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the crossover marriage meme
the CROSSOVER marriage meme
December edition

Strike up the church bells! Flower girls, hold that train high! What a massive ring! And the groom's best friends might as well forgot about seeing him at all for the next few weeks, because that dude is busy.

Busy BEING MARRIED. Like you are, now. Congratulations! There's one hitch in your marital bliss, however. The person you're married to is not from the same canon as you are.

1. Comment with your character (you might want to put your character's name, canon, and any prefs you have in the subject header).
2. Reply to other characters from different canons ICly.
3. Anyone you reply to is now.... YOUR SPOUSE.
4. Bicker, coo, argue about how the wedding went or how the divorce is going, be domestic, or enjoy the many pleasures of the marital bed!
5. Remember, no canonmates!

stolen from an older meme & meme wording shamelessly ganked from the_love_hotel's married meme, but gen'd up and crossover element added.

Rose Tyler | Doctor Who

Re: Rose Tyler | Doctor Who

((ooc: how about adding a little Cajun spice to your life? :D ))

((ooc: Nothing like a little Cajun every once in a while. Come at me, bro. =D))

Wearing a pair of pajama bottoms and an apron, Remy stands at the stove, stirring the contents of a pan and whistling to himself. Behind him the table is set with glasses, mugs, bowls and spoons, and complete with a small vase containing one singer white rose.

"Bonjour, mon amour," he greets his new wife as she enters the kitchen.

She leaned against the kitchen doorway, harms crossed comfortably over her middle, just taking in the sight of one shirtless husband, cooking for her. Now there was a strange sight. She crossed the room with a tiny smile.

"A girl could get used to this," and she ducked in to press a kiss to his cheek. "Morning, love."

Edited at 2011-12-17 09:47 pm (UTC)

"Get used t' what, chère?" Remy asked, playing innocent. "De amazin' night last night, de smell o' coush coush in de mornin', or de fact dat y' get t' look at dis every mornin' fo' de rest of your life?"

Winking at Rose, the Cajun turned the burner off and set the pan aside so he could turn around and embrace her.

She rolled her eyes, tugging open the fridge to dig out a pitcher of orange juice. She poured some in her glass, then his, looking amused. "All three. And I'm still getting used to your humility. It's terribly humbling."

She shot him a wry look over the top of her orange juice glass as she sipped.

Turning back to the stove, Remy removed the pan and walked over to the table. “Dat’s me, Monsieur Modest,” he said as he divvied the coush coush between the two bowls. Setting the milk and sugar by her bowl, he set the pan in the sink and pulled out her chair.

“Still gettin’ used t’ dis domestic bliss too?” He asked the question lightly, but secretly he was serious about it. He knew Rose hadn’t exactly had a dull life, and as confident as he was and as exciting as his own life could be at times, Remy couldn’t help but worry a bit that she might grow bored of their life together.

She slid into her chair, pulling it up to the table and crossing her legs on it. Manners? Who needed those. Sitting properly was a thing of the past.

He wasn't the only one with concerns. Her husband, charming, handsome, undoubtedly popular with the women, stuck with her. Rose Tyler, shop girl. Forever.

She did appreciate the concern, though, and sent him a reassuring smile. Calm down, nerves. It was new, maybe awkward to adjust to, but they were married for a reason. They'd adjust, once the newness wore off. She was completely confident of it. "A bit, but I've got a pretty brilliant partner in it. And if he keeps on cooking like this, I'm going to get fat, and he'll stop worrying about me swanning off."

Don't worry. She definitely wasn't going to get fat.

Once Rose was seated, Remy took his own seat across from her. Tossing his apron over his shoulder to land on the counter behind him, he poured some milk over the mixture in his bowl and sprinkled sugar over it all. Popping a spoonful into his mouth, he smiled back at her over the table.

She definitely knew the right thing to say.

“Dat so...” he said, his grin growing a bit mischievous. Taking the sugar bowl, he pushed it across the table toward her. “It’s much better wit’ sugar.”

"Yup," she nodded, grinning a bit, and attacked it with maybe a bit too much sugar, just like she took her tea. She'd be bouncing off the walls by mid afternoon, and poor Remy was going to have to deal with it. He'd be scrambling for the hills by dinner. She took a bite, humming in approval. "This is brilliant."

A few bites passed. "So, what's the plan for today?"

Watching her across the table as she smothered her breakfast in sugar, Remy decided it was her smile he loved most. Sure, he decided it was something different every time he thought about it, but right now it was definitely her smile. It was so carefree, so open, so genuine, and she blessed him with it so often. He’d had enough of women who were filled with worry, angst, and pure sadness so much that a completely honest smile was a rarity rather than the norm. Maybe their decision to get married had been rash, but he hadn’t regretted it for a moment.

“Merci. It’s an’ ol’ family recipe,” he said, tucking into his own. At her question, though, he paused a moment. “I guess dat depends on my wife.” Reaching up to spin the rose around in the vase, he tilted his head to the side as he looked at her with his unusual red-on-black eyes. “I know our honeymoon wasn’t dat long ago, but I was t’inkin’ we could go somewhere fo’ de weekend.”

Rose, for her part, was still a bit hesitant to believe it was all real. It was an uncommon occurrence, actually reaching a milestone in a relationship. Actually, legitimately getting there with a person who felt mutually the same was... it was a baffling feeling. Just thinking about it filled her with a giddiness that made her wonder if she wasn't still secretly nineteen. And there was always the concerned that they rushed in too quickly, the tiny bit of exhilarating fear that he'd turn out to be someone other than who he was. Had she been with him long enough to know who he was? Considering her history with men in the past, she tended to leap before she looked.

She squashed down the insecurity. He was brilliant. Amazing, wonderful, treated her brilliantly, had a drive for life and felt... genuine. It just felt... good. Right. She met his gaze unfaltering, looking pleased and excited. He knew her well, she was always up for an adventure, a weekend get-away, anything of the sort. Keep that up, and he'd never have to worry about her getting bored by the domesticity. "Really? Where? I'd love to go away for a bit, what'd you have in mind?"

There it was, that smile he loved so much. He never had to wonder with her how she was really feeling, if she was truly excited about the prospect or if she was faking it, because the truth was written all over her face. Finishing the rest of his breakfast, making sure to take his time and keep her waiting a little just to build suspense, he finally pushed his bowl aside and steepled his fingers in front of him.

“I was t’inkin’... how ‘bout Paris?” Remy suggested. France had been the first place Remy had gone after leaving America, it felt somewhat more like home than any other place he could think of, and it had helped him get back on his feet. It would always hold a special place in his heart, even if he now called London his home. “La Ville de L’amour.”

She pouted a bit as he drug it out- holding back her curiosity was never her strong suit- but she ate, shooting him furtive glances.

Paris? She lit up with excitement. "Paris as in- as in France?"

She'd never been. All over the universe, future and past, but she'd never been to Paris. She had been on a spaceship with dimensional windows to Versailles, but that really, really wasn't the same. She grinned. "If it means I get to hear you speak French like that while we're there, count me in."

Remy hadn’t expected her to be so excited about the idea. For someone who hadn’t just seen the world but many worlds and many times he would have expected that somewhere as simple as Paris in the present time would be very humdrum, so her reaction far exceeded his expectation and left him smiling brightly back at her.

“Oui, dat’s de one,” he said, growing more excited about the idea himself now that he knew how happy she was about it. And if it made her happy he was glad to do it. “Why wait ‘til we’re dere?”

Taking Rose’s hands, Remy got to his feet and rounded the table to playfully drop to one knee in front of her.

“Ma belle Rose, mon coeur bat pour toi! Je t’aime toujours!”

It didn't matter that it was on Earth, going some place new was always exciting. And it was more about the person you were traveling with than the place you were going, anyway. Rose was all about the experience, and suddenly, nothing in the world sounded better than going to Paris with her new husband.

Her smiled widened and she tilted her head slightly, expression fond. "I dunno what you said, but I definitely like the way that you said it."

It wasn't entirely true. She'd planned to take her A-levels in French before she dropped out of school. She knew enough to pick out the fact that he called her beautiful and that he loved her, and that was plenty enough for her. She ducked in to catch his lips.

((ooc: many apologies, holidays and illness ate me))

Remy grinned widely at her response. There was something just so simple about Rose despite her complicated history. She was just so honest and open, never pretentious; with her, what you see is what you get. She never pretended to be something she wasn’t, never hid a dark past behind shaded eyes like he himself, and she just... she never pushed him away. Usually it was the challenge that the Cajun loved, but with Rose it was the lack of it that had been so refreshing. Not in the way that he could have most women throwing themselves at him with just a smile and a wink, but something else entirely. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, exactly, but she was special, that much was clear.

Returning the kiss, he could taste the sugar and orange juice from breakfast, much sweeter on her than the food itself had been.

“Y’ best be gettin’ packed,” he said, pulling back after a moment. It was odd to go on vacation from a relatively relaxing life. With the X-Men it was always doom and gloom, stress and life-threatening situations, so when they finally got a vacation it was so hard to actually relax.


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