A Teaspoon And An Open Mind: A Doctor Who Fan Fiction Archive
Tenth Doctor
Marriage Counseling by spastasmagoria [Reviews - 15] Printer
Author's Notes:
standard disclaimers apply. Thanks to Rosesbud for betaness.

Come to think of it, she wouldn’t have slapped him, or called him Sunshine. Well, unless he asked her to.

Marriage Counseling

Fifty-seven. Through various means, happenstance, alien-intervention, evil plottings, random musings and a bunch of things he really couldn’t control, the Doctor had been married fifty-seven times. Thirty-six of them to the same person.

It just kind of worked out that way, sometimes. You were on a planet where they’d kill you if you weren’t married–well, get married! It solves a bunch of problems!

Of course, Harry Sullivan hadn’t exactly seen it that way. And that one time with Jack–well, he still thought Jack had pushed the issue unnecessarily.

He’d married Peri twice. She’d whined both times. But they’d lived! Wasn’t that the important thing? Sarah Jane had understood the three times they’d needed to do it.

They’d almost been killed for real, once, when he’d patently refused to marry Ace. That would have just been weird. He was never sure if the thunk in the head he’d gotten from her later was because he refused to marry her, or because he’d gotten them into that situation in the first place.

He had a feeling it was sending a wrong message, somewhere, in marrying Martha twice to get out of various situations that were completely not his fault. But Martha was always getting some message out of something she shouldn’t. Like that genetic transfer. Sometimes a genetic transfer with a lot of tongue was just a genetic transfer with a lot of tongue.

Donna had almost let him be burned at the stake, because she wouldn’t just marry him and get it over with. Which was stupid–it wasn’t like it actually meant anything. It was just marriage. A religious or elected official said some words, you kissed each other, and got a certificate of your married-ness, and then you were off, doing whatever it is you wanted to be doing, without the threat of being shot on sight.

A formality–a technicality. And Donna wouldn’t just shut her big fat human mouth and do it.

He’d even told her that he and Rose had been married thirty-six times, a few of them just for fun. But that had seemed to make things worse. She wagged a finger at him and called him Sunshine, and let the alien guards haul him away.

While they were tying him up he wondered where he’d gone so horribly wrong. Humans got married all the time! If you divided his age (his real age–which he didn’t like thinking about) by the number of times he’d been married, he averaged twenty-one years of marriage each time! That was really good in Earth terms! That was practically being married FOREVER in celebrity years. And Donna was letting him get hauled away to the big pile of wood that was about to be set on fire, once he was at the center of it! All because he was really, really old and had been married more times than Elizabeth Taylor.

Fifty-seven wasn’t so great a number, was it? That was really only like… three or four marriages in Human Years.

And thirty-six had been with the same person! That was pretty good, wasn’t it? It spoke of a track record of fidelity! In fact, if Rose wasn’t locked off in a parallel universe, he’d still be getting married to her, and he wouldn’t even be in this predicament where he was asking Donna to marry him and getting slapped and called Sunshine.

Rose would have married him!

Donna didn’t even think to throw him his sonic screwdriver (which he had to catch between his teeth) until the wood planks were already on fire.

Rose would have gotten him out of the predicament earlier, if she’d have let him get into it at all. She wouldn’t have made him catch the sonic screwdriver between his teeth.

Come to think of it, she wouldn’t have slapped him, or called him Sunshine.

Well, unless he asked her to.

But that was an entirely separate issue!

And he was certainly not going to bring that up, after he’d rescued himself and they’d run back to the TARDIS. He just leaned against the console, catching his breath, hoping they wouldn’t ever have to discuss Emergency Marriage Protocol number two again.

There were plenty of things he didn’t want to talk about, like just how many male, female and neutral companions (seventeen!) he’d married in the last thousand years. Or the two times he and Rose had gotten married on a lark. Well, the first time wasn’t entirely a lark. They’d both accidentally eaten some magic mushrooms. But that wasn’t the point. He didn’t want to discuss larks, magic mushrooms, or playing Special Games in the TARDIS console room with a feather, a bit of string and… um… no clothes. Magic mushrooms! Their fault!

Donna would take it to mean something that it didn’t mean! Occasional bouts of Special Games, or rounds of Find the Underpants had absolutely nothing to do with marriage or…or…or anything for that matter.

Looking up at the ceiling, Donna leaned against the console and drew in deep breaths through her nose. She was going to yell at him in a moment. It was a given. She just needed enough oxygen to do it.

Which was why he needed to act serious right now, and not think about that particular section of the console that she was leaning against. Cos he probably had a slightly wistful look on his face right now–it was the one he got when he thought about certain people leaning against that particular part of the console in the midst of magic mushroom highs. It was the one that had made Jack roll his eyes, when he told the other man why.

As if Jack had never bent anyone over a piece of highly advanced time-travelling equipment and…well…

He’d really better stop looking at Donna and thinking about Rose bent over…


And then she was off and running. She was saying things about how he liked it, and his alien brain was damaged if he thought she was ever going to ever marry him, she didn’t care how desperate he was, or how close to death, or whatever.

OH yeah, and SUNSHINE could get that dreamy-eyed look off his face.

The Doctor straightened up and tried to look serious.

Donna was still glaring at him. “I hope you’re not still thinking about marrying me.” One hand went to her chest. “Or fantasizing about me! You bloody pervert alien!”

She looked him in the eye, like she was staring deep down into his soul, learning his darkest secrets. For just a second, her lips pursed, and before he could shirk away, she slapped him again.

That time definitely got him out of his thoughts. Pressing a hand to his cheeks, he made a face. “What was THAT for?”

“For marrying Rose thirty-six times, and never once meaning it!” Donna Noble stormed off.


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