I want to meet him,” Rory said.

“To see if you do look the same?”

Rory laughed, “That’s basically why.”

They sat in silence again for several more minutes, listening to Amy and River laughing inside the house.

“Thank you for coming to help me, Doctor,” Rory said sincerely.

Wrapping his arm around the other man, the Doctor smiled, “Anytime.”

“Oy, you two,” Amy yelled, “Get back in here. Dessert is served.”

Clapping his friend’s shoulder Rory led him back into the house with his wife and daughter.

He was home again.

[shslflamingarrow]

HELLO & SORRY

@youngmoviemaker I was your Ava’s Demon Secret Santa! And I’m late!! I have no excuse other than. I’m a chronic procrastinator. But I wanted to try not to rush this so it didn’t end up too horrible. Anyway, Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and Happy New Year!! Here’s a fic about Christmas, even though it’s not Christmas anymore. @theavasdemonsecretsanta

[[MORE]]

It had finally happened somehow. It took years of scraping together pennies from minimum wage jobs and living at home with their parents for longer than was socially acceptable, but now Odin was finally putting down the last box in their new apartment. They’d saved for years just to have enough for the deposit on a one bedroom apartment in California. When they first started dating Ava detailed her dreams of living close to the beach. So Bakersfield wasn’t quite the beachside property of their dreams, but it was closer than it had been before they moved.

He patted a box, labeled in Ava’s blocky handwriting KITCHEN. “W-wanna see if we can f-f-find some dinner?”

“That box is all pots and pans, good luck eating cast iron.” She laughed as he dug through the box to confirm. He supposed they hadn’t had much food to pack for themselves moving out of their family homes.

“W-well...” He scratched his chin. “We co-could order in-n?” Odin knew he had a good thirty bucks kicking around somewhere. No answer came to his question and when he looked up from the boxes to investigate why he saw his girlfriend gazing out the window. It wasn’t much of a view, just the city streets and air pollution.

“I can’t believe it’s already December and there’s no snow,” she said after a few moments.

“It d-d-doesn’t sn-n-now much h-here.” If at all. ‘The snow’ was a destination for Californians. That’s what came with wanting to live near the beach. Or at least, two hours from it.

“I don’t know how it’ll feel like Christmas with no snow.” Christmas had honestly been the last thing on Odin’s mind. They were far too broke now to pull out all the stops on gifts and dinner.

“N-next year we can g-g-go b-back home.” It would always be snowing there in December, and their families would expect to see them for the holidays.

“Where are we going to put the tree?” She asked looking around the living room with boxes stacked in every corner. It looked like more than it really was due to the low ceilings and general cramped space. Odin looked around with her.

“I g-guess...” He pointed to the deepest corner furthest from the door. “Th-there.” It’s away from the kitchen, which isn’t actually a separate room and is instead divided by a metal strip in the ground that separates yellowing carpet from yellowing tile. She stood in the corner as if sizing it up.

“B-but... We p-r-r-robably can’t afford a t-tree this year.” He hated letting her down, and the look on her face dampened significantly to let him know he had done just that.

“You’re right...” She sighed, still standing in the corner to size it up.

“N-next year,” Odin assured her, walking over to pat the top of her head. “Christmas will be p-perfect next year.” A pretty big promise to make considering they wouldn’t have much more money then either if things continue like they had. She nodded though, giving a sniff almost like she’d been crying. The two fell into each other’s embrace, Ava burying her face into his chest like she intended to nest there.

“L-let’s find some c-ca-sh. There’s a s-s-sushi joint w-we passed.” They probably couldn’t afford delivery and sushi but he’d go get it for them.

Digging around in a clothes box, Odin tracked down a twenty dollar bill in the back pocket of his discarded work jeans.

“F-found it.” He held up the crumpled bill triumphantly and at the sound of his voice Ava ceased her own rooting around for spare change.

“I got a dollar twenty-five.” She announces proudly, holding up a crumpled bill that had been through the wash and a dingy quarter. Odin held his hand out for that too.

"You c-can c-c-call and order while I'm w-wa-walking," he told her standing at the door and wrapping himself up in his coat and scarf they'd left on the floor where a coat rack should go. She nodded understanding before hunting down her cell phone. Talking to people gave her anxiety, but she knew Odin had a rougher go of it, especially on the phone he could be hard to make out. So he would go get it and face human interaction face to face while she dealt with the phone call. It seemed to be a pretty fair trade. When he got out the door and down the several flights of stairs (elevator was busted) he realized his coat and scarf were a bit much. The people around him were all bundled and shivering the same, but the weather felt like a crisp spring day back home more than the middle of December. He let the grey hand knit scarf sit open around his neck. It had been his Christmas present from Ava last year. She spent all her free time while he was working the graveyard shift. It was supposed to be a blanket but she decided to stop at scarf and he loved it just the same.

By the time he got to the sushi joint, he was sure Ava had enough time to order. He looked at the cheesy lanterns and fish tank, which felt like any other sushi place he’d been to. Not that there were very many back east. When he saw the plates though he could already tell this was nothing like the sushi at home. Probably having something to do with the fact that this fish was a lot fresher.

“H-h-hello.” Odin coughed, as if that would shake off his stutter. It was always worse in public, when people were new or staring at him. “O-order for A-Ava. Or-or Odin.” The woman behind the counter looked very bewildered by his stammering but checked the tags at her side. She picked one up and looked it over?

“Odin?” She said it more like udon, but he nods. The white receipt paper is slammed down onto a spike with several other receipts before she turns to walk away. He’s left looking at the bowl of mints and toothpick dispenser for a few moments before something catches his eye. Just behind where the woman’s head had been there’s a tiny tree sprouting up on a shelf. It’s growing severely to the left in order to avoid hitting the shelf above it, tilted and awkward. Maybe in need of water but he’s not quite sure.

When the woman comes back with a takeout bag she tells him it’s 15.50. Odin points to the tree behind her.

“H-how much?” Her face looks at him in that same bewildered way as before looking back to where he’s pointing.

“Not for sale.” She shook her head to emphasize the point.

“How much?” He repeats digging in his pockets for the money and handing her all of it. She looks over the money, and he knows it’s probably worth more than six dollars but it’s worth a shot. “P-please?” His intense gaze pierced into her own. She looked around uneasily and Odin couldn’t help but think about how he was about to be banned from the nearest restaurant on their first day in the new apartment.

“Ten more dollars. Come back later.” Her words are short and precise, so unlike his. He claps his hands together once, making to bow like an idiot.

“T-thank you! Th-th-thanks so much!” He ripped the food from her hands so ecstatically she flinched.

"We close at eight o clock!" The bell inside rang as he threw the door open, back into the pseudo cold air.

He didn't return that night, mostly because he couldn't get ten dollars, but it also wouldn't be much of a surprise to Ava if he brought it home with him that minute. Instead, the next day Ava was going to report to her first day on the job. She'd mooned over the idea for months, she'd be working in a stocking warehouse which didn't sound like something young girls mooned over. The part she loved? Not one of her coworkers could speak English, and she couldn't speak Russian. It was the perfect job, with the lowest amount of human interaction possible. Odin wished they were hiring two new staffers, but he was focused on his art. Which meant staying home and drawing commissions for table scraps.

But it was a table scrap that got him back to the sushi place for the tree (and maybe a California roll, which he and Ava had eaten in abundance to celebrate their move.) The same woman stood behind the counter, and Odin wondered if perhaps she was the owner. Or the owner's wife. He'd figure it out in time. He didn't hesitate a second in slamming his card down on the counter, narrowly missing her receipt spike.

"T-tree." He didn't want to waste time mincing words. She gave the same look, and he now knew he would recieve it every time they came. Likely with Ava looking on questioningly at his side. But it was no surprise to her that Odin could be... Abrasive. It was to this woman though. Nonetheless, she turned and grabbed the tiny tree before ringing him up for a large container of rice. He had never punched in his PIN so quickly in his life, usually there was some sort of hesitation in spending. Not for Ava though.

He practically ran home, the tree swaddled in his arms and sheltered by his body. Out of the corner of his eye he saw something shining on a wrought iron rail. Christmas lights. They had wrapped fake tree like garland around the rail and hooked small red Christmas bulbs in it. He looked around for several seconds, determining that no one was really looking at him, before nicking one and sticking it in his jacket pocket. Then he really did run home, tree still safely tucked against him.

They hadn’t unpacked much of anything, and both of them had pretty much no furniture to their name. They’d left two twin beds back home in the room in their parents houses knowing from experience that cramming the both of them on one didn’t work out comfortably. But one thing they had lifted out of Ava’s room was the bookshelves that had belonged to her great grandmother before her. They were real wood and handmade, clearly something better than they could put together from ikea. It stood pressed against a wall near the kitchens entrance. He set the tree there, from one shelf to another so it would continue growing in the way it had. Odin kept the bauble in his pocket, waiting with bated breath where a couch should be for Ava to come home.

It had only been a four hour shift, to get her training done and acquainted with. He didn’t know how much training was possible if there was a language barrier but she actually came home with a smile on her face, ready to gush about her day. He wanted to let her, and he tried to listen, but over her shoulder his brown eyes kept flicking back to the tree with anticipation.

“...So they showed me-, what do you keep looking at?” She turned her head to follow his gaze and stopped dead when she saw the only thing sitting on their shelves. Knowing this was the moment, Odin took her by the waist, pulling her over to the book shelf.

“Y-you were upset we didn’t have a t-tree so I...” he trailed off not sure how to explain his adventure succinctly to her. The noise the comes out of her mouth is so high pitched he wonders if it made the neighbors dog ache.

“It’s so cute and tiny!” She tells him, like he might have missed that part.

“Uh-huh.” Odin reaches into his pocket and offers the ornament to her by the hook. “Wanna p-put the first d-decoration up?” He offered as her small voice gasped.

“Hang on.” His brow furrowed, confused at her not instantly saying yes. He watched her pick the tree up from the spot he’d picked and shuffle across the room to the corner she had stood in the other day.

“Perfect,” she said holding out her hand for the ornament. “We can put our presents under here.” Small tree, small presents, it worked out. He knelt down at her side, handing her the bauble again watching as Ava inspected their warped reflection in the shining red plastic with a smile. She reached forward, hooking it on the lowest branch and sitting back to admire her work.

“It’s like Charlie Brown.” She put her head on Odin’s shoulder, relaxing into him. He hadn’t seen the movie in years, but the image of a sad small tree was an iconic one. He laughed, nodding his head as he reached into the other pocket for his phone.

“We can w-watch it,” he suggested going to find somewhere to watch the movie free and illegally. Ava nodded, hunkering down on her spot with him leaning to see the small screen. He found it for them, and shortly after a blanket that was intended to be a throw. It wrapped tightly around them both, making them look like a lump on the floor in front of their tiny Christmas tree, single bauble, with a thin blanket and a small screen to watch on. It wasn’t much, but already Odin had lived up to the promise of a perfect Christmas.

[beermanoftana]

(infinity) days of snow // c. 2 [tom hansen]

a repost, originally posted in my former writing blog

ship: tom hansen x oc

warnings: swearing; edited thrice in a span of…a few minutes so mistakes may be present

notes: i really enjoyed writing this before, super fun

summary: after summer is autumn, .after autumn comes winter. and during winter, there is snow.

(856)

During one of their coffee breaks, Tom notices that she isn’t as lively as usual. “Ava, what’s wrong?” he asks. “Are you having a bad day?”

She shakes her head and takes a sip from her tea, which he should’ve known was the first sign. She only has tea when she’s stressed. “No, it’s just that…my old friend is coming back tonight and we kinda left things in awkward terms.”

“Oh,” is all he says. “What happened?”

“Um…we were close, questions were asked—the question was asked and…um…I declined the offer.” She shrugs. “We never really had much contact after that…because I’m not sure of how it’ll work out so I’m really nervous.”

“It’ll work out,” he encourages. He shouldn’t have. He really shouldn’t have. Because once they’re back in the office, once Tom steps out of the elevator, whispers and chatters could be heard all around him. He asks Butch what’s happening. “Is something wrong?”

“Zachary Williams is coming back, Tom. And we all know what that means,” he smiles, “wedding of the century!”

“What wedding?” he asks. There’s a small smile on his face; he’s never been fond of weddings but he has imagined himself as a groom in more than one occasion.

There are cheers and claps coming from near the door. There’s a sharp-dressed man with dark hair and blue eyes. Handsome. People are shouting “welcome back” to him. The man smiles sheepishly as he acknowledges the ones around him. With careful and confident strides, he stops in front of Tom’s desk.

“Are you Tom Hansen?”

“Uh…yeah. Can I help you?”

“I’m Zack Williams. I heard you’re close to Snow.” There’s a pause and Tom can figure out why. “She isn’t in her office upstairs. Her dad didn’t notice her slip away and her secretary won’t give me proper answers. Would you happen to know where she is?”

Tom shakes his head. She hasn’t IM-ed or texted him. “I’m sorry, no.”

“Oh, I see. I also heard you two have dinner together almost every night,” the man says with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, “do you mind if you bring her to Sundae’s Best tonight? The restaurant near the theatres in—”

“Yeah, I know where that is,” Tom cuts him off gently, “and sure, I’ll bring her.”

“Thanks,” Zack smiles, “thanks a lot, Tom.”

“He introduced himself as Zack to you, Tom,” Sasha says as she fans herself with her hand, “that’s big. He must really want you to bring Miss Lanché to Sundae’s Best. He introduces himself as Zachary to everyone who isn’t in the same status.” Butch jokes that Zack could have him murdered if he doesn’t bring Snow to Sundae’s Best. He doesn’t want to take the chance. Zack Williams really looks like someone who could do that.

When he meets up with Snow for dinner, he suggests that they go to Sundae’s Best. She tells him that he doesn’t like the place because it’s too expensive. “Did Zack put you up to this?” she asks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he murmurs.

“If it was him, you have to tell me, Tom,” she demands, “I don’t know how to answer him yet. I can’t…Tom! Is it Zack?”

“Yes,” he answers, finally, “but you can’t back out now.” They’ve stopped right in front of the store and Zack waves at them from behind the glass door. “What did he ask you, Ava?” She doesn’t answer, instead she takes a deep breath and enters the building. Tom follows and he’s surprised to see some of his co-workers but he sits on one of the stools beside Butch. “What’s happening?”

Sasha appears and begins to squeal. “Oh my god, it’s happening! It’s happening! We’re getting an answer!”

“Who is Zack Williams anyway?” Tom asks.

“Zachary Williams, is only only the heir to the Williams fortune! They own the Kipping Bank!” Sasha replies.

“So I’m no match for him,” he mumbles dully.

Butch turns to him. “You like Miss Lanché?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Tom,” Sasha says in a whisper, rubbing Tom’s shoulder sympathetically. “I…I…well, for what it’s worth,” she begins to bite her lip, “I’ve always thought that Miss Lanché had a thing for you. I think she rather fancies you more than she ever fancied Mr. Williams.”

“That doesn’t boost up my spirit at all, Sasha. And awhile ago you were cheering for him,” Tom reminds her sourly. “Or are you sorry for that, too?”

She frowns. “I was just…they were the power couple, Tom. They’re meant to be together.”

“Save it, Sasha,” Butch snaps, handing Tom a beer. “Drink. It might help.”

Tom rolls his eyes but takes down a huge gulp, not minding the burn that goes down his throat as the liquid passes by.

“Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, I’d just like to make a little speech for the most beautiful woman in here.”

It’s Zack and Tom can’t look away from the scene playing in front of him. Snow is standing awkwardly in the middles of the room, facing him, with Zack beside her and looking at her like she’s the best the best thing in the world. And for Tom, he can’t blame Zack because she probably is the best thing in the world.

“Snow, three years ago I asked for your hand in marriage. You didn’t accept because you said you that you needed time. I was heartbroken. But I respected your decision and gave you the space you wanted. So I went ahead to Europe despite being so angry at myself because I haven’t won you over and I just kept wishing that I had you waiting for me here as my future wife. I hope the time we spent apart from each other was enough for you to think…and ask you again. I love you, Snow. I have never stopped loving you. I would think about you every day. You’re amazing. Simply amazing. I’m not telling everyone here our story for sympathy, but I wanted them to hear our journey.” He gets down on one knee, reveals a black velvet box from his vest and asks, “Will you marry me?”

Snow doesn’t reply at first. She looks around her and then, their eyes connect. Her eyes are pleading but Tom doesn’t falter. Looking down at the man, she says, “Yes.”

*~*

(857)

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks her.

Snow had the decency to visit him in his apartment the next day, and he’s not sure whether to be happy or not. He had wanted to talk to her since last night but never had the guts to call her, and he’s also…hurt. It’s like his ex-girlfriends (and not so ex-girlfriend) all over again. Except he and Snow never had a romantic or sexual relationship.

“I didn’t think it was important.”

His voice rises, “I’m your…” and then stops himself, “your best friend. You could have told me you had a boyfriend who’s out of the country.”

“He isn’t my boyfriend,” she corrects.

“Right, he’s your fiancé now.” He rolls his eyes.

“Yes, he was my boyfriend but we took a break when he asked me to marry him because I didn’t feel the connection. I thought that there was someone out there for me. I love Zack, I really do, but not in the same way as…not the same way I love you, Tom.”

“You picked him last night.”

“Because you said you don’t feel the same way!” she snaps. “Why are you so mad? He was also my best friend before but it changed when he left. There was awkwardness and no sense of closure. He asked me to marry him three years ago and I declined.”

“If you knew he was coming back then you should have never told me that you loved me.”

“But I did and I still do! I thought you felt the same way, that’s why I told you. When you told me that you didn’t feel the same way, I didn’t want to tell you about him right away because I didn’t want you to think that you might have just been a scapegoat! And then it just slipped my mind, but I found out that he was coming home earlier than expected and I just panicked.”

“Well I love you!” Tom shouts.

She stands still. “What?”

“I love you,” he repeats. “I love you, Ava! And yes, I admit, this whole argument is my fault, I should have told you sooner that I love you. I fucking love you, Ava! And now that you have…that,” he eyes her engagement ring, “and him….”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

*~*

(745)

“I think I love her,” Tom says to his sister. They’re in the diner and he’s telling her all about Snow. Rachel seems happy for him and she urges him to tell her. “Do you think it’s too late, though?”

“She’s still with you, isn’t she?” Rachel confirms. “She hasn’t told you about some boy she’s seeing, right?”

He searches the back of his mind for an answer. “You’re right. I’ll tell her.”

*~*

(747)

He’s being blocked by a stack of boxes inside the elevator. The men pushing the cart had apologized but the people inside were squeezed like tuna in a can. That’s when he overhears some gossiping workers.

“Miss Lanché is hanging out with that architect a lot.”

“The cute one?”

“Tom, I think is his name. I think they make a cute couple, don’t you think?”

He feels himself smile at that.

“But she can do so much better,” the same person continues.

He frowns.

“I agree. She’s beautiful, she’s smart, she’s the heiress to this company and she’s rich. She can have any man she wants and she’s going to get it with someone who’s not even in the highest position in the architecture department?”

“But I heard that Mr. Lanché is close to Tom. Surely he doesn’t want his precious daughter to marry someone of…lesser status, right?”

The elevator dings and the doors open. He hears their voices begin to soften and he deducts that they’ve gotten off. Their words continue to ring in his ears and infiltrate his mind.

That night, he calls Rachel and tells her what happened. “They said that!? Those bitches.”

*~*

(903)

Their relationship was never the same. They constantly tried to avoid each other. Once, he was on a blind date with a woman. It wasn’t a disaster until the very end; he called the wrong name in bed. He even said ‘Snow’. This caused the woman to make him leave right away. Talking to Paul and McKenzie didn’t help either. Rachel was helpful but she wasn’t always present.

Just a week ago, the newspapers, tabloids and especially magazines, have been posting pictures of the newly engaged couple. Many journalists have tried setting up interviews, but with Snow living a private life and Zack busy, all were turned down. Tom hates seeing headlines and pictures of them together.

Tonight is the annual winter ball and Tom had tried his hardest to look his best. He wanted to impress people, to show them that he can just be as good looking as Zachary Williams. Last year, Mr. Lanché had informed them that his daughter wouldn’t be able to make it due to her illness; now that he thinks about, Tom hopes that she wasn’t too sick.

When he reaches the hotel, cameras are flashing around. Last year, he had Butch and Sasha walk the red carpet with him. This year, he knows how to handle it and he swiftly gets inside the building. In the ballroom of a lavish hotel, Tom sticks mostly to Butch and Sasha.

“Do you know when they’ll be arriving?” he asks.

“Miss Lanché always makes an entrance, her gowns are to die for,” Sasha fawns. “I wonder what she’ll wear tonight.”

After about half an hour, the doors open, Sasha squeals, and in comes Mr. Lanché in a custom suit, with a tie that that matches his wife’s blue dress. Zack is also with them, and his tie is silk silver. And then there’s Snow. Her dress is silver with beautiful, elegant patterns all over it. There’s even a snowflake that hides her cleavage. At first glance, it looks like a skimpy, narrow, off-the shoulder dress that reaches the floor. But upon closer inspection, Tom sees that the skin that is revealed at the topmost of her body is being covered by sheer material. Her hair is down, with ringlets around her shoulder, and her make-up is not at all exaggerated.

“Are you going to just stare at her,” Butch starts, “or are you actually going to go talk to her?”

Tom does manage to talk to her. It’s already eleven when he gets the chance, though. All she did so far was socialize with the elite and talk and dance with Zack. He spotted her leaving the room and heading to the restroom. “Ava!” he calls out when they’re alone.

She turns around. “Tom.”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Sure,” she says, “what’s up?”

“Um…first, you look very beautiful tonight.”

She smiles. “Thank you, Tom. You look very handsome yourself.”

Taking a deep breath, he says. “And…I don’t want you to marry Zack.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“I love you, Ava. And…I can tell that you don’t love Zack.”

“I loved him before, Tom,” she says, folding her arms in front of her, “I can love him again just as much, maybe even more. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to check my appearance.” As she starts to walk away, he can’t help but tell her one more time about how beautiful she looks. “Thank you.”

*~*

(1385)

The day of the wedding.

He had planned on not going, to spare himself, but Butch and Sasha had made him go. Paul and McKenzie thought it was a bad choice until they thought of an idea. It would be embarrassing from the beginning, probably be the laughing stock if it failed, but hey, if it works, then it’ll be all worth it.

Even if it’s the most beautiful wedding he’s ever gone to, even if it took months for this to happen, and Snow’s dress is as beautiful as she is, and maybe the cameras around the church would make things more nerve-wracking, he didn’t want to back out.

So as the priest says the words that he’s been waiting for, Tom jumps up from his seat, pretending that the wedding is a disaster and that the cameras all over the place would not face him and dare put his name in the headlines next to the wedding of the century’s or that Zack and his family could probably declare him missing in a day, and exclaims, “I object!”

Gasps could be heard all around. Snow and Zack turn to look at him with wide eyes. Snow begins to shake her head, wanting to save him from embarrassment, most likely.

“I’m not rich, I’m not the heir to some company and I may not be as good looking as the groom,” he starts, swallowing down his pride, “but I work hard, I’m educated and I love you, Ava. I should have told you sooner, I know I should have and we could have saved ourselves from this, but I was terrified. I didn’t…I didn’t want to be turned down because I wasn’t worthy of you. You’re beautiful, you’re smart, you’re the heir to one of the world’s biggest companies even when you want to be a teacher.” He smiles when he sees her smiling. “In society’s eyes I’m not worthy of you, but I can prove to you that I am. I can and I will.”

She smiles wider. He grins. It doesn’t even take her a second to decide as she quickly turns back to the man in front of her. “Zack—”

“Save it,” he stops her, “let’s not go through the drama. I should have known something was up when you hesitated to answer my proposal.”

“Zack, I’m so sorry.”

He shrugs and kisses the top of her forehead. “This doesn’t mean that I’m burning and drowning at the same time inside.”

She frowns as he casually steps down and moves pass everyone. His parents run after him but not before they give evil eyes at the bride. Cameras flash and murmurs can be heard. She lowers her eyes for a moment before walking down as well. She stops in front of her parents and gives them a pleading look.

Mr. Lanché smiles at her. “Just because I’m your father and I own a company doesn’t mean that I’ll stop you.”

“He must be really worthy if he had the courage to stop a wedding that’s being watched by millions,” Mrs. Lanché adds.

Snow hugs them both before running to Tom who had been waiting for her in the aisle. She jumps and he catches her effortlessly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he responds. “It would’ve been easier if you broke off the engagement,” he jokes.

“And give you an easy time? I don’t think so,” she says. She smiles and kisses him.

*~*

(2480)

Three years of dating all leads to this.

It’s snowing outside and Snow had thought of building a snowman, just for fun. They’re now on the body, with Tom handing out buttons that had fallen off shirts for Snow to press on their masterpiece. “There’s one more,” he says.

“We don’t need more,” she argues and then looks at the man, “do we?”

“He needs a heart,” Tom continues and hands the item in his hand to her.

“If you say so,” Snow says smiling and begins to put the round item on the man made of snow. But as she does, she looks at it first and then gasps. “This isn’t a button, Tom.”

He shakes his head and gets down on one knee. “Ever since you came into my life, everything’s changed. You’re my good luck charm, if you didn’t notice. And I tried my best to show you how worthy I am to be yours and for you to be mine. Now that my position in your family’s company is more secure,” he had just been promoted to president of the architecture division, “and I finally realized why all my past relationships didn’t work, and why winter is my favorite season,” he kisses the back of her hand, “it’s because of you. You know I love you. I love you so much. And I would love to come home and call for my wife.”

“We work in the same place and get off at the same time.” She giggles.

He smiles. “Then I get to say, 'I get to go home with my wife’ every day. And I think we’re ready to have Casey and Spencer, too, don’t you think? I know I’m ready to teach Casey all my tricks and spoil my princess Spencer.”

She laughs. “Does that mean I’m the less-fun parent?”

“We can be both.” He chuckles. “So what do you say? Will you marry me, Snow?”

She grins. “Yes, Tom. I will marry you.”

Despite his bad luck with…life, in general, Tom finally did get a happy ending.

*~*

(1)

[janelevy]

Prompt: Connor's sister Claire, wanting to meet Ava for dinner

i did my best to keep claire in character, but with what little we’ve seen of her (i’m almost positive the med writers forgot connor has a sister after s1), i don’t think it’ll be a big deal if she is or not. enjoy!

It wasn’t often that Ava found herself nervous, but she couldn’t deny the fizzy feeling in her stomach as she walked into the restaurant. She got there extra early to give herself time to mentally prepare and to make sure she would be the first one there. She walked up to the hostess stand and after she was seated, told the hostess that she was expecting someone else in about twenty minutes. She let them go ahead and pour two glasses of water, the ice cubes clinking way too loud and ringing in her ears. Then she ordered herself a dry martini to start off because this was definitely going to be a long dinner.

“Claire’s really sweet when you get to know her,” Connor had assured her when he told her about the “date” he set up for his girlfriend and his probably equally unwilling sister. “She just, you know, still kind of hates my guts.”

In response to that, Ava had tilted her head and scowled at him. “No, really? And you think she’ll be delighted to meet the doctor who let her father die?”

Connor’s face hardened and became completely serious after that. He stepped closer to her in the empty doctors’ lounge and pulled her into a tight embrace. A million years ago Ava would’ve been embarrassed by the action, but any of their colleagues who might walk by had witnessed enough of their PDA to not even bat an eyelash at it anymore.��

“Hey,” he’d said firmly, leaning back, making eye contact, and resting his hands on her shoulders. “Avey, you know none of that was your fault. Nobody knew that heart implant was a faulty product, least of all you. You wouldn’t have installed it if you knew what would happen.”

“Yes, but he was still under my care and--”

“It happened in the middle of the night during a shift change. You and I were at home and fast asleep. What could’ve been done?” Connor didn’t wait for a reply, which was wise because it didn’t give her room to object again. “Nothing. What happened, happened. It’s in the past. And Claire knows that too.”

Ava sighed. She really wished he would be able to come with her to dinner tonight, but he had traded shifts with another doctor so now he would be working through the night. Ava almost wanted to accuse him of trading shifts on purpose so he could avoid possible fallout between her and Claire at dinner, but then again, she had seen how exhausted Connor was when he got home last night hours after her. The emergency surgery he’d been called into ended up lasting forever. Needless to say, he deserved to sleep in this morning. It just sucked that the only time she would really see him today was right then in the lounge as she was leaving and he was coming in.

Ava was still mulling over this when she noticed Claire Rhodes herself sitting down across from her at the small table. Ava gulped and played with the end of the white silk tablecloth. Damn, Claire was almost ten minutes early. Ava wasn’t ready to talk to her yet, she still needed to think about what she would say! She wasn’t nervous just because of what happened to Cornelius - she also felt the need to impress her boyfriend’s little sister and earn her stamp of approval. But it seemed like the odds were already stacked against her.

“Hello. Ava, right?” Claire smiled and held out her hand for Ava to shake.

Ava took it and nodded, plastering what she hoped was a friendly, relaxed expression on her face. (It probably wasn’t.) “Hi, Claire. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise.” Claire gave the waiter her drink order and took a tiny sip of water. “So how have you been? Must be hectic sharing a place with my brother.”

“It’s... not too bad. He’s a bit of a snorer, though.”

They both laughed, and Ava felt her heart shed one layer of jittery nerves. So far, so good.

“That reminds me - I remember when Connor and I were really little, before he left, he would...” Claire paused there, and Ava’s heart jolted a little. Before he left. Connor had relayed to her a while ago about how hurt Claire was when he escaped Chicago and left her with their less than affectionate single father. Apparently she had still never completely forgiven him for it. Privately Ava wondered if Claire even liked working at the family department store.

Then she continued, “... he would, uh, always invite me to play racecars with him. We’d put our little matchbox cars out on the floor and drag them around. Carlotta would always scold us for marking up the fancy rug. But the sound effects Connor used to mimic racecar noises - I’ll never forget it.” She chuckled and went on, “For some reason he would use his nose instead of his mouth, and snort like a pig, which didn’t sound anything like a revving engine. I think he did it on purpose to make me laugh.” 

Again, the two of them laughed. Ava was amazed she had gotten a childhood story, however brief and innocent, out of Claire within the first ten minutes. Still, she couldn’t help but think about the underlying tone behind Claire’s words. That pause was really only a few seconds, but it had felt like hours. It was long enough for Ava to receive the message that relations between the siblings were still far from resolved. It wasn’t any average brother-sister relationship, and it was definitely something Ava would never be able to fully understand as an only child.

She and Claire continued talking, exchanging little anecdotes about Connor. Ava doubted Connor’s goal in getting them to meet was to spend the entire time making fun of him, but that was exactly what they were doing. Not that there was anything wrong with that; besides, it kept things on the light and cheerful side. Cornelius still had yet to come up and Ava was grateful. She was also hearing many little snippets of Connor’s childhood that even he had never told her. It was sweet. As imperfect as life had been growing up for him, especially following his mother’s suicide, Claire was offering her the perspective of the younger sister who had been too little at the time to understand things were amiss - at least, until Connor grew up and left her behind.

It was roughly halfway through the meal when Claire turned the tables on her. As another round of laughs faded, the younger woman sat back in her seat and set her fork down. “You know,” she said, drumming her fingers on the table, “this dinner date wasn’t only Connor’s idea.”

Ava raised her brows slightly and stared at Claire, silently willing her to elaborate. Claire looked back at her, and not for the first time tonight Ava was taken aback by her icy blue eyes - the same blue eyes as her brother’s.

“I suggested meeting you first, actually. The few times each year we actually talk to each other, he always finds a way to work you into the conversation. Eventually it became obvious to me that you weren’t just a coworker, you meant something more to him.” She hesitated, and Ava wanted to say something then, but she didn’t even know where to begin. Luckily Claire filled the silence again with more shocking words. “I... I imagine you must still feel some guilt over what happened with my father. Connor’s father.”

Ava looked down at the cloth napkin in her lap. The food in her stomach was suddenly roiling, and she could feel the sweat dripping down her back under her loose blouse.

“I’m so sorry--” she started, but Claire interrupted.

“No. You don’t have to say it. I- I know you must’ve said it a thousand times by now. It’s not your fault, Ava. I get that now.” Claire sighed. “My father was... well, he wasn’t a perfect man. There are times when I miss him a lot, which might be strange, I don’t know. But now that he’s gone, I’ve begun to realize how important family is, and that I have to try to mend things with Con. So that’s what I’ve been working on. One of the first steps was meeting you. And I like you a lot, Ava. You’re perfect for him.”

Now Ava knew the smile stretching her lips was genuine. “Thank you,” she said, amazed.

“Really,” Claire said. “You complement him in every way, and you contrast him in so many ways, but it works. I was so excited when he told me about proposing--”

This time it was Ava’s turn to interrupt, but she did it by way of choking on her drink. She slammed the glass back down, coughed a couple times until tears were in her eyes, then gasped, “What?”

Claire’s eyes were wide and panicked, the same way Connor’s would get whenever he pissed Ava off. “Oh! Oh my god. I- I did not mean to say that out loud. Sorry!” She gritted her teeth, searching Ava’s face. “But yes, he is planning to...” She trailed off, waving her hands helplessly. “You get the point.”

Ava shook her head. This must’ve been the fiftieth time she was ambushed out of nowhere tonight. She exhaled and smiled to show Claire there was nothing to be upset about. “That’s fine. Seriously. I just... wow, I had no idea. He’s usually terrible at hiding things.”

Claire smirked. “Believe me, I know.” There was a pause, then she shyly asked, “So, what do you think your answer will be?”

“I have a feeling it’ll be yes,” Ava replied, “if he impresses me enough.”

“Knowing Connor, he’ll achieve that.” Claire lifted her glass and clinked it against Ava’s. “A toast to my future sister-in-law. Sorry again about the reveal.”

Ava’s grin stayed strong, and right before she took a drink, she said, “Don’t sweat it. You just made my entire night.”

When Ava woke up the next morning, Connor was in bed next to her, and had probably only been there a half-hour before her alarm went off. She rolled over to face him and was met with a pair of anxious blue eyes. “Well?” he murmured groggily. “How was last night? Was Claire nice?”

“Honey, it was better than you could ever imagine.” Ava kissed his nose and ran a hand over his feathery dark hair. “Now go back to sleep. I’ll tell you all about it later.”

[walkinsauce]

To Mom, Or Not To Mom... That Is The Question

Okay, so this isn’t pertaining to my usual topic of polyamory or Tinder dates, but I guest blogged on my friend Rhiannon’s blog about motherhood. (Have I ever used that word before? Probs not.) It’s basically a letter from me, a non-mom, to moms. I thought I’d post it here, on my own blog, so you guys know:

a. I’m still alive.

b. I’m still writing.

I’ve posted a link to her blog at the end, to corner you into reading my blog first. Enjoy.

Dear Moms,

Sup? It’s me, non-mom. From the alternate universe. The one you wondered if you might end up in. And you’re a mom, the one I still wonder if I’ll ever be. Don’t you wish there was a reboot of Sliding Doors, but instead of the two trains, there’s one Gwyneth that has a baby and one that doesn’t? Which life ends up better? Which has more love? More pain? More meaning?

(And if you’ve seen the movie, less waiting tables?)

I used to think I was a weirdo for not having maternal instinct. I’m being very deliberate when I use the term “maternal instinct.” It’s annoying when people assume women who don’t want kids, don’t like kids. I do like kids. I’m a proud, fun aunt, capris and patterned tops to boot. I also love my friends’ kids. (Hi Porter!*) I’m just very self aware that I don’t have that natural instinct that most women have, to birth one.

I started noticing maternal instinct creeping up on my girlfriends in our early twenties. I used to wait tables at a rib restaurant with my good friend Sarah. These were back in the days we’d actually still serve in heels. (Ooof.) For months, I saw Sarah’s face light up every time a baby in a stroller came in. She got SO excited. Played peak-a-boo at the speed of a good improvisor. I’d usually just stare at the baby, and wonder how much food I was gonna have to sweep from under the table once they left. I was also tracking how much Sarah held her breath at tables with seniors, who were marinating in perfumes and Bengay. Finally, one day I made a deal with her:

“Hey, I’ll take the geriatrics if you take the kids.”

And that was the beginning of a beautiful server partnership. And my first sign that I actually might not have maternal instinct. You can force a lot of things in life- a laugh, a zipper, one or nineteen extra things in a suitcase… BUT- you can’t force maternal instinct. And I’m no professional, but I don’t think you should.

If I had it, I’d use it. But I don’t. So this is my life.

To be fair, I was a very popular babysitter as a teenager. You had to book me a month in advance if you wanted me to watch your kids on a Saturday night. I had a regular gig looking after Heather and Shevaun every day after school for three years. In some ways, I feel like I’ve already raised kids. And for cheap! Four dollars an hour. You can only wish for child care prices like that these days. (I did make them all watch The Young and the Restless though.) I was a one woman Babysitters Club. And I took every dime you paid me and bought Guess Jeans and Espirit T-Shirts. Thank you for giving me the gift of being able to afford such style. My dad was still trying to pay off the Nova.

I owe a lot to moms. More so to my own, who got pregnant with me at 18. I often feel like I’m living my 20’s and 30’s for two. I’m grateful to my sister, who has kids. Now I have the pleasure of being a long distance aunt, who enjoys sending creepy cat postcards. (And when I say creepy cats, I mean creepy.) My parents have grandchildren, and I still have a silly dream I mustered up at 18. And they seem to be equally proud of both of us. (BLESS supportive parents. Living in L.A. for two years has proved to me that not everyone has them.)

I’m not one who likes to argue existential debates. I know what I feel, and I go with that. Plain and simple. If I’m doing life “wrong,” then so be it. When I started comedy, twenty years ago, I seemed to be the only one plugging that childfree life. There was an untapped well of jokes in this department at the time. Like:

“I’d rather look pregnant than get pregnant…”

“I honestly believe that smiling at a child at Loblaws… is just as good as motherhood.”

Now I almost feel hacky for doing these jokes. There are now at least two generations under me that are done with the patriarchy. I also have girlfriends who are praying they get the tail end of it. If there’s one thing I’m sure about, it’s that no two women have the same plans for life.

I had the best interaction with a mom at a BBQ the other day. I was scooping some sort of festive salad on to my paper plate when I found myself embarrassed about the state of my finger nails.

“Oooof. I should have at least clipped my nails into some sort of shape where they don’t look like jigsaw puzzle pieces.”

She responded with,

“You should see my toe nails.”

“Mine too!”

(Hard to say “me too” anymore.)

We instantly bonded. That’s the one thing that always connects me with a lot of moms. Our lack of “pretty girl” esthetics. Of course, for a mom it’s probably due to a serious lack of extra time. I have no excuse. I just don’t care.

At this same party, I ended up bonding with another chick. She was my age, and like me, of the childless lifestyle. Much like two moms who meet and bond over having the same age kids, me and this girl found a twinship over not having kids. It’s equally exciting for us! (I got this term “twinship” from my bff Melissa, who will probs get nervous that I’m quoting her, and will text and say “NO! It’s not my term! I read it in a book! I don’t want people to think I made it up. I feel bad.” And if you know me, you know I also have a twinship with Melissa.)

The cool thing is, either way, women are finding connections with each other. And isn’t that all that matters?

“Thanks” to social media, moms and non-moms believe they have a good look into each others lives. You probably think I take 82 vacations a year (or so it seems), and I get scared your kids are going to be fully grown before my career takes off. When I see moms in my fave coffee shop on Montana Ave, I’m mostly jealous of their cookie purchases. I have no excuse for buying a cookie. At least you can say,

“… and a cookie, for little Ava here.”

And then you eat half the cookie. I see what’s happening there. Bless kids for giving grown-ups a reason to eat cookies. I can’t buy a cookie. It’ll look like I just got dumped or something.

I know there’s still a good chance I will end up a step mom, and I gotta tell you…

I’m into it. I actually like the idea of being a step mom. Rhiannon seemed shocked when I told her this. I know fairy tales ruined the idea of step-anythings decades ago, but what’s so bad about it? Kids aren’t dumb. Parents are exhausted. Two moms and two dads just may be what it takes. Plus, I’m probably gonna skip the sleepless nights and crazy medical bills. (America only.) OH, but I can tell how shit my reputation is by how long it takes a single dad to introduce me to his kid…

(That’s a good sign for divorced mom’s though. I can rest assure you that your baby daddy is picky about who they let in to your child’s life.)

I better wrap this up. I told Rhiannon I would keep my babbling to a max of 1500 words. (What mom has the time for more?)

In closing, I’d like to thank all moms for their clothes at clothing swaps. Your maternity clothes are my beer drinking clothes. I’m a woman who loves to bloat. Thank you for joining me in my love for Birkenstocks. (Sorry, Allison Dore.) Oh, but to the moms who lose the baby weight five seconds after having a kid, and walk into the coffee shop with your stroller and size zero yoga pants…

Fuck you.

Just kidding.

Have a cookie.

Signed with a shit tonne of respect,

Your new non-mom friend,

Christina Walkinshaw

*Porter is three and while he’s starting to read, I’m pretty sure this isn’t his genre. I need a scratch and sniff blog. Send toy cars.

Here’s Rhiannon’s response to this blog:

http://theobliviouschildblog.tumblr.com/post/176022952325/to-be-or-not-to-bea-stepmom

[ryrepko-blog]

Handmade Minimalism

Handmade Minimalism

           The next movement in graphic design will be Handmade Minimalism. This movement is based on the Minimalism style, Swiss design (Douglas 1). I imagine the same kind of unique and interesting compositions as used in Swiss design, but rather than photos, going back to using hand drawn pieces of art. Since the use of hand-lettering has gotten more and more popular, and more companies prefer hand-drawn logos or typefaces rather than using something that already exists, this will also play a big part in this movement. Because hand drawn images and typefaces have so much more character than a downloadable font, or stock photo, I think that graphic design will be heading in that direction.

         Although this movement has a lot of handmade art integrated into graphic design, the minimalism style is also present here. Simple drawings, or pieces of art but nothing too complex or detailed. Line drawings, irregular shapes. Even though more type will be hand drawn, paragraphs and some typesetting will still use fonts. I believe the use of san serif typefaces will still be used frequently because they are easily read and effective, especially in more professional pieces of design (Rosicky 1). Instead of the combination of a serif and san serif, I think companies will stick to one font with varying sizes or weights.  

I think the vintage style will make a comeback, but it will be a more minimalist vintage. Only the best parts of the vintage style like the type and texture, without some of the unnecessary information that is sometimes added to fill space. In this case, I think the serifs can work well, it’s when it’s blocky and plain looking that it doesn’t fit the handmade minimalism style. I also think character design will be more simplistic as well. More and more people have been able to create such unique characters without so many details and shading.

         Color use will also be minimal in this movement in logo design. Many companies have already successfully done this, including Facebook, twitter, Tumblr, and Instagram’s new logo. Instagram’s new logo is a great example of a logo changing its design to be more minimal. The old logo had eight colors and a semi detailed old fashioned camera. This new logo features a new simple line drawing for the icon, and a blur of 3 colors in the background. I think most logos will contain 2 colors, like the Facebook and Tumblr icon, and sometimes three like Pandora and Instagram. Another example is the new subway logo. It uses the arrows in an interesting way to form an ‘S’ in the negative space. This uses the use of irregular shapes, and 2-3 colors (Zulfqar 1). Not everything in this movement is necessarily drawn out, but the arrows are clearly edited. I imagine the designer definitely had to sketch this on paper at least to get the shape correct. When it isn’t being used for branding purposes, I believe color will be rich and bright. Unique use of color, straying away from the normal red, orange, yellow, green, blue, violet. More varying tones and hues, different and more interesting colors, like mint or peach.

         Most logos unless they’re for hospitals, or government facilities, will be handmade. Companies will make this switch after seeing the effectiveness of those type of logos with other companies (Rosicky 1). Hand drawn means there’s nothing like that logo or font anywhere, helping to farther differentiate that company. Stock photos will phase out of existence. These same photos have been used and seen far too many times to excite anyone who sees them on a website or poster. People will be taking more of their own photos, but more than that, people will be drawing their own versions of these photos. Although each photo is different, they can still be of the same product. So, to make the photo even more unique, people will begin to favor digital drawings in some cases rather than real photos.

         All websites will be responsive, and all companies and brands will have their own application. Logos will have to be more than just good looking, they’ll also be animated. A simple 2 second animation, very short, but the logos should be interactive. Maybe it blinks, jumps, waves, something short that makes sense to that brand. Besides the logos being interactive, websites will also be much more interactive. Visiting a website should be an experience (Zulfqar 1). An example of this is snapchat. When you pull down to refresh your stories, there’s a ghost animation that winks at you. This is really simple and ingenious and more companies will start to do the same.

         I believe that in the future, mostly everything will be touchscreen. Computers won’t need mice anymore. When you go to a website and touch a button, picture, or anything else on the site, it’ll have a quick animation, so that you know you’ve touched it. Since there will be no more clicking noise, the animation will replace that. There will be incredible advancements in technology, not only with our computers and smart phones, but with virtual reality equipment as well (Douglas 1). Companies and brands will begin to take advantage of this new technology and turn their site into not only an online experience, but a real life one too. For example, if it’s a for a restaurant, you’ll be able to see the food in 3D, walk around the restaurant like you’re actually there, and even smell the food.

         Advertisements will be completely reinvented. With touchscreen devices and even virtual reality taking over, companies will want to use this technology to sell their products (Rosicky 1). Some companies have already successfully used touchscreens rather than real servers to order food and other items efficiently and with ease. However, many of these screens are cluttered, and not designed well. In this movement, all advertisements from billboards to menus will be interactive, and designed to be simple and minimalistic, but fun. People will spend more time looking at your ad if it’s interactive, it offers them something more than just words on a poster. If it’s not a touchscreen device, I imagine ads having something you can scan with your phone to get the full experience.

         Some of the advantages of this new style is that mostly everything will be completely original digital art. Seeing the same fonts and popular stock photos all over just isn’t as authentic as handmade art and typefaces. Companies will no longer be generic and boring looking because they’re not using the same boring fonts, shapes and colors. Advertisements will be more fun to interact with, so they’ll buy more. Some disadvantages of this movement are that anyone who isn’t especially great at drawing may struggle more to get work, because people won’t be able to just go online and find the perfect stock photo. It will be more timely work, and more steps in refining sketches of drawings and hand lettering. Another disadvantage is that just being able to design something won’t be good enough anymore, you’ll have to know how to animate it as well, or at least now how to explain to someone perfectly what you want animated. Learning this new skill will take time, but I imagine students will be required to code and animate more the future.

         Overall the Handmade Minimalism movement is handmade art, in the forms of drawing, hand lettering, or altering already existing shapes. Stock photos won’t exist, and will be replaces by hand drawn images, logos and icons. However, in some cases those won’t even exist because the experience will be totally in virtual reality. Advertisements all over will be interactive, instead of people looking briefly and walking on, they’ll actually be stopping to look and interact with the ad.

1. This is a good example of what I mean by hand drawn images rather than stock photos. Skeletons are tough to draw, but rather than getting a stock photo this person drew their own skeleton which has character.

2. This is an example of what I mean by using irregular shapes. Arrows are normally straight, or at least not curved like that. This is a great use of minimalism and negative space in an icon/logo.

3. The logo and advertisements for the Youngstown Flea uses a combination of handmade image and type, including some san serifs in the ad part. This is a good example of what I mean by combining handmade art and simple sans serifs.

 References

Douglas, Ava. "History of Graphic Design Movements." History of Graphic Design. N.p.,

         2017. Web. 20 Apr. 2017. <http://www.historygraphicdesign.com/>.

Rosicky, Jan. "Graphic Design History." Graphic Design History Timeline. N.p., 2015.

         Web. 20 Apr. 2017. <http://gdh.2rsolutions.cz/>.

Zulfqar, Amna. "Graphic Design Movements." Behance. N.p., 2017. Web. 20 Apr. 2017.

         <https://www.behance.net/gallery/1835047/Graphic-Design-Movements>.

[thebrokensaltzman]

Collide | Legacies / Riverdale Crossover - Chapter 3

Hope

Sighing, I pulled the key out of the ignition lock of the car and sank against the seat. Alaric had asked me to leave quickly for the family and pick up the food they had ordered at short notice. The man himself, as well as Caroline, had enough to do with unpacking the boxes. Although only Caroline helped properly. Josie made the whole thing somehow only more strenuous than that she really helped and Ava only pretended as if she would unpack. But that still made the two girls a bigger help than Lizzie, who had refused to help from the start.

Her reason had been that she hadn't wanted the move at all and that she preferred that all her things stayed in the boxes, so she didn't help. Alaric had said that he wasn't exactly enthusiastic about it, but he hadn't said anything about it. Probably he hadn't had the desire or the strength to discuss with his daughter on this already tiring day.

Therefore the director of the Salvatore Boarding School had given me the task to drive to the address to pick up her order. Although Ava was already 17 and was allowed to drive accompanied, I was the only one who already had a real driving license.

Sighing, I let the car key disappear in the pocket of my leather jacket and then slowly opened the door. I had parked the car in one of the few parking lots in front of the diner because I didn't feel like going a long way.

The red light of the large illuminated sign pointing with an arrow at the small building cast a slight shadow on my face. Behind me, I closed the door again and then made sure the car was properly sealed.

Then I walked straight towards the entrance of the diner. By chance, I noticed a group of people from the corner of my eye. Somehow at that moment, my curiosity came up and I couldn't help but take a quick look in that direction.

Behind me I noticed several young people standing there leaning against their motorcycles and talking. As far as they could see, each of them was wearing a leather jacket and they were not talking quietly. But none of them seemed to notice me. They were too absorbed in their conversation.

Only one of them had lifted his head and looked in my direction. As far as I could tell through the darkness he had black hair and was a little taller than the other boys.

Before the people around him, however, became attentive to me, he turned his gaze away and I also directed my gaze forward again, since I was now only a few steps away from the entrance door. As I walked on I thought I could feel someone keeping his eyes on me. However, I did not turn around to see who it might be.

Instead, I pushed the door open and entered the restaurant. From the inside, a pleasant warmth came towards me and I sighed slightly. Although it hadn't been cold during the day, the air had become fresh in the evening. The soft ringing of the bell above the entrance announced my entering and I noticed how some of the guests turned their heads after me. But I paid little attention to that.

I preferred to walk purposefully towards the counter, behind which stood a round man who had already aged a little. The uniform he was wearing told me right away that he had to be an employee, which is why I moved towards him.

"Excuse me", I asked for the floor when I arrived at the counter. "Yes?", with a friendly smile, he then turned around to her. On his lips, a broad, friendly smile was to be seen that immediately evoked a pleasant feeling in me. This place was so strange to her, but still, she didn't feel as lost in the new area as she had thought.

"Hallo", he greeted me and took another step towards her, which allowed me to take a look at his name tag. Pop Tate' was written on it. Relaxed, I leaned on the surface with my elbows as I briefly considered how to formulate my words: "Um, I'm here to pick up an order for the Saltzman's. We ordered half an hour ago."

"Ah, yes, that's right," he nodded the man immediately and already turned to leave: "The things are almost ready. A moment of patience, please."

"Sure", I agreed and climbed without hesitation onto one of the barstools with the red cushion to wait.

At his words, Pop Tate disappeared from my field of vision. This gave me the chance to let my gaze wander through the ambiance for the first time. At this time of the day, some people were here. Among them, he recognized surprisingly many teenagers. Was it somehow such a thing in Riverdale to meet his friends here in the evening? At least the three teenagers - maybe at my age - who were sitting a bit far away from me gave this impression quite a bit. Maybe this place was like the Mystic Grill.

I didn't notice that I was still staring at the table with the three teenagers until the black-haired one of them looked over at me. For a moment our eyes met and then a little smile appeared on my lips. I briefly returned the smile, but then looked away again. After all, people here shouldn't think I'm strange from the first day I was in town.

I preferred to look at the small television, which was a bit far away from me. At that moment the news was running there, which I wasn't interested in, but maybe it could be a chance to find out more about the area. Also, I had to pass the time with something.

But after looking at the screen for a few seconds, I heard a female voice next to me: "Hey."

With a surprised look, I turned my head in the direction from which the words had penetrated my ears.

There sat the very girl who had seen my gaze when I had looked at her table.

"Hey," I replied instinctively and looked into her brown eyes: "Do you want to order something?"

"Yes", she nodded with a slight grin: "But I have to admit that I don't mind if I have company."

"I can understand that", I replied with a smile.

"Well, you're new here?!", to my surprise, her words didn't sound like a question, but more like a statement.

"Is that so obvious?" I asked with a surprised look and then looked down at myself: "What betrayed me?"

To my amazement she reacted with an amused laugh, driving herself through the shoulder-length black hair.

"Nothing," she grinned slightly: "I only know that. This facial expression."

My smile disappeared and I looked at her in amazement: "Facial expression?"

"Yes, that was exactly the expression I had a month ago", she explained: "But don't worry. It'll get better quickly."

"Wait!", I put my head slightly crooked and looked at her frowning: "You are new here too?"

Immediately she began to shake her head vehemently: "No, not anymore. For me, the status of the 'new' ones hasn't applied for weeks."

"Well, I'm not exactly hot for it either," I honestly admitted. After all, it had already been bad enough for me to be new to Salvatore School. But at least I could have been there who I was. Here I didn't just have to get used to a new place and a new school, but now I would have to hide my true nature - that of a supernatural being - for better or for worse. After all, Alaric would hardly allow the four of us to reveal that we were not normal at all.

"Here comes your order, Miss Saltzman", at that moment the voice of Pop Tate, already a little outdated, resounded again. He made me look away from the girl and look at the waiter instead.

"Um, thanks," I nodded, thrown off track by the last name for a moment.

Somehow it felt strange that someone started as 'Saltzman' and at the same time was considered to be part of the Saltzman family. Because although Alaric seemed to love playing the father figure for me and they had taken me with them when we had to leave Mystic Falls, I knew I would never really belong. I just didn't get blood connected with the others, as Ava did with the family.

After a few seconds, when I caught myself again, I pulled the money Alaric had given me to pay out of my jacket pocket. As soon as the man took it with a gentle smile, I reached for the bag that contained our food and from which fragrant fumes rose.

"Nice talking to you", I turned to the strange girl: "I have to go now."

I took a look at the bag and said: "Otherwise the food will get cold."

"I see", she replied and looked over her shoulder back to her table: "My friends probably wouldn't mind if I came back to them."

With these words she looked at Pop Tate, who was tampering with the cash register: "It occurs to me that I would like to order some more onion rings."

"Of course", the man said to himself:"I'll finish them off immediately and bring them to your table."

"Thank you, Pop Tate", the dark-haired girl replied with a smile and then nodded to me: "I guess you'll see her again somewhere."

With a nod I agreed with her before I lifted myself from my barstool: "I think so too."

After all, Riverdale didn't make a big impression on me even now.

With a short farewell, I turned back towards the door and started to move. I never wanted to let the food get cold. The ringing sounded again as I stepped out into the cold again and made my way back to the car. I could feel once more how a person's gaze rested on me. But I didn't turn around, I just walked on.

Back to chapter index

[freehealthguider]

How to save money on your big day

How to save money on your big day

I recently got engaged, which of course means everyone who has ever been married, been to a wedding or watched Love Actually has tracked me down with explicit instructions on how best to plan our big day. The advice varies wildly, aside from one key element: everyone is absolutely correct.

You don’t want your wedding to be too big, as it becomes too impersonal, but you don’t want it too small either, as this is your one big day, and why not make it a large celebration? They use their own wedding as the litmus test for how big or small is too big or small, insisting their day was perfect. To them, it was.

People who talk to you about weddings suddenly become stoic philosophers, offering circular meditations like “it’ll cost what it costs”, “this day only comes around once” and “it will be perfect, even if things don’t go perfectly”. Perfect.

Choosi released its Cost Of Love report last month, which clocked the average price of an Australian wedding at $24,660. MoneySmart has it at $36,200, which jives with most of the anecdotal evidence I’ve heard.

FOR MORE STORIES LIKE THIS GO TO NEWS.COM.AU

Both figures seem unreasonable to me and Choosi’s findings suggest I’m not alone in this thinking, with 90.7 per cent of those surveyed claiming the cost is too high. Yet, that’s the average cost. That’s a serious disconnect between what people think and what they do.

The actual day itself is just one element, too. There’s a buck’s party, a hen’s party, a bridal shower, an engagement party, a rehearsal dinner, a post-wedding brunch, a honeymoon, the flash mob Thriller dance, rehearsals for the flash mob Thrillerdance, hiring someone to choreograph the flash mob Thriller dance. The list goes on.

Related: Why I’ll never use Tinder

Related: What it really feels like for teenage boys to lose their virginity

It’s not just the happy couple who are feeling the pinch either. For example, the Choosi report states $513 as the average cost of a hen’s or buck’s party. If you have a destination wedding, there are travel costs, time off work, plus those three cans of Red Bull you need to stay awake through the actual ceremony.

In short: weddings are expensive.

An article ran on this website last Wednesday in which a bride spoke of the cost of her Byron Bay wedding blowing out from $35K to $50 large. (Sorry, weddings make me talk like a ’30s mobster.) Despite this 43 per cent blowout, she mostly seemed pleased they didn’t go into debt, rightly stating: “At the end of the day it’s only one day and you don’t want to be having to pay that back for years and years.”

This is true — going into that much debt for a wedding seems like madness. So does spending $50,000 on a single day, regardless of how pretty everything will look after being shrunk into a phone-sized square and washed out with the Nashville filter. In the aforementioned article, the bride referred to herself as a “huge saver”, which just means she prepaid for years and years. It’s the same thing.

My fiancee was given some smart advice regarding the brutality involved in culling a guest list: break the costs down per head, then decide if that person is worth, let’s say, $150 of your own money. This will help separate the wheat from the chaff, but such mathematical valuing of your loved ones could cast a pall over the entire day as you see invisible dollar amounts hovering over the heads of your guests like an energy bar in a video game.

It seems people regard the money spent on weddings as being in a separate currency with a different exchange rate. Flowers are suddenly thousands of dollars, napkin rings are worth dropping half a week’s wages on, and shoes that will be completely covered by a wedding dress are worth the GDP of a small landlocked nation.

Related: Dating deal-breakers: The most common relationship red flags

Related: Why going to the movies is the worst first date idea ever

Related: What to do when your friend starts dating someone you hate

The entire industry is set up to bleed you of money, under the hard-to-argue premise that this is your special day. The amount of pressure put on the happy couple to spend up big is substantial. Cutting corners on your wedding day seems ominous somehow, like a dark distillation of how much you value the marriage itself. It is also an industry where there is considerable pressure to match the weddings of those around you. There is pressure to spend a truckload of money, then to downplay how much you actually spent. Seemingly throwaway decisions take on seismic proportions, as now you are planning a $50,000 event, and so everything has to go smoothly. Not smoothly, perfectly. See how the wind is blowing the tablecloth corners up so the bare wooden legs are now visible? That’s because you were too stingy to fork out $900 on the diamond-plated tablecloth weights.

Now the wedding, and by extension the marriage and your future-children’s job prospects, are irrevocably destroyed.

We won’t be burdening any of our parents for money to pay for our wedding, as it is no longer 1955 (despite what our bridal-twist dance may suggest), but many couples still expect the bride’s parents to fork out for the pleasure of watching some dude in an ill-fitting suit marry their daughter in a church that cost more to rent than their first house was to buy. I’ve known people whose parents took out a second mortgage on their house to facilitate a party for a marriage that lasted just over a year. They’d have been better off investing in ostrich farming, or Nokia ringtones.

Here’s an outrageous fee I’ve only just learned exists. How much do you expect to pay for a wedding cake? Regardless of how high you punted that number in your head just then, it’s actually a lot higher as, according to mywedding.com, a lot of venues “require a cake-cutting fee that ranges from $1-$7 per guest”. Keep in mind, this site is American, making that higher-end figure $9.60. You invite 200 guests and you’re looking at $1920 extra just for someone to divvy up the cake in those tiny, square, fun-sized portions. (Some restaurants do this too and call it “cakeage”, which would be cute if I wasn’t fuming at the concept.) This is on top of the cake cost, which starts at $650 for one of those three-tier types. You know, the one that the guy dives through in the November Rain clip. If I ever see a bride at a wedding glaring furiously at some little kid whining about how he doesn’t want his cake, I will know why.

Doltone House runs a venue hire and catering company in Sydney. They offer a number of reasonably priced wedding packages, one of which includes the hire of a mirrored wishing well and a crystal chandelier. There also seems to be an undue amount of importance placed on the table centrepieces; Doltone offers a consultancy service for this element alone. Not wishing to be outdone, Ava Event Styling offers up a Pinterest board featuring the 642 Best Wedding Centrepieces and all I see are different variations of flowers in kettles, all presented on white table-clothes that look like oversized doilies.

Because weddings seem to exist in this parallel universe that reflects in no way the actual value of items, services become a lot dearer, too.

I have played in bands over the years and worked as a music journalist, so I know how much musicians are paid in the real world. In weddingland, however, a band can charge $5000 for three 45-minute sets. Those are covers sets too, so you’re not paying a premium for the fact you hired You Am I or anything; these are people playing the same 40 songs you hear at any wedding — or any RSL club on a Thursday night for that matter. As Charles Dickens once wrote: “No wedding is so classy that it can’t be spoiled by an off-key cover of the Goo Goo Dolls.” Want a DJ instead? First of all, you know it’s just a guy playing songs off his iPhone, right? Secondly, that will cost you $3000. And he won’t even have MMMBop.

The Cost Of Love report found the main place people cut costs was on a videographer, with 58 per cent of people highlighting this as the area they most scrimped on. The main areas of scrimpage seem to be those that can be replicated with technology: photography, videos, invitations and entertainment were all in the top rung of areas where people cut costs; all of which can be crowdsourced from phone-toting guests, or done through the wonders of email.

Our wedding isn’t for another year or so, which means we have plenty of time to think about what’s important to us. Mainly, it’s people. We’ve already decided not to waste money on things that don’t mean anything to us, while making sure everything is as photogenic and pretty as possible. Luckily, beauty and taste don’t equal dollars. The most expensive weddings can often look garish and cheap, while a simple garden fare with tea-candles and a small group of people who cherish each other can look and feel a million dollars.

At the end of the day, no matter what type of wedding we land on, whether it rains, or hails, or gets shut down by the police because we forgot to put the permit in, we know we will be deliriously happy with the end result. We will arrive separately, and leave married. Which sounds like the perfect wedding.

Nathan Jolly is a Sydney-based writer who specialises in pop culture, music history, true crime and true romance. Follow him on Twitter @nathanjolly

While we’re on the topic, this is Meghan Markle’s daily ritual to combat wedding stress. Plus, a guide to Australia’s best wedding dining destinations.

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