FIC: come to me with remedies [5/6]

[luciazephyr]

Title: come to me with remedies [5/6]
Doctor Who EDA, Obversefic, Fitz/Doctor, Anji. NC-17. A year's time in a blue house in a tiny English town. The ups and downs of the lives of a not-so-perpetual slacker, a daydream believer, and a terribly sensible trader.

previous chapter

"Batten down the hatches, 'cause here comes the cold," Fitz sing-songed as he shut up the house, drawing curtains and pulling out blankets to throw over all the chairs and sofas.

"Quiet, we're working. Now here," Anji pointed to a spot on the screen, "see, it's cheaper for whatever reason to fly out of Manchester, so we'll do that."

"I wonder why it's cheaper out of Manchester," the Doctor mused, his chin on Anji's head as he watched her booking their tickets.

"Maybe because it's Manchester and no one wants to go there?" Fitz offered brightly.

"I like Manchester," the Doctor said defensively.

"Only because you like everything until it gives you a reason not to," Fitz said.

The Doctor considered this and nodded. No argument.

Fitz chuckled and went on, "Uh huh. Hey, Anji, do newlyweds get a discou-"

"No," she interrupted him.

The Doctor looked at her, then at Fitz. "Is it difficult to get married?"

"No," Fitz said instantly, meaning to tell him there was no way in hell that was happening. "I mean yes. Very difficult. Takes years at a time."

"Backpedal faster, Fitz."

"Shut up, Anji." He walked out of the room, cleaning out the coat closet to make room for the winter jackets. Funny how he always got stuck with the physical chores while the other two sat around doing their 'work'.

The Doctor waited for him to walk back through the room. "I don't see why you're so disagreeable to it. You ask Anji to marry you on a weekly basis."

"That's different." The Doctor kept looking at him, clearly wanting him to explain why. "Because... hey, the couple's dance. With two blokes, who leads?" Anji gave him a look over the top of the laptop that told him even she was disappointed in the lameness of that answer and expected better of him. It wasn't his fault he hadn't prepared a list of reasons why he and the Doctor shouldn't get married for events like this. One could only be so prepared.

"We could figure that out," the Doctor replied and got up. Fitz intercepted him before he could get to the record player, catching him and linking his arms tightly around his waist. Leaning back, he pulled both of them back onto the sofa. The Doctor struggled for a moment, making upset noises, but Fitz's hold was secure and he sighed, going slack against his chest. Then he seemed to realize how comfortable Fitz was to lay on and shifted around until he happily settled with his head on Fitz's shoulder, arms around his chest. "I don't see what the fuss is about."

"Fitz has commitment issues," Anji offered.

"I do not. Don't listen to her, Doc."

The Doctor lifted his head and fixed Fitz with a piercing look. Fitz got the feeling he wouldn't be getting any until he gave a satisfactory answer to the Doctor's question. Damn.

With a click of her mouse, Anji lay back against her chair and announced, "We're booked. Two weeks from tomorrow, we have a flight to Italy out of Manchester. Three o'clock."




It took another week for Fitz to panic.

"Why didn't you stop me? You're supposed to be the sensible one in this madhouse and you can't even do your job properly." Fitz paced around Anji's bed as she ran a few searches for a good hotel in Venice. We are going to Venice, Fitz remembered miserably and moaned again. "Why am I such an idiot?"

"I have no clue. All signs point to you being smarter than you look, what with the way you go through three books a week and knock out crosswords in ten minutes. And yet here we are. You're an idiot." She seemed gleeful about being able to say it without repercussions. Then she coughed and said, "What have I said about you lighting up in my room?"

"I need this or I'm gonna have a full-blown panic attack, Anj," he replied, the words accompanied with a cloud of smoke. He didn't mention the fact this was his fifth cigarette in the last two hours and the only reason he was in her room was because the Doctor got cross about him smoking in the kitchen when he was trying to make dinner. "Have we already paid for everything? Is this, uh, set in stone, as it were?"

"Yep. Just getting the hotel rooms now and then we are set for the trip. You aren't going to want a two-bed, right?"

"I... I dunno. Where'll you sleep?"

"Different room. I am not sharing with you and the Doctor on your honeymoon."

"Anji, love, be a dear and stop saying shit like that." He moaned some more. "Oh, I've got to sit down." He flumped down beside her on the bed, an arm thrown over his eyes.

She tutted angrily and grabbed his cigarette, tossing it into an empty coffee mug. "If you get ash on my bed..."

"Your overwhelming concern for the fact I'm having a good solid freak-out over here is a comfort, lemme tell you."

She moved her laptop and held it up in Fitz's field of vision. "Look. A nice big room, a great view, and it has a stocked minibar."

Fitz reluctantly looked at the blown up image on the screen. It was nice. "I do like minibars."

"I knew that would seal it. I'll book us here then?" When Fitz slowly nodded, she patted his knee and went back to her noisy clicking and typing. "You need to relax. I mean, I thought this was the worst idea in the world when the Doctor first mentioned it, but now I think it could be fun. I've never been somewhere like Venice."

"Yeah... Me neither." Fitz rubbed his face tiredly. "I need to go buy a suitcase, I guess."

Anji stared at him. "God, Fitz. I'd ask how you made it this far without one, but you might actually answer."

Fitz waved a hand dismissively. "Fitz Kreiner, charmed life, you know the drill."




Days were slipping away from him, water pouring from his fingers as he tried to grip on things. He took off a week of work, bought a suitcase, got the house ready for winter, and started obsessively checking the weather forecast for the day they were flying out. It was Anji who eventually took him out and got him drinking. He knew she disapproved of his vices, so he must have been a real pain to live with if she wanted him a little drunk. He certainly wasn't complaining either; she paid for his drinks.

He wasn't inebriated enough to forget his stress and went to bed tense, if exhausted and already sliding towards sleep. He barely managed to kicked off his shoes before laying bonelessly on the bed, mostly dressed.

He heard the Doctor murmur something, but Fitz's mind was out to lunch and all he got from it was the tone, affectionate but exasperated. It was followed by the Doctor's hands, rolling him over onto his back before unbuttoning his shirt. Fitz let him, making no move to help. His jeans went loose around his hips and Fitz pushed himself up enough so those could be pulled off. His only concession to help the Doctor done, he flopped back down, sighing.

Once his shirt was off, a cool finger traced the angles of Fitz's skinny torso. Having none of that, Fitz rolled over onto his stomach again. His eyes remained carefully shut because he was too tired to shag the Doctor tonight and no amount of big blue eyed pleading was going to change his mind. The Doctor just laughed and ran his hands soothingly along Fitz's skin. "All right, then," he said mildly.

There was a rustling sound all around him and Fitz let one eye slit open enough to look around. There was nothing to see, just pure darkness. The drapes around the four-poster had been pulled and they blocked out what little light came through the moonless night. It was pitch black. His only comfort was that he could feel the Doctor nearby, touch still drifting over Fitz's back, lulling him further. He shut his eyes again, seeing no point to looking around if he couldn't see anything, just enjoying the attention as he sank deeper into repose.

It could have been five minutes or an hour later when Fitz felt the Doctor kiss his shoulder. He didn't ask for anything in return, dragging his lips along the warm skin of Fitz's shoulder and neck. Fitz thought about saying something, even making an appreciative hum to let the Doctor know he wasn't asleep and that felt really nice, thanks. Something stopped him, the blanket of darkness muting him. He could hardly take more than a slow deep breath, feeling like he was being pressed into the mattress by nothing, held still and silent. Fitz must have been almost delusional with weariness, feeling like the night had hands pinning him down where he lay.

The Doctor didn't seem to mind, lavishing attention into Fitz's skin, his lips wet and hands so, so soft. He pressed his palms to Fitz's sides, dragging up and down as his mouth kissed down the long relaxed line of his spine. He reached the base, stopping just above Fitz's boxers. His tongue pressed flat against the bumps of his vertebrae and ran all the way back up to Fitz's shoulder blades. Just like that, Fitz felt pure hot want flooding his system, fanning through his body, outward from the points where the Doctor touched him.

He couldn't move though. His breath caught in his chest for the span of a heartbeat, but otherwise nothing. He needed to reach out and touch and dispense some of that intense heat settling in his veins. It was too much, agonzing but exquisite, how it built up in him until he felt dizzy from it. He needed to move.

The Doctor's hands closed over his wrists then and he lay his body against Fitz's back, and the idea of movement became much less urgent. He was heavy, but not so much FItz couldn't breathe, and really breathing was all he needed right now. The Doctor kissed his ear and neck, lazily switching between flicks of his tongue and brushes of his lips, blending the sensations together until Fitz's neck became oversensitive. "Let me know if you mind," he murmured before going on. Something as simple as the graze of his teeth made Fitz's body tense all at once, muscles bunching for a second's time before he relaxed again.

He noticed that the Doctor was still speaking, and again not in English. He mumbled into Fitz's body as he moved along it, barely audible and beyond Fitz's understanding. He could guess at the basic meaning though, the sort of words you only said in this kind of impenetrable darkness. He was inordinately grateful to the Doctor for his small mercies; having to hear and understand what he was saying in his current state, Fitz had no idea how he could. It was enough he could hear the sound of amore in most of what was being said, that base sound being twisted and fashioned into a plethora of declarations.

A few words pierced through the dreamlike trance Fitz was under. "Stay like this," the Doctor requested or ordered before he slipped away, off of Fitz. Fitz didn't even nod his acceptance, just obeyed, as if he were capable of anything else. He felt utterly alone in the dark for a moment as he waited. He heard sound, didn't bother trying to place it, and then the last of his clothes were being taken off. The Doctor's tentative hands on his now-bare hips got a gasp from Fitz. He knew where this was going and it wasn't the sort of thing he did, no matter how drunk he got, but this was more than alcohol. He was pliable in every sense of the word and the Doctor was taking advantage of that, kneeling between his legs and in the process nudging them further apart. Fitz's breath was shallow now, nearly loud enough to drown out the only other sounds in the room: his pulse drumming in his head and skin rubbing together as the Doctor kept up his touches.

Slick fingers pushed into him, his body in such a state they slid in with no resistance. Fitz panted against the pillow, his entire being focused on the singular sensations of the Doctor's hand curled around his hip and his fingers leisurely moving around inside him. A little further and Fitz's legs weakly twitched as a slow burn of pleasure started. He wanted to say there, right there or lean back into the touch or anything really, but he was still frozen, laid out on offer to the Doctor to do with as he wished.

Too soon, Fitz groaned with regret as the Doctor's fingers withdrew. Both his hands held Fitz down, slick on his hips. There was only the sound of Fitz panting for air for a long minute before the Doctor shifted and pushed inside in one long, ceaseless motion.

It was very possible he didn't exist but for where the Doctor was pressing against him. Fitz was completely languid and everything felt like it started and ended where pleasure was being coaxed out of him. He was fine with that, okay with how all the Doctor's weight was on Fitz's lower back as he was held still and how, as slow and measured as the pace was, the Doctor's thrusts into him were fluid and claiming, rocking Fitz forward and back in a steady rhythm that was driving him mad. He was hard, more turned on than he'd ever been in his life, and left completely up to the Doctor's whims.

Fitz was utterly silent as he came, caught just as he took a sharp breath in. It stayed stuck there as his back arched, fingers tightening in the sheets, suspending him like that as he rode it out, all while the Doctor didn't give him any rest. If anything, his thrusts got rougher as he chased his own climax, reaching it just as Fitz went slack against the bed again.

"Ugh. Holy fuck," Fitz said, or tried to. He wasn't enunciating very well at that point. "I'm going to tell you no more often."

"Mm, I should have avoided the positive reinforcement perhaps," the Doctor said casually.

"If I try to sleep now, you're not going to shag my brains out again, are you? 'Cause I need to sleep."

The Doctor laughed and kissed his shoulder tenderly. "Bouna notte, Fitz."




There were a lot of deeply satisfying nights in bed before Venice. Fitz became somewhat dependent on them as days ticked away. He couldn't drink solidly through the time his thoughts started to repetitively chant oh god we're going to Venice fucking Venice everything is going to go wrong oh god, and Fitz couldn't up his cigarette usage anymore than he already had without having a coughing fit. So the Doctor gracefully took to the task of getting Fitz to chill out. Fitz was starting to get why some guys really liked the whole bottoming thing. He was always really fucking mellow afterward. Mellow or borderline comatose.

Two days before Venice, Anji and the Doctor were getting ready to go out shopping for something. Anji made the mistake of asking Fitz what he was so happy about. Fitz told her.

Her face turned cherry red. "Okay. You could have just as easily said that without the.... hand gestures."

"I'm just saying. I feel bad for you girls, lacking the--"

"Oh, god, stop talking."

"I mean, you've got some good bits, like the--"

"DOCTOR! We're leaving right now!" She grabbed her purse and marched out the door while Fitz laughed raucously at her back.

"Bisexuality is awesome," Fitz gushed as the Doctor appeared, winding a scarf around his neck to get ready for the cold.

"I'll have to take your word for it, Fitz. We'll be back later. Be good!"

"Nah, not my style." He snagged one trailed end of the scarf and pulled the Doctor in for a lazy but utterly obscene kiss that Anji would have balked at if she hadn't already made her escape. Letting go and reclining across the sofa again, Fitz said, "Bring me something nice back."

"Oh, well, that is the idea," the Doctor said vaguely before scampering off after Anji.



The next day, they were packing, mindful of the forecast Anji had printed off and stuck to the fridge with a magnet. She was finished early, being sensible and calm and all those other things, so Fitz roped her into helping him pick out things and get them all stuffed into his suitcase.

"You had to buy the smallest suitcase the store had, didn't you?" Anji gritted out as she put all her weight on the top of the bag, holding it down as Fitz tried to zip it shut.

"Well, I've never bought anything like this before, how was I supposed to know?"

"I offered to go with you."

"I would have ended up buying something stupidly expensive that I'd never really need."

"Instead you got something that won't fit your things!"

"If a job's worth doing, it's worth me screwing it up," he said self-deprecatingly. He sighed with relief as the zip shut and he was able to snap the little padlock onto it. "There!" He sighed with relief.

"Thank goodness that's over with." Anji patted the bag gently, as if afraid doing so too hard would result in the thing bursting apart on her.

"Oh, shit," Fitz picked The Age of Reason up from his dresser and showed it to Anji. "I forgot to put my book in."

Anji grabbed it from him. "I'll keep it in my bag. Do not open that thing again." She walked out of his room quickly. He imagined she wanted to avoid any more favors he'd ask of her.

"Thank you, Anji," he called at her back. She froze and looked back at him, frowning. He just smiled back and waited for her to stop thinking he was buttering her up for something.

Slowly, she grinned back. "You're welcome. I'm going to go make sure the Doctor's ready too. Why don't you start tea for us?" She jogged up the stairs, looking back at him a few times.

Weird, he thought idly and meandered downstairs.



They all woke up at some ungodly hour of the morning. Well, the Doctor and Anji did. Fitz tried to go back to sleep, Venice be damned, until he smelled breakfast downstairs and tumbled out of the four-poster and wobbled downstairs. There was bacon, and he was not strong enough to resist its siren call.

The Doctor and Anji were talking intently to each other in hushed voices when he came in and immediately pretended like they hadn't been when he slumped down on the table. Weird, Fitz thought again, looking between them curiously. Anji was on her laptop, probably doing final checks on everything because she was Anji and Anji made sure things never went too crazy for them. The Doctor was fixing up thermoses of hot tea and bacon sandwiches for the trip. He was also bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, brimming with excitement.

Fitz snorted. "I know you're psyched for this, Doc, but calm down before you break something."

The Doctor and Anji simultaneously looked at him in surprise. The Doctor cleared his throat and said, "I'm sorry?"

"Uh. I mean, I'm ready for Venice and everything too, but you've got to chill out a bit."

"Oh, Venice! Venezia, yes, I am... terribly excited." He nodded adamantly and went back to watching the bacon, humming cheerfully.

"What am I missing here?" Fitz asked Anji quietly. She shrugged and hid behind the laptop screen. Fitz was about to demand answers when the Doctor gave him his thermos. Darjeeling. Fitz would never claim to be above bribery.



Manchester Airport had no right to be as busy as it was when they arrived. It wasn't a holiday, it wasn't even a weekend, so where were all the people going? Fitz put on his best game face, aided by the support of his very best hat-- a pinstriped fedora with a silver silk ribbon that was just loose enough around his head to sit at the perfect jaunty angle he needed-- and grabbed the Doctor's hand like he'd be swept away in the crowds if he wasn't careful. He took a deep breath.

And he let Anji lead the way to their terminal. Unlike Fitz, when Anji looked like she knew what she was doing, chances are she did. He just faked it, albeit with years of experience in faking it on his side.

The Doctor smiled reassuringly at him, rubbing his thumb up and down the back of Fitz's hand, radiating serenity.



"They gave me the window seat? I don't want the window seat."

"Whyever not? You'll get the best view."

"I'll also be the first to die if the plane depressurizes or decompresses!"

"Oh, that's an urban legend."

"Anji, the last time you said that, you were wrong."

"And so were you, if you recall. Now sit down, you're holding up the.... oh, fine, I'll take window. Fitz, sit in the middle. Doctor, take the aisle so you can stop Fitz from making a break for it."



It was only two and a half hours before their transfer in Frankfurt and Fitz already was making a tower of the little shot bottles the flight attendants had given him.

"Really, my dear?" The Doctor asked, frowning at him sadly.

"I don't like planes."

"You've never been on one before," Anji pointed out.

"I'm on one now. Don't like it. Ground feels different. Not stable."

Kindly, the Doctor offered, "Try crossing your legs. That way they won't be on the floor."

Fitz did so and looked around. "Huh. What do you know." He winced. "My ears just popped."

Anji rolled her eyes and buried her nose in the newspaper.



From Frankfurt to Venice, Fitz took the window seat and stared out of it most of the flight.

"This is so weird. People do this all the time?"

"I believe so. Some do, anyway," the Doctor said, also looking out as he ate a biscuit. He had several packs of the things, given to him by one of the younger flight attendants who had apparently thought the Doctor was the sweetest thing ever and could have anything he liked off the cart. Fitz wanted to whinge about how a short man in a velvet, deeply anachronistic coat could outdo Fitz and his very fine hat, but the Doctor was sharing his swag, so he couldn't complain too much.

"But you can feel yourself moving. It's weird."

"Isn't that like being in a car?"

"No, totally different." He leaned his head on the glass, watching the clouds. "I wish I could just shut my eyes and be there when I open them. No turbulence or no smoking signs or anything. Even if I lose the travel time still. Just so I don't have to sit like this through it, you know?"

"That's... a very strange thing to wish. I think. I'm not a good judge of these things."

"That's okay." Fitz smiled at the Doctor's reflection in the glass. "I'm used to strange."



In the end, Fitz was surprised the Doctor held it together so long.

"Venezia!" He dropped his bag right outside the airport and dashed forward into the sunshine, coat flying up behind him. "Oh, it's beautiful! You can smell the water in the air! And it's sunny, oh that's just the cherry on top, isn't it?" He twirled in place and caught the hand of a Venetian woman walking by, kissing it extravagantly. She blinked at him and said something in luscious Italian, which the Doctor laughed at and nodded to. He gave her a kiss on each cheek before letting her go.

"Turista..." She walked off, face pink.

Anji shoved her bag into Fitz's arms and took off after him. "Doctor! You can't just go up and kiss people!" She grabbed his arm, pulling him back before he could wander further off.

"But I do that all the time and as I understand it certain parts of Europe are more open to affection than England." As though to prove his point, he gave her the same double kiss.

"Yes, but we're used to that. Just..." She hooked her arm in his and held his hand tightly. "Calm down. At least until we can drop off our luggage at the hotel."

"Speaking of," Fitz said loudly, "I've got it. All of it. Every bag. Right here."

"Oh, I'm sorry!" The Doctor returned to his side and took his suitcase from him. "I'm so sorry, you know how I get carried away, Fitz."

Anji took her bag back as well. "He does. Now, I've got the map printouts here. We're going--"

"This way," the Doctor said and started off.

"No, wait, Doctor..." she looked at the papers in her hands. "Oh, actually he's right. How does he do that?"

Fitz threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, this is going to go great!" And despite himself, he wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic or not.



Bags dropped off, room keys collected, the Doctor lead them back into the city, holding both his companions' hands as he set off at a brisk pace. "You said you've never left the country," Anji said once she'd fallen into step beside him.

"I haven't. But I know this city. I can feel it. We want to start over here."

If Fitz hadn't watched the Doctor take his medication that morning, he'd think this was the start of a break. It was the sort of thing he'd been worried about since he agreed to this trip. He gripped the Doctor's hand that much tighter. If the Doctor ran off, at least he'd be dragged along. "Where are we going though?"

"The place everyone goes when they visit Venice!"

"Fine, don't tell me." Fitz shook his head.

"Oh, you take the suspense out of everything. I was taking us to..." He stopped all of a sudden, jerking the other two backward. "No, wait. We can't go there yet. Oh, this way!" He took a sharp turn and dragged them along another road. Anji nearly stumbled in her heels, laughing as she bumped into the Doctor.

"Are you going to be like this the whole trip?"

"I don't know! I've never felt so happy! Well..." He looked sideways at Fitz, who immediately colored at the implication.

"Uh..."

"Anyway!" He pointed with the hand holding onto Anji. "Let's begin over there."



They stood upon the Rialto Bridge, looking upon the water, watching the gondoliers float by beneath them.

"We have to get on one of those," Anji said, staring longingly at one as it passed.

"Later," the Doctor promised, leaning his arms on the stone of the balustrade. "We have many more sights to see before indulging in a gondola trip. Fitz, put that away."

Fitz pouted and put his lighter away, but left the cigarette in his mouth. "Sorry."

"Now, this bridge," he patted it affectionately, "is the true soul of this city. It is one of the busiest streets over one of the larger waterways. The shops.... come here, we need to be on the main bridge." He lead them into the center of the bridge, which was filled with shops tucked into the walls. They walked up the steps and with each one, there was a new booth lit up like gold against the cool stone arches. "The bridge was designed by Antonio da Ponte, whose name actually means 'Antonio of the Bridge,' I believe. It's been here for hundreds of years and the original wood structures still help hold it up. Isn't that lovely?"

"Yeah, sure is. That a sweets shop?" Fitz pointed off to the left.

The Doctor turned and looked. His smile grew. "Yes, it is. I suppose you'd like something before we get this going?"

"This is Fitz we're talking about." Anji said. "Of course he does."



They headed along the city streets, the Doctor expounding upon each landmark they passed. Famous palazzos, the Bridge of Signs before they were found there without a guide and were sent away, standing upon a dock staring at the vessels, yahcts and cruises ships and little fishing boats, across the water. The Doctor maintained a running commentary on everything, reading aloud the Italian plaques and translating them, and pointing out where Leonardo da Vinci probably worked.

Fitz had no idea how he knew half the stuff he did or how he instinctively knew where to go. Too often they left the crowded streets and weaved their way through canyon-like alleys to reach their next destination faster. Anyone who watched him would assume he'd done this all his life, moving through a foreign town with the same leisurely stride as a native resident. It was like the city was speaking to him, leading him along just as he lead them.

As the evening wore on, Fitz's gaze wandered around the tall buildings as the lights came on, shining in the dimming light. He looked behind them and saw some other tourists going the same way they were. He thought nothing of it and jogged to rejoin the others as the Doctor showed Anji a particularly opulent fountain.

But when the Doctor went on about the Ghetto Nuovo and its history, Fitz found the same clutch of people still behind them. Slipping away, he walked towards them, stride long and determined. He tugged the brim of his fedora down and tried on a low growl as he said, "Can I help you lot?"

He wasn't sure if it was his own intimidating demeanor or the natural nervousness that came from being in a strange city far from home, but the tourists took a collective step away from him. One woman replied in an American accent Fitz couldn't name, "I'm sorry?"

Fitz grinned like a knife, not at all friendly. "You have been following up around for the last hour and I'm just giving you a word of caution." He leaned in. "I will not let you ruin our trip, so if you want to prey on someone, I suggest you pick someone else. I will not hesitate to kick your arse if you so much as look at those two wrong," he went on, gesturing vaguely to the Doctor and Anji.

The group exchanged a few baffled looks. The American, who took up the task of spokeswoman for them, asked, "Is this part of the tour?"

His dangerous smile slipped. "What?"

"The tour."

"What tour?"

"The tour we're on?"

Fitz opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking at the Doctor, then back at the tourists. "Not to be repetitive, but what?"

The woman pointed to the Doctor, who was just noticing Fitz's disappearance and looking around worriedly while Anji held his hand, doing much the same. "I don't know, the tour that man is leading. There didn't seem to be a fee and it was very interesting. How late will it be going on?"

Fitz stared at her, waiting for the punchline to her joke. When one didn't come he turned around and walked away, back to the Doctor, who immediately caught his sleeve, clearly glad to have him within reach again. "Trouble, Fitz?"

"No. Can we wrap this up though? I think we should get back to our hotel." There were no objections and the trio started the journey back.

Halfway to the hotel, Fitz turned around and shouted, "He's not a bloody tour guide! Piss off!"

"What was that all about?" Anji asked, watching the group that had been following them disperse.

"Ask me in about an hour, Anj. By then it'll be a funny story."



It did turn out to be a funny story over dinner, partly thanks to Fitz's embellishments. Anji thought his imitation of the Yank's accent hilarious, probably because she'd actually been to America and was the only one at the table who could call him out for it. The Doctor was sad Fitz had chased the people away. "I didn't even notice them. It was no bother to act as their guide, I didn't mind."

"I minded," Fitz said shortly. He tried not to think about how dark his thoughts turned when he spotted them, assuming they were going to cause some trouble. Not for the Doctor. Especially not for their short time in Venice.

He was rather wrapped up in his self-appointed mission of keeping the Doctor safe during their stay. The entire day was more for Anji and him than for Fitz. The two were perfect sightseers and if one wasn't pointing out the next interesting bit of architecture just down the street, the other was taking up the task. Fitz just followed along and kept his eyes peeled for any problems. It wasn't until they were settled in their hotel room that Fitz got the chance to take in how really stunning Venice was, standing on the tiny balcony and watching the boats go by, the lights of the buildings over the canal catching in the waves. All the arches and towering buildings made the city feel tall and graceful. He'd been right to write her as a lady in his song.

The Doctor came in, carrying a small bag filled with toothbrushes and other essentials that had been stuffed in Anji's suitcase for the flight. "Anji says goodnight, and if you're too noisy, she won't hesitate to shove you into the Grand Canal tomorrow."

"It's always my fault," Fitz observed, hesitantly walking back into the room and shutting the balcony door. "She'd never shove you into the Canal."

The Doctor simply smiled and shrugged, evidently agreeing. "Are you enjoying yourself so far, Fitz?"

"Not as much as you, I bet," Fitz hedged. "You're pretty good at this traveling thing."

"Do you think so?" He started to strip, getting ready for bed after the long day. "It is very... invigorating. It's all so new and yet so familiar. Like I've been doing this forever." His smile turned sheepish. "Perhaps I've gotten some practice in my dreams. About time they're good for something, I suppose."

"Gonna be impossible to get you back on that plane," Fitz said through a yawn. Taking a cue from the Doctor, he sat down and started to get ready for bed, pulling off his shirt before plucking at the laces of his shoes.

"Oh, no, not really." The Doctor stood before Fitz and ran his nails through the messy, dark hair, a habit Fitz greatly approved of. Fitz leaned into his hands, savoring the feeling. "Venezia is wonderful, but I imagine you'd prefer a place where you speak the local language."

"And you follow me? That seems backwards."

"Maybe we follow each other."

"Going to end up going in circles that way."

"So negative, my dear."

"Yeah. Sorry." Fitz kissed the flat plane of his stomach. "Very sorry." He nipped at the cool skin. "Extremely very sorry." He tugged the Doctor closer and continued his escalating ministrations,

"That's... not proper grammar. And you're trying to distract me from the fact you're not enjoying yourself."

"I am enjoying myself right now," Fitz mumbled.

"That's not what I meant. I meant- oh, stop that, that's not fair, I'm trying to talk to you." He put his hands on Fitz's shoulders like he was preparing to push him away, but didn't get around to it, just holding on. Fitz smiled roguishly and watched him bite his lip, the effort to remain restrained under the onslaught of Fitz's mouth making him tense up. It took little further coaxing to get him to climb onto the bed with Fitz and from there the conversation was swiftly forgotten.

next chapter