luciazephyr | FIC: come to me with remedies [6/6]

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Title: come to me with remedies [6/6]
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

The next morning they returned to the Rialto Bridge under Anji's insistence. She said she needed to visit all the shops there they had skipped. Fitz had complained the entire way there about retracing their steps when there was so much else they could see, but the Doctor sided with Anji, wanting to spend the small bit of money he'd put aside for frivolous purchases. All of Fitz's money had gone to covering his fare, though he didn't dare admit it because the Doctor would insist on giving him some and he'd die of embarrassment.

Anji vanished into the shops as Fitz and the Doctor waited for her. They managed to stay put for all of thirty seconds before the Doctor dragged Fitz off to a nearby gelato stand.

"Due coni, due gusti... What do you want, Fitz?" Fitz gave him a blank look. "Oh, why not... Fragola e limone. Grazie, grazie." A cone with huge scoops of pink and yellow gelato was handed off to Fitz. "E... e... cioccolato e nocciola? Grazie." He paid the man and came away with his own, much darker than Fitz's treat. "Feel better now?"

Fitz tried some of his gelato. Strawberry and lemon, almost painfully sweet, but fresh as any fruit he might have had. "You act like I'm a sugar addict or something."

"Admittance is the first step to recovery, Fitz."

Fitz childishly stuck out his tongue at him, mostly because he wasn't sure he wasn't a little addicted to sweets. The Doctor responded by tapping his gelato against Fitz's tongue. "Whoa, what'd you get?"

"Hazelnut and chocolate. It's bit rich, I must admit..."

"Here, trade me," Fitz passed his off to the Doctor, who looked much more pleased with the lighter fruity taste. Fitz was just as happy to scarf down the other. They wandered back to the bridge, hand and hand because the Doctor didn't see any issue with being thousands of miles from home, indulging in some PDAs.

Anji looked upset when she found them, carrying a few bags in her arms and wearing a new jacket. "I completely blew my budget. Get me out of here."

"Ooh, in a moment, Anji, I think I see something I'd like." The Doctor set off into one of the stores as Anji watched him helplesly.

"No, Doctor! They're too good! You'll never make it out with your money!" She looked at all the bags she'd collected sadly.

"Nice jacket," Fitz complimented.

"Shut up, it cost way too much. Why did I buy it?"

"It... makes you look nice?"

"Oh, they are going to eat the Doctor alive. He's too kind to tell the salespeople no. Here," she set her bags down at Fitz's feet, "watch these. And take this," she pushed her wallet into his free hand. "I'm going in."

Fitz hummed the Mission Impossible theme at her as she strode off after the Doctor.

With a newly purchased hat on Fitz's head and his own on the Doctor's, they dropped Anji's purchases off at the hotel and set off into the city again. Most of the sights they had hit the previous day, but there was one more the Doctor seemed keen on.

One moment they were walking through cramped, claustrophobic streets and the next they stepped into the open air of the Piazza San Marco. A massive courtyard stretched before them with the Basillica di San Marco shining before them in the afternoon sun, its Byzantine domes and spires watching over the square as many birds and a few of their fellow off-season tourists milled around the ornate grounds. The salt-smell of the nearby sea mixed with the inviting aromas of the cafes whenever the breeze blew.

"Napolean called it the finest drawing room on the Continent. It does feel both enclosed yet free, doesn't it?"

"It's... well it certainly..."

Fitz smiled at Anji and suggested, "Better than Boston?"

"Of course!" She laughed. "It's beautiful. I see why you saved it for later, Doctor."

"That and I wanted to be sure it wouldn't be crowded. I've always wanted to do this." The Doctor took both their hands and urged them along at a brisk jog that developed gradually into a full run through the Piazza. With Fitz's long legs and Anji's more sensible shoes, they kept up apace. Together, they sent the pigeons scattering in a great, blinding flurry of feathers and cooing. It was disorienting, so much motion being lead by a gleefully, barely in control pilot, but his laughter was infectious and by the time they reached the steps of the Basillica, all three were winded and giggling faintly.

Anji collapsed onto the stairs, leaning on one of the archways as she caught her breath. "You're mad."

The Doctor gasped and laughed, sitting down next to her and looking even more exhausted than she was. "You're right. I should have let this coat at the hotel if I planned on running. Much too stifling." He brushed his hair out of his eyes and after a moment of rustling in his pockets produced a plain black scrunchie and tied his hair back. That done, he rested his head on Anji's shoulder. "Now... we'll grab a light lunch, I think, then have a look around. We already saw the Bridge of Sighs, but over there," he pointed south, "is the Doge's Palace. We have the Basillia di San Marco right here, there's a museum nearby, and we should get a look at the Golden Staircase. Where shall we start?"

A well-spent afternoon seeing all the Piazza had to offer was only left when the sun began to set and the Doctor noted the vaporetto would be closing down for the night soon and if they didn't want to walk all the way back to their hotel, they needed to catch one right away.

"Not quite a gondola," Anji said, sitting on one of the seats in the back as the boat pulled away.

"I'll find you one, I promise," the Doctor said reassuringly, patting her hand.

Anji nodded and looked out at the water's wake as they cut through it. "Is this like the Thames and how you're not supposed to touch the water?"

"Hm." He leaned over her to peer at the Canal critically. "Best not to test it. Never know what sort of monster could lurk in the depths."

Fitz snorted and cracked the spine of his Sartre, which he'd thought to bring with him this time. He settled back on the seat, one arm laid across the top so his fingers touched the Doctor's shoulder, and picked up where he'd left off.

The vaporetto wasn't very crowded and plenty of seats were open, so when someone sat down on Fitz's other side, he drew his attention from the book. He'd been joined by a very pretty woman with golden brown skin and keen eyes that matched her curly dark hair. And she was definitely looking right at him.

"Italiano?"

"Uh... no, English."

"Oh, shame, I've been wanting to practice mine on someone," she said coolly, smiling at him. "Thought I could get in a debate about existentialism in Italian. Would be fun."

Fitz grinned back and shut his book, running a hand over the cover. "I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"Emilie."

"Hm?"

"My name." She held out a hand, delicate and adorned with a few eclectic rings.

"Oh, right." Fitz took her hand and instead of shaking, kissed her knuckles lightly. "Fitzgerald."

"But you go by Fitz or Gerald right?" She winked. "You have that look. A groovy laid back dude," she drawled, tapping the brim of his hat with a finger.

"It's Fitz, if you please."

"Knew it. Gerald's way too posh for you."

He leaned in and put on a hurt face. "You don't think I'm posh?"

"I hate posh blokes."

"Then I'm definitely not posh." She tossed her head back and laughed, a deep earthy sound. A bit of the sunset peeked through the buildings and caught her hair, making it burn in the light.

"How long you in Venice for, Fitz?"

"Just another day."

"Oh, that's a shame. You live anywhere near Leeds?"

"Not even remotely, why?"

"Going to school there. Would've charmed your number off you if there were a chance. Oh well." She patted his cheek and got up. "Nice talking to you, Fitz. Enjoy your Sartre."

He tipped his hat at her. "Ta, Emilie." He watched her go with an appreciative gaze and slouched back in his chair. Twenty-nine and I've still got it.

The Doctor immediately vanished into Anji's room after they got back to the hotel. The two were practically inseparable all day, thick as thieves throughout all the sightseeing. Fitz felt a little out of the loop, but it was his own fault for being perpetually worried about things going wrong. It was only now he could stretch out on the bed with his book and stop keeping an eye out for danger.

It was strange to admit that Anji Kapoor, businesswoman with heeled shoes and a typist's fingers, was a better adventurer than he was. Under her reserved exterior was a bird who wanted to go and do and see everything. That, Fitz assumed, was why the Doctor was so taken with her lately and why Fitz was laying alone on their bed, Age of Reason in one hand, the other wrapped around a bottle of Menabrea.

He drank slowly, in no hurry and not looking to get tipsy. He was only just started his second bottle when the Doctor came in, shoulders drawn with a hand pressed deep into his pocket. He didn't look upset exactly, but there was a thick air of contemplation to him. Fitz watched him hang up his coat and divest himself of some of his clothes, loathe to break the Doctor's concentration. Concentration might've been the wrong word; visually losing his train of thought, the Doctor went to the window and stared out at the Grand Canal.

Fitz could see his mind drifting further away, so he called out, "You and Anj are close lately. Do I have competition?"

The Doctor stiffened, like he hadn't realized Fitz was plainly laying across the bed like a contented cat. "Anji and I...? I don't mean to leave you out, Fitz. We just have... things to speak about."

"Hey, I was kidding." Fitz got up and joined the Doctor at the window, looking out too. "I wonder what you'd be like when you're flirting..."

"I... flirt," the Doctor said slowly, like he was unused to the word in his mouth. "You don't often notice, though."

"I do sometimes. Just takes me off-guard, you know? And I meant with other people."

"Like you do?" His voice was very soft.

Fitz remembered Emilie suddenly, and even more clearly remembered the stern look Anji gave him as they left the vaporetto, which baffled Fitz. Until now, anyway. "I don't..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean, I flirt, but I don't pull, you know? No, no you don't. Erm." He sipped a bit of his beer, aware the Doctor was watching him with a carefully blank face. "It's just fun. If Emilie tried to give me her number, I'd have told her I was taken."

"You do look though," the Doctor noted.

"Yeah, well, I look at everyone. I'm shameless like that. But seriously, Doctor, it'd take a lot for me to even think about someone else like that."

"Is that so?" He finally smiled a little. "Not an impossibility though?"

Fitz chuckled. "Pretty close to one. Maybe if I saw a girl suck a whole grapefruit through a straw, I'd have to think about it."

The Doctor blinked and did the sort of headtilt thing that got stray puppies guaranteed homes, painfully cute. "What do you mean?"

Fitz colored. "You know... suction."

The Doctor stared at him, head still tilted at that silly, curious angle. Oh, hey, Fitz was reminded, virgin. Well, not really, I took care of that, but still.

Still. Fitz took a long drag of his drink. Venetian beer. He was out of the country for the first time. He was standing in a city he'd written a song about, eating foods whose names he couldn't pronounce, walking through ornate and gorgeous places, slowly getting used to the way he could always smell water in the air around him. It was a place for new things, not the same old routine of lazing about and reading, even if the book was a good one.

He lowered the bottle, making a faint pop sound as his lips left the rim, and set it down on a table with obvious purpose. "You still trust me explicitly?" The Doctor nodded eagerly, unsure of where this was going but willing to follow Fitz there anyway. Fitz took him by the arm and dragged him over to the plush armchair next to the table, pushing him a little roughly down into it. "Good." He went back to the bed, grabbing one of the pillows off it and tossed it on the floor by the Doctor's feet.

"What're you doing?" The Doctor looked down at the pillow, brow furrowed, then watched Fitz kneel on it.

"Demonstrating." He hooked his fingers in the Doctor's belt and pulled him closer to the edge of the cushion. There wasn't any resistance, but he did continue to blink in a sort of puzzled way at Fitz as he slouched in the chair, holding onto the armrests so he wouldn't fall. Fitz busied his hands with undoing the Doctor's trousers, trying to hide how unsteady his hands were with motion. "I haven't actually... done this, but I've had it done to me loads of times, so I definitely know the theory of it."

"All right." He shifted anxiously. "Should I be doing something?"

"No, heh." Fitz scooted closer, trying to get close enough for what he was doing. "Just... tell me if I do it wrong."

"How will I know?"

"You'll know." He cut off any more protests by taking the man's cock in a loose grip, leaning down to kiss it dryly. The Doctor's mouth formed a surprised little O and he nodded slowly. Much better, since Fitz wasn't sure if he could talk the Doctor through this. Not because his mouth would be full in short order so much as he wasn't sure what he'd say.

Because the thing of it was, Fitz really hadn't done this before. His encounters with men could be counted on one hand and only one had even made it to an actual bed. He'd gone down on girls plenty of times and assumed it was a bit similar. Except getting a girl off was a very heterosexual, healthy thing to do whereas getting a bloke off with your mouth... wasn't. Getting on his knees for the Doctor felt like adding to his Kinsey number, or something. He was doing the sort of gay thing that didn't guarantee him any reciprocity, especially considering who he was doing it to and his relative lack of experience. It was crossing a line Fitz had drawn for himself because he was male and still took offense when someone called him a queer.

Although, and it was a big although or else he wouldn't be kneeling where he was, it was very hard to care about those things with a intriguing novelty of having this particular man in his mouth. He kept trying different things, slower, faster, sliding his lips up and down, doing things with his tongue. The Doctor had grown pretty uninhibited about sex, which was fine in the privacy of their bedroom back home, and he was practically broadcasting his opinions on the whole thing. Fitz knew already he didn't like teeth involved at all and suction felt great, but not as great as Fitz's tongue curling around him.

Fitz kept his eyes closed, one less distraction as he carefully figured out what the hell he was doing. When he did sometimes chance a look, he consistently found the Doctor staring at him, eyes so dark with arousal. He always looked away, like seeing Fitz looking back at him made the whole thing too much for him to stand. That was encouraging, as was the very tentative touch of the Doctor's hand on his head, so gradual Fitz barely realized he was doing it until nails scratched over the skin behind his ears and he hummed happily.

Humming was high on the More of That Please list, Fitz noted. The Doctor melted like chocolate in the sun, completely lax against the chair, contorting to its shape as though he'd lost all ability to support himself. His mouth was open and loudly gasping for air, head tossed back against the chair, pale chest rising and falling rapidly. Fitz braced his hands on the Doctor's thighs and took as much of him in as he could manage, pressed the flat of his tongue along the underside, and hummed the opening to a rock song the Doctor would have loudly objected to any other time.

The Doctor had the good sense to cover his mouth, but there was no way half the floor of the hotel didn't hear his loud, satisfied groan as he came. They were going to get seriously reprimanded by the staff and Anji was going to throw Fitz into the Canal, but Fitz would care about that later when he was swallowing as fast as he could and listening to the Doctor panting like he'd run a mile or just had the best orgasm in his short but respectable career in sex. Could go either way, that one.

Fitz sat back on his knees and picked up his Menabrea from the table, finishing the bottle off in a series of long gulps, watching the Doctor. Idly, he stroked the soft cock. The Doctor gave a full-bodied shiver and wearily batted Fitz's hand away. "No, no, don't... don't do that," he managed through some deep breaths.

"Sorry." Fitz climbed to his feet and leaned on the armrest, hanging over the Doctor and taking in the sight of him so completely debauched. "Too much?"

The Doctor glared weakly. "Smug is not a good look for you, Fitz."

"Liar. It's my best look." He smirked and sauntered back to the bed, reclining along it again and grabbing his book. "Let me know when you're done recovering."

Fitz was well versed in Doctorese and translated the glare he got as something along the lines of, If I were a lesser man, I would say something very rude about your person right now, but I am not, so I am taking the high road. You prat. Fitz winked at him and casually started reading again.

Fitz looked the Doctor dead in the eye as he slowly dragged his tongue over the top scoop of gelato. The Doctor hurriedly looked away, making a noise like someone had stepped on his foot. He walked quickly ahead of them, remaining in sight, but a good distance from Fitz. Fitz chuckled.

"Really, Fitz?" Anji asked, looking peeved. And like she hadn't gotten much sleep. Between introducing the Doctor to the joy of blowjobs and the Doctor's very generous returning of that favor, he wasn't surprised. Busy night. He smirked at her and kept suggestively licking his not-quite-ice cream. "I have no idea what he sees in you."

"What, you couldn't tell from last night?"

"Besides that!"

"Oh, so you admit I must be an absolutely brilliant shag?"

Anji dramatically put her hands over her ears. "I am not having this conversation with you. This is my last day in Venice and I am going to enjoy it. Imagining you having sex ruins everything."

Fitz pouted. "You're not even slightly attracted to me?"

"No."

"Oh." Fitz scuffed his feet sheepishly. "Well, this is a lot less fun now."

Anji did her eye roll thing again. She always did that around him. It always reminded him how lanky and awkward-looking he was. He followed her and the Doctor around silently, having a good sulk. Maybe he was just too old for her. Maybe all his attempts to be clever and charming just didn't work on her. Maybe he couldn't compare to whoever her last boyfriend was. It wasn't that he wanted to sleep with her, not anymore anyway, but he couldn't even flirt. Flirting was practically how Fitz said hello.

After a while, Anji took pity on him and said, "I think you look kind of cute in that green military cap you have." Fitz beamed and slung an arm around her shoulders, giving her a big wet kiss on the cheek. "Ugh, Fitz!" She rubbed her cheek roughly as he laughed. "At least you're finally enjoying yourself."

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I am." He rubbed her shoulder, keeping his arm around her for the moment. He wasn't worried for once, enjoying the afternoon in the city on the water with its winding streets and vibrancy, awesome in the classical, oft-forgotten sense. No spells to deal with, not job to run off to, and the imminent trip back home, they all lifted a weight off his shoulders. Venice hadn't sprung any major shocks on him and he was grateful to her for that. He reached out and ran his hand over one of the stone railings of a bridge they crossed, thanking the city for not shaking up his life as much as she was obviously capable of.

Nothing could go wrong.

There was a note on the door to their room when Fitz wandered back to it, a brand new pack of smokes in his pocket. Come outside, the dock nearest the hotel. There was no name, but the Doctor's barely legible, loopy cursive was unmistakable.

"I've commandeered a vessel!" the Doctor said cheerfully, spreading his arms wide. He was standing on what looked like a stripped gondola. In was a decent sized flat-bottomed boat, somewhat plain, lacking the fancy seats and ornate decor of some of the gondolas Fitz had seen around the city had. But it looked sturdy and reliable, as much as Fitz could tell.

"I can see that," Fitz said dryly, walking down the dock to stand beside the Doctor.

"It's a traghetto," he went on, as though that would mean something to Fitz.

"Not a gondola?" The Doctor's face fell and Fitz backpedaled quickly, "I mean, Anji's just been going on and on about getting her damn gondola ride... Should I go grab her?"

"Oh... no, no, I already told her where we were. Why don't you sit down?" He held out a hand to Fitz.

Fitz looked at it and at the boat, then looked around for Anji. "You don't want to wait for Anj? I mean, she loves this stuff. I can't even swim..."

"I won't let you fall. Please, Fitz," the Doctor said softly, hand still extended.

With the strangest sense of deja vu, Fitz took the Doctor's hand and stepped onto his ship.

Because Fitz was a clumsy git at the best of times, he did almost topple over the side. The Doctor grabbed his upper arm and steadied him before he hit the water. Fitz flushed under the surprised expression on his face, like even he was shocked Fitz was that unbalanced. It wasn't his fault the Doctor was short and had a lower center of gravity or something. Being tall and strikingly handsome was a curse.

Once he got Fitz safely seated on the boat, the Doctor grabbed the oar and used it to push away from the dock. "Hey, what're you doing? What about--?"

"She won't be joining us," the Doctor replied cryptically, steering the boat into the Canal and directing them away.

"Uh. Okay." Fitz held onto the sides of the boat and tried to relax. It was a little nerve-wracking and he kept looking over his shoulder at the Doctor. He looked confident in what he was doing, but he often looked confident when he didn't know what he was doing too, so Fitz felt unsure.

He luckily didn't startle too much when the Doctor touched his neck. His fingers pressed against Fitz's skin and it took a second for him to realize he was feeling for Fitz's pulse. "Why are you so nervous?"

"I'm not."

"Your heartrate says otherwise."

"Let's not play doctor right now," Fitz muttered. He tried to chill out, releasing his iron grip on the traghetto and putting his hands on his knees. Pleased, the Doctor's hand lightened, stroking soothingly, thumb tracing his hairline. Fitz let his head tip forward, offering himself up a bit more. "S'nice."

"You are always sensitive right around here." The pads of his fingers absently massaged out the tension in Fitz's neck.

"Which you exploit all the time."

"I don't think it's exploitation unless you're disagreeable to it." They were turning, Fitz could feel it, but kept his gaze down and eyes blissfully closed. "I could stop if you like."

"Are we still surrounded by water?"

"Yes."

"Then I wouldn't if I were you."

It wasn't horrible, feeling adrift like that along the water and knowing he was in if not the best hands at least some pretty good ones. It was oddly quiet, especially considering just how noisy Venice was during the day. When he took a furtive glance around, Fitz found the Canal-side houses were lit up in the dusk, their light reflecting in the water, the waves making everything dance like flames. The water looked like it was dotted with a thousand flickering candles. It was a bit beautiful.

Fitz twisted to tell the Doctor so when he finally noticed how the man was dressed. His coat was the same as ever, but his shirt was a pale hue of blue that made his eyes pop, covered in a very swanky silk waistcoat embroidered with paisley swirls. His trousers seemed tailored and his shoes were shiny and new. The Doctor hated new shoes, always preferring old, well-broken-in boots.

Unsettled, Fitz turned back in his seat, frowning. He knew now he was missing something, like a husband that forgot an anniversary. He was also extremely under-dressed, still wearing his clothes from the afternoon, just long sleeves and jeans with the hat the Doctor had given him. He was wearing trainers, for goodness sake, and the Doctor was practically in formal wear.

"What's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what's going on? Is today special and I forgot or something?"

"Special? Fitz, my dear, we're in Venezia."

"I mean besides that."

"Please, just relax. Don't work yourself into a state," the Doctor assuaged, touching Fitz's shoulder before returning to his rowing.

Somewhat mollified, Fitz sighed and watched as they drifted out of the Canal and a ways into the open water. The Doctor swung the traghetto slowly around so they faced back towards the city.

"Oh," Fitz whispered, staring at the Santa Maria della Salute, burning against the evening sky as though it'd been built out of bricks of light instead of stone. It was an ethereal sight in the dark, hypnotic enough that Fitz didn't immediately notice when the Doctor set the oar down on the side of the boat and sat next to Fitz. He eventually sensed he was being watched, the Doctor's eyes on him with the same intense admiration as Fitz was giving the church. Wordlessly, he took Fitz's hand and held it tight. He hardly blinked.

"What?" Fitz tried to look away without much success. The amount of affection coming from him was intimidating, but Fitz had to stare back. "What's going on, seriously?"

"Not yet," the Doctor murmured. His hands curled over Fitz's face, agonizingly tender. "I don't want to say just yet." He shook his head and leaned his, bumping his nose against Fitz's. "This whole thing could go wrong and I'll never get to do this again..."

Fitz's demands for an explanation were swallowed up in a kiss. They didn't seem so important with the Doctor kissing him so urgently, winding his fingers into Fitz's hair and pulling him closer. Fitz grabbed the sides of the boat, holding himself up as he was pulled down flush against the Doctor's chest. It went on and on, the hold on Fitz insistent like even stopping for a moment would break the Doctor's hearts. Fitz had no idea what was going on, but this he could do. Heedless to the fact they weren't exactly in private, Fitz pushed the Doctor down against the bottom of the boat, propping himself up over him. He pulled back for a breather, managing one gulp of air before he was tugged back down.

Fitz kissed like he was drowning in the best possible way, in something sweeter than water and more intoxicating than any drink. It was heady and dizzying, but the Doctor just held onto him and kissed back, and Fitz would die before disappointing the man.

The Doctor was mumbling again in that lilting, perfect imitation of the accent, "Ti amo, ti amo. Non lasciarmi. Voglio passare il resto della mia vita con te."

He didn't understand the words, but the meaning was clear. Maybe the Doctor, after so long alone, couldn't just say it and had to layer it like this. Fitz could relate to that as he just said, "Yeah, me too," before climbing off him. The Doctor sat up slowly after, still watching Fitz closely.

"Sposami," the Doctor said gravely.

Fitz laughed breathlessly. "Am I going to need to learn Italian now?"

"Marry me."

What?

What?

"What?" Fitz managed.

"Marry me. I want you to marry me." He took hold of Fitz's face again and gave him a bruising kiss. "I love you and I want you to stay with me. I don't want you to leave."

"A-are you serious?" His voice hadn't been that high since he was a teenager.

"Completely." Fitz found the tables turned as he was pushed back, landing on his elbows with a lap full of the Doctor as the man went on. "I want to have you and for you to have me. I don't care about all your silly objections. You can lead in the couple's dance and I'll take your name if it means you don't have to learn to spell mine. The next time you propose to Anji, I want her to tell you you're already engaged. To me." His hand dipped into his pocket and Fitz felt his jaw drop at the sight of a velvet ring box being pulled out.

"Holy shit."

The Doctor opened it, palming whatever was inside and dropping the box. "You keep driving off my dreams and giving me new ones. You make every pain hurt less and every good thing in my life that much better. You--" He cut himself off by giving Fitz another hard, fast kiss, like he couldn't stand another solitary second without. Drawing back, he went on as if there was no pause, "--make me happy just looking at you. You stayed with me and stopped me from hurting myself and you took me to Venice."

Fitz's left hand was snatched up and there was a ring in the Doctor's, a perfectly plain gold band. No, Fitz realized like a brick to the head. It was twisted. A Möbius strip of a ring.

Fitz needed to remember how to breathe.

The Doctor tilted his head back up, away from their hands and back to the Doctor's earnest blue eyes. "Fitzgerald Michael Kreiner, I really would like you to say you'll marry me." Like running out of steam, he rested his forehead against Fitz's. "Sposami, per favore."

There was no way this was happening. He wasn't getting proposed to by a bloke on a tiny little boat in the middle of Venice. Fitz's flight instinct was kicking in harder than ever before in his life, but he was surrounded by water and pinned down by the guy he loved. He loved the Doctor, he had the house and the quaint garden and the steady job and he couldn't hide and pretend he was going to be eighteen and reckless forever.

"Yes," Fitz said. Then blinked. "Oh, fuck, yes, I said yes, what the hell is wrong with me? I mean, yes."

The Doctor laughed and pushed the ring onto his finger before knocking him flat on his back, rocking the traghetto dangerously, and pressing their lips together in a fit of boundless joy.

Later, Fitz sat up and looked around.

"Doctor."

"Si, mi amore," the Doctor said dreamily, still laying in the boat.

"Stop that." He scrambled around, feeling around for it because it couldn't be lost, they'd be so screwed and Fitz couldn't swim.

The Doctor noted Fitz's distress and sat up, tugging his waistcoat straight as he did so. "What's wrong?"

"Where's the oar?"

The Doctor blinked and looked around as well. "Oh. It must have fallen off in the commotion. I'll have to buy a new one for the nice man I borrowed the traghetto from."

"Are you forgetting the bit about us floating in the middle of the water without any way to get back?!"

The Doctor smiled. "Don't worry. I have a plan." Fitz stared at him until he went on. "Anji will come for us."

"Why would she do that?"

He squeezed Fitz's hand. Fitz tried not to notice his thumb against the ring, turning it around Fitz's finger idly. "Because I asked her to. I asked her to check on us if we weren't back by midnight."

Incredulous, Fitz asked, "You... you planned for this?"

"No, I planned in case of this. Prior planning and preparation prevents poor performance."

"Oh god. You're insane." Fitz covered his face with the hand the Doctor wasn't petting. He was freaking out-- stranded and surrounded by water, how did he get in these messes?-- and it felt really good. If he freaked out about this smaller thing, he didn't have to consider the fact he'd done the lifestyle equivalent of jumping off a cliff before testing his bungee cord. "What time is it?"

The Doctor checked his silver pocket watch. "Right before eleven."

"Great. Okay." All he had to do was keep not thinking about things for another hour.

The Doctor shivered and inched closer to Fitz.

"Oh, come here, you git." Fitz urged the Doctor over, sitting him between his legs and pulling his back against Fitz's chest. He wrapped his arms loosely around the Doctor's waist, and the Doctor linked their hands together, tangling their fingers, holding onto Fitz as he reclined against him.

"I can't believe you said yes," the Doctor whispered, the sound almost lost to the waves around them.

His throat tightened, leaving him mute. Fitz shut his eyes and buried his face in the Doctor's curls, inhaling the smell of shampoo and salt water and home.

As soon as Anji was in sight, the Doctor waved at her. Or, rather, he waved Fitz's left hand at her, making Fitz want to throw himself overboard. Sadly, with rescue so nearby, he'd probably just be pulled out of the water before he had the chance to drown, so he didn't bother.

"I told you I would get you that gondola ride you wanted, didn't I?" The Doctor said amiably once she was within earshot.

Anji smiled and looked up at the man steering her gondola. "Yeah, but I didn't imagine it'd be like this. What happened?"

"We seem to have lost the oar. I'll have to procure another before returning the boat tomorrow." The Doctor carefully climbed to his feet and stepped lightly over onto the gondola. "Coming, Fitz?"

Fitz nodded and let Anji take his hand, keeping him steady as he crossed the gap between the boats. Settling down against one of the plush seats, he let the others fret over the traghetto, figuring out a way to bring it along with them as the returned to the hotel.

With Anji and the Doctor holding the traghetto, they set off at a leisurely pace, the gondolier guiding both vessels at once without complaint. The Doctor slipped back into Italian, presumably thanking him for his patience with them and getting themselves sorted out. With the others preoccupied with that, Fitz withdrew, staring down at his hand.

He'd never worn jewelry before, especially not rings. They caught on his guitar strings and weren't worth the effort. The most he'd ever wear would be a funky necklace he'd buy, keep on for a few days, then discard once he'd gotten bored of it. He couldn't do that with this. The ring would stay on his hand forever.

Forever. That was the most terrifying word in the entire English language. It made his blood run cold with its deep, unfailing promise. The Doctor had told Fitz not to make promises he couldn't keep. Now he put one on Fitz's finger, making that promise for him.

He wanted to take it off. He wanted to ask the Doctor where he got the idea that Fitz was the kind of person anyone would want to spend their lives with when even he didn't like spending his life with himself. The Doctor wanted to marry a man who preferred to wear the mask of anyone else rather than see himself in the mirror. On what planet was that marriage material?

This time last year, Fitz lacked a passport, a bank account, a suitcase, and hadn't been in a relationship more than two months. Now he was engaged.

"Fitz," Anji said faintly. "Are you okay?"

"No. No, Anj." He looked at her despairingly. "What the hell am I doing? I can't do this."

Anji glanced at the Doctor, who was off in his own wonderful world, looking around at the city as it floated by. "Yes, you can."

"No, I can't. I mean, have you met me? I'm not this guy."

She grabbed his hand, grip tight enough to make Fitz flinch. "Yes, you are. You're already that guy to him, you idiot. What is this going to change and make so horrible?"

Fitz shook his head silently. She didn't get it, she wasn't the Doctor's ... and he still didn't have a word for this, though now it was apparently fiance. She didn't support him like Fitz did, wasn't the one driving him horribly sane. The Doctor didn't look at her like he did at Fitz, like Fitz was something grand, worth leaving all those magical dreams of adventure behind for. Fitz never was supposed to be something cherished like that.

Whatever she saw in his face made her let go of his hand and give him a one-armed hug. "Tomorrow I am going to deny ever saying this to you, but you're a good man, Fitz, and most certainly do deserve this."

Fitz pressed his face into her shoulder and definitely did not cry a little against her jacket.

"None of this would have happened if you just said you'd marry me, Anj."

"You'll get over it," she said sweetly.

After they got back to their hotel room, after the Doctor laid Fitz down on the bed, after they did what Fitz would refer to as 'shagging' but was likely closer to something like 'making love', the Doctor pushed himself up on his arms so he could kiss Fitz, a quick peck against his lips, and said, "Sing me something."

"I don't have my guitar."

"I don't care." The Doctor kissed his bare shoulder. "I love your voice. I love you."

"You have to stop saying that, you're killing me," Fitz protested weakly.

"It stands to reason if you sing, I won't be able to." He smiled, already knowing his weird brand of logic would win again.

Fitz rolled over onto his side, curling an arm around the Doctor and rubbing his back. Looking at him, sated and content with the universe, the only thing he could think of spilled out of his lips. "All the sights of Paris are pale inside your iris... Tip the Eiffel Tower with one glance, stained glass cathedrals with one glint, you smashed it with your eyes..."

The Doctor's eyes softened at the sound of Fitz's smoke-worn voice. "We could have gone to Paris instead."

Fitz grinned. It had all just come down to a song, this entire trip, didn't it? "Nah, Venice was great."

"It was, yes." His gaze bored into Fitz, a bright gleam of hope clear in the blue. "But perhaps... next year, we can go there?"

Paris with the Doctor. That sounded amazing to him. Fitz nodded. "Save up all year, go in the autumn or winter, out of tourist season."

The Doctor sighed, finally resting his head down on the pillow. "That'd be wonderful."

Fitz smiled and thought about how another year had passed. He wasn't sure why to him the beginning of winter was the start of his year instead of January, but it was. In another ten or eleven months, he, the Doctor, and hopefully Anji would go to Paris and see the Eiffel Tower and Lourve. Then they'd walk the streets together, looking for the types of adventures you didn't find in a handbook. Before then, they'd live in their little house and tend to the garden. Fitz and Anji would work all day and watch over the Doctor. Somewhere in there, there would be a wedding, even if the thought of it just then made Fitz want to hide under the bed in fear.

Maybe this year would be the one where the Doctor finally snapped and lost his mind. Maybe this year his episodes would stop altogether and he'd shake off the hold his dreams had over him. Maybe nothing would change; Fitz would spend some nights reminding the Doctor he was human, and some nights in their bed, doing pretty much the same thing.

Maybe Anji would leave and maybe it'd be just Fitz and the Doctor in that big house of theirs. Maybe someone would rent out that first floor bedroom, replacing Anji's things with their own. Maybe Anji would stay forever.

For the moment, Fitz lay next to the Doctor with an infinite gold band around his finger, completely still, but filled to the brim with potential energy.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

kylawild.livejournal.com

Gah.....I wanted to read them all before I commented and.....gah

I know nothing about this verse really except the Doctor and dammit this was wonderful. Aaaaaand now I need to find that book.

From:

and the only difference is the spelling

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