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Entry tags:
Crossover fic: Circle of Friends, PG
Disclaimer: not mine
Fandoms: Doctor Who, Farscape, BSG, Torchwood, Leverage
Length: 1000
Rating: PG
Pairing: Amy/Rory
SPOILERS: ALL the way through The Big Bang.
notes: This is a vague sequel to John Crichton Explains It All. Only, this time, it's not Sam Anders in the spotlight. And also, I've been listening to too much C. S. Lewis.
Summary: Rory Williams discovers he's part of an ever-widening network.
Circle of Friends
by ALC Punk!
Rory Williams adjusted his tie, then shrugged on his jacket. There. Perfect. He gave himself a nervous smile in the mirror, and reminded himself that Amy was marrying him, the world was beautiful, and, and... he wasn't sure what to add to that list, so he turned away.
Stepping through the door into the hallway, he felt an odd sense of things being jarred and abruptly realized that he must have opened the wrong door. Quite which door would have been the right one, given that the only other exit was into his closet, he wasn't entirely sure. But he was very certain that standing in the entrance to a pub was not where he was supposed to be.
"You're late," said a man, waving hand at him, "John Crichton."
"Rory," said Rory automatically, before he frowned, "What do you mean, late? I'm meant to be at my own wedding."
"Don't worry, I think I slept through most of mine." This from a tall man with blue eyes and an easy grin. "You'll still remember it. I'm Sam."
"Why," said Rory, his voice exasperated, "am I here?" He didn't question being 'here' wherever 'here' was. Some part of him remembered that you didn't question weirdness, you simply went with it (not that he remembered how he remembered).
John Crichton waved Rory to a stool, "We're here to welcome you to the club."
"The club... is this some sort of hazing ritual? Did Amy's father put you up to this?"
"Nah," Sam handed Rory a beer, then glanced around, "We're here--" and it was here that Rory finally noticed how, well, full, the pub was. It was mostly men, though there were a few women dotted here and there. And a few that Rory wasn't entirely certain what to classify as. "--to show you you're not alone," finished Sam.
"Yes, I can see that," Rory replied, his tone sarcastic. He took the beer though, sniffing it doubtfully before deciding that if they were planning to drug him, there would be no help for it, and drank.
The others seemed to take his comment in stride, most of them busying themselves with their own drinks. In the corner, a turquoise-haired woman was playing pool with a blond man who kept joking about dinosaurs, not to mention losing badly to the woman.
"So, what sort of club is this?" asked Rory, when he had finished about half his pint. "Bikers? Secret sounds of the universe?"
"The my girlfriend blew me up club," suggested a slightly weasel-faced man from one table. He sounded almost bored.
In the seat across from him, Sam Carter snorted, "Westen, Fi really did blow you up." With her shot in, she took a long drink from her beer and settled back in her chair looking smug.
"She shot him, too," submitted Alec Hardison, his fingers tapping away idly on the laptop he had in front of him. "More than once," he added, his tone almost admiring.
It was moot whether Hardison was admiring Fiona Glenanne or Westen more.
Rory rubbed a hand over his face, then started to tug at his tie before remembering: wedding. "So, I'm here, because... Amy's going to blow me up?"
"We hope not," said a comfortable-looking man, his Welsh accent rather pronounced. "Still, it's best to be prepared." Tipping his pint to Rory, he added, "Rhys Williams. Apparently, there are a lot of us about."
"Williamses?" asked Rory.
"Men being blown up," corrected Sam Anders. He grimaced, then added, "Or shot, or--"
"Yes, yes--" waving his hands, Crichton stopped that line of conversation. "Don't scare him off, guys."
A strange smile crossed Rory's face, and he shook his head, "You can't scare me off, you know. I'm marrying Amelia Pond today--" if it was still today, "--and that's enough terror for any number of lifetimes."
"Man, did we all sound like that? 'Cause I got to tell you, it's sort of lame. And disconcerting." Apparently tired of his computer, Hardison leaned back in his chair and looked at Rory. "It's simple, your soon-to-be-wife is a little psycho. As such, there are some things you should prepare for."
"Now who sounds like a lawyer," sniped Eliot Spencer, his very expensive beer half-empty.
Hardison opened his mouth to reply, and Rory interrupted. "What is going on here? I'm meant to be at my wedding, not chatting."
"Time runs differently here." Crichton waved a hand, as though it explained everything, and then pointed at Rory. "Any questions? We can give pointers on a variety of subjects. Some of us have even died."
Rory found himself saying, "I've already died twice, think I've got that covered." And then he frowned, as though uncertain where the words had come from. His memory told him he'd never died, that the closest he'd come to death had been a school prank involving a defibrillator. And yet...
"Just give him a beer, Crichton," suggested Anders, moving away to drop into a chair opposite another tall man. Karl Agathon raised his own mug in agreement, though he wasn't drinking beer.
The beer was appreciated, even if the butterflies in Rory's stomach weren't because of Amy. Well, not really. He loved her, she loved him, there was just... something missing, but he couldn't tell what. He wasn't entirely sure why he was comfortable in a strange room with strange people--then again, it was so obviously an hallucination, he supposed that it didn't much matter whether he was comfortable a not.
Besides, the beer was a decent brew, even if it was cold.
It wasn't long before he was commiserating with different members of the group, and learning that life with Amy wasn't going to be predictable. Rory was all right with that: life without Amy was too predictable, and even if the worst happened, if she left him, he'd have his memories.
Though what they were of, he wasn't entirely sure.
By the time he'd remembered the wedding, he was halfway to being drunk. Luckily for him, stepping back through into his bedroom (he still wasn't sure how there was a pub in his hallway) sobered him up.
He didn't even wince when someone banged on the door, shouting that he was going to be late.
-f-
Sam Anders and Karl Agathon are from Battlestar Galactica
John Crichton is from Farscape
Alec Hardison and Eliot Spencer are from Leverage
Rhys Williams is from Torchwood
The turqoise-haired woman is AndrAIa from Reboot (she has nominal head girl status of the female version of this club)
Her blond partner with the dinosaurs is Wash from Firefly
Michael Westen is from Burn Notice
Sam Carter is from Stargate: SG-1
I think that's everyone.
Fandoms: Doctor Who, Farscape, BSG, Torchwood, Leverage
Length: 1000
Rating: PG
Pairing: Amy/Rory
SPOILERS: ALL the way through The Big Bang.
notes: This is a vague sequel to John Crichton Explains It All. Only, this time, it's not Sam Anders in the spotlight. And also, I've been listening to too much C. S. Lewis.
Summary: Rory Williams discovers he's part of an ever-widening network.
Circle of Friends
by ALC Punk!
Rory Williams adjusted his tie, then shrugged on his jacket. There. Perfect. He gave himself a nervous smile in the mirror, and reminded himself that Amy was marrying him, the world was beautiful, and, and... he wasn't sure what to add to that list, so he turned away.
Stepping through the door into the hallway, he felt an odd sense of things being jarred and abruptly realized that he must have opened the wrong door. Quite which door would have been the right one, given that the only other exit was into his closet, he wasn't entirely sure. But he was very certain that standing in the entrance to a pub was not where he was supposed to be.
"You're late," said a man, waving hand at him, "John Crichton."
"Rory," said Rory automatically, before he frowned, "What do you mean, late? I'm meant to be at my own wedding."
"Don't worry, I think I slept through most of mine." This from a tall man with blue eyes and an easy grin. "You'll still remember it. I'm Sam."
"Why," said Rory, his voice exasperated, "am I here?" He didn't question being 'here' wherever 'here' was. Some part of him remembered that you didn't question weirdness, you simply went with it (not that he remembered how he remembered).
John Crichton waved Rory to a stool, "We're here to welcome you to the club."
"The club... is this some sort of hazing ritual? Did Amy's father put you up to this?"
"Nah," Sam handed Rory a beer, then glanced around, "We're here--" and it was here that Rory finally noticed how, well, full, the pub was. It was mostly men, though there were a few women dotted here and there. And a few that Rory wasn't entirely certain what to classify as. "--to show you you're not alone," finished Sam.
"Yes, I can see that," Rory replied, his tone sarcastic. He took the beer though, sniffing it doubtfully before deciding that if they were planning to drug him, there would be no help for it, and drank.
The others seemed to take his comment in stride, most of them busying themselves with their own drinks. In the corner, a turquoise-haired woman was playing pool with a blond man who kept joking about dinosaurs, not to mention losing badly to the woman.
"So, what sort of club is this?" asked Rory, when he had finished about half his pint. "Bikers? Secret sounds of the universe?"
"The my girlfriend blew me up club," suggested a slightly weasel-faced man from one table. He sounded almost bored.
In the seat across from him, Sam Carter snorted, "Westen, Fi really did blow you up." With her shot in, she took a long drink from her beer and settled back in her chair looking smug.
"She shot him, too," submitted Alec Hardison, his fingers tapping away idly on the laptop he had in front of him. "More than once," he added, his tone almost admiring.
It was moot whether Hardison was admiring Fiona Glenanne or Westen more.
Rory rubbed a hand over his face, then started to tug at his tie before remembering: wedding. "So, I'm here, because... Amy's going to blow me up?"
"We hope not," said a comfortable-looking man, his Welsh accent rather pronounced. "Still, it's best to be prepared." Tipping his pint to Rory, he added, "Rhys Williams. Apparently, there are a lot of us about."
"Williamses?" asked Rory.
"Men being blown up," corrected Sam Anders. He grimaced, then added, "Or shot, or--"
"Yes, yes--" waving his hands, Crichton stopped that line of conversation. "Don't scare him off, guys."
A strange smile crossed Rory's face, and he shook his head, "You can't scare me off, you know. I'm marrying Amelia Pond today--" if it was still today, "--and that's enough terror for any number of lifetimes."
"Man, did we all sound like that? 'Cause I got to tell you, it's sort of lame. And disconcerting." Apparently tired of his computer, Hardison leaned back in his chair and looked at Rory. "It's simple, your soon-to-be-wife is a little psycho. As such, there are some things you should prepare for."
"Now who sounds like a lawyer," sniped Eliot Spencer, his very expensive beer half-empty.
Hardison opened his mouth to reply, and Rory interrupted. "What is going on here? I'm meant to be at my wedding, not chatting."
"Time runs differently here." Crichton waved a hand, as though it explained everything, and then pointed at Rory. "Any questions? We can give pointers on a variety of subjects. Some of us have even died."
Rory found himself saying, "I've already died twice, think I've got that covered." And then he frowned, as though uncertain where the words had come from. His memory told him he'd never died, that the closest he'd come to death had been a school prank involving a defibrillator. And yet...
"Just give him a beer, Crichton," suggested Anders, moving away to drop into a chair opposite another tall man. Karl Agathon raised his own mug in agreement, though he wasn't drinking beer.
The beer was appreciated, even if the butterflies in Rory's stomach weren't because of Amy. Well, not really. He loved her, she loved him, there was just... something missing, but he couldn't tell what. He wasn't entirely sure why he was comfortable in a strange room with strange people--then again, it was so obviously an hallucination, he supposed that it didn't much matter whether he was comfortable a not.
Besides, the beer was a decent brew, even if it was cold.
It wasn't long before he was commiserating with different members of the group, and learning that life with Amy wasn't going to be predictable. Rory was all right with that: life without Amy was too predictable, and even if the worst happened, if she left him, he'd have his memories.
Though what they were of, he wasn't entirely sure.
By the time he'd remembered the wedding, he was halfway to being drunk. Luckily for him, stepping back through into his bedroom (he still wasn't sure how there was a pub in his hallway) sobered him up.
He didn't even wince when someone banged on the door, shouting that he was going to be late.
-f-
Sam Anders and Karl Agathon are from Battlestar Galactica
John Crichton is from Farscape
Alec Hardison and Eliot Spencer are from Leverage
Rhys Williams is from Torchwood
The turqoise-haired woman is AndrAIa from Reboot (she has nominal head girl status of the female version of this club)
Her blond partner with the dinosaurs is Wash from Firefly
Michael Westen is from Burn Notice
Sam Carter is from Stargate: SG-1
I think that's everyone.
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I have just gotten to the part in Dr. Who where Rory...well. I'm hoping this means that later on there will be better news on that front, b/c I love Rory and I cried.
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btw - there's a typo at the end where you put Sam Carter in Battlestar Galactica.
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Thank you!
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Thank you!
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Thank you!
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Awww, Rory. I love how confused he is, but still rolls with it, even if he can't remember why he's so good at coping with weirdness. (Amy is good training for this too.)
A++ for fun! :D