promethia_tenk | FIC: Substitute (1/?)

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FIC: Substitute (1/?)

Title: Substitute (1/?)
Fandom: Doctor Who, Amy, River/Eleven, probably Rory in future sections
Length: 944 words in this section
Rating: PG, no warnings
Spoilers: "The Big Bang"
Summary: AU from "The Big Bang:" Amy begins to realize there's something wrong with her life.
AN: --Written for the

spoiler_song ficathon. Prompt by

beerbad : River + Eleven + Amy, AU end of S5 - Amy wakes up and it turns out River and the Doctor are her parents... somehow (I CANNOT SHAKE THIS PLOT BUNNY FOR THE LIFE OF ME). OMG, beerbad, I can't either. Awesome, awesome prompt.
--This should, by all rights, be total crackfic, and yet almost nothing you can write for this fandom really feels like crack to me.
--Also: I am an American, and this proved to be a greater difficulty in writing for a domestic setting than it does for your average space adventure. I did my best, but I would be most grateful to anyone who can correct any really egregious Americanisms. Don't talk to me about spelling, however; life is too short. ETA: thanks to

stick_poker for a britpick.
--I've got ideas about how to continue this. Feedback very welcome.

Amy (Amelia) Pond awoke, as she did most days, to the sound of birds singing outside and bickering downstairs:

“Well I don’t know where the fire extinguisher is! Do we even have a fire extinguisher?”
“Yes, we have a fire extinguisher! Or, at least, we did, and if I find it next week wired up to some . . . whoseamawhatsit out in the garden, I am burning down your study to teach you a lesson.”
“Fair enough. Woah, nelly, look at that. Get me a pot lid or something; we’ll smother it out.”

She smiled sleepily to herself and, rolling her eyes, got out of bed. Based on past experience, the chances of the whole house actually going up in flames were not that great, but it wouldn’t hurt to be alert. Pulling a dressing gown on over her nightie, she stretched, made a face at herself in her mirror, and, patting a little handmade doll on the head, remarked offhandedly to it: “What do you think, Augustus? Porridge? Sounds like porridge this morning.” The doll, being a doll, did not, of course, respond, but Amy fancied to herself that his cute balding head nodded knowingly back.

Amy picked her way downstairs, through the familiar piles of books that littered the hall. There was a new contraption, hanging from the second story railing, that she had to duck under, and she was wondering idly whether those were her stockings securing the blender in place when a loud blast sounded from the kitchen. She paused in her descent:
“Everything alright down there?”
“Amy? Is that you?” her father yelled back. “Just a small explosion; we’re fine.”
“Speak for yourself . . . Amy, dear, would you bring the post in? I thought I heard the flap.”
Amy hopped down the last few stairs and stopped in the entrance to pick up the pile of letters on the mat. As she reached for them, however, the sight of the door’s worn blue paint brought her up short. “That’s . . .” For a moment she felt a flash of something she couldn’t identify: blue . . . blue what? Curious . . . . She shook herself. Déjà vu or something. And giving the door an embarrassed smile, she spun around and headed for the kitchen.

It was her favorite room. The walls were a vibrant orange that half glowed in the morning light. Pots and pans, strange gadgets, and the odd hat or house plant or Christmas ornament all hung from everywhere. The counters and tabletop were scattered with the same academic debris as the rest of the house: more books, thick drifts of papers. Her dad was the cook, and while, after 21 years, Amy could still see no rhyme or reason to his organizational system, her mum did have the uncanny ability to find, say, the cinnamon if absolutely necessary.

“Morning, Mum. Post?” said Amy, handing it over. Her mother was still in her dressing gown, wild hair all over the place, coffee in hand.
“Thanks, honey. Have some porridge. There’s a new scorch mark on my ceiling, so it’s bound to be good.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” replied her father, looking slightly singed as he offered Amy a kiss on the forehead and a steaming bowl. Amy accepted both and pushed aside a calculus text to make room for herself at the table.
“Hmm . . .” her mother sorted through the post. “Me, me, me . . . ‘current resident’--that’s you sweetie . . .” Her father swatted at the proffered envelope with the porridge spoon, and her mother gave him a teasing grin as she dodged the attack and then snuck in to slip the unwanted missive under one of his braces. “You’re welcome. Me, me, catalogue for Amy . . . ‘Dr. River Pond.’” She pulled back in disgust from the letter in her hands. “Scrap,” she decided and pitched it over her shoulder.
Amy craned her head around to look at it on the floor. “Mum, it’s from the bank.”
“If they can’t get my name right, it’s scrap. Right--plans for the day?”
“Lunch with Rory. And then I have an office party: boss’s birthday, I think.”
“You may have to retrieve some of your costume from the scanner in the hallway.”
“I thought I saw my stockings.”
“But the solar flares are going to . . .” Her father looked like someone had stolen his puppy.
“You should have thought of that before you raided your daughter’s wardrobe, dear.”
He made a face at that. “Don’t police women wear trousers these days? You know, Amy, I could get you a job at the lab . . . .”
“Hush, we’re being supportive, remember?”
“I’m not sure I was part of that conversation. What about Costa Rica? Volunteering in Costa Rica?”
“Hush.” And she gave him a smooch to shut him up. “You coming into the University with me?”
“Only if I get to drive.”
Amy let the usual morning routine carry on around her and decided the slight prickly feeling in the back of her mind would go away once she’d had a cup of tea.

The world was ending around them: red and still and oppressive. For the moment, however, Amy had forgotten it. The tired old man in front of her, hunched in the cool light of his cave, was telling her impossible things: That big, empty house--just you . . . . Where were your mum and dad? Amy felt familiar words rising in her throat. She’d lost them, of course. Didn’t like to think about it. But the old man kept on: How? What happened to them? Where did they go? Amy searched her memories. She . . . blank. She stammered, staggered. Surely she should remember . . . . It’s ok, it’s ok, don’t panic. It’s not your fault. Amy’s mind clutched at shadows she hadn’t know were there.

Some more little scenes here.

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There are a few things that are not actually problematic but in the aggregate make it sound American. Dohickey - not really a British thing, though gadget or contraption is fine. Robe can be got away with but would more likely be a dressing gown. The big one is oatmeal, though; we, and very definitely the Scottish, though is she still Scottish now? eat porridge, not oatmeal. And we don't have the Peace Corps and I'm not sure we even have a British equivalent as such, just volunteering overseas, like woman in The Lodger and her orang-utan project.

Thing is, though, despite those details, I know a remarkably large number of households where there are academics and scientists and clutter and gadgets and the potential for deep uncertainty about the whereabouts of the cinnamon, while also the certainty that somewhere, there is cinnamon, and good grief this hits the mark. I'm really looking forward to seeing where you go with this. *cheers*

Ah, thanks very much! I'll make some changes here imminently.

Dohickey - not really a British thing
Damn. I love the word dohickey. I may try to find an appropriately silly substitution. Although . . . is it just me, or does River occasionally feel a bit American to anyone else? It's something in the attitude.

And we don't have the Peace Corps
Huh, always assumed that was an international organization. Learn something new every day.

good grief this hits the mark
Excellent! Thanks for all your help.

Thingamajig might well do, we have thingamajigs (or thingummyjigs, not exactly a formalised spelling). And oojamaflips. But I think you generally have to have had a thingamajig first to need the differentiation for an oojamaflip.

I think I know what you mean about her being faintly American. Maybe it's just the big Hollywood smile? But something in the big attitude. But maybe that's just because she's from, you know, space and the future, which is inself retro-futuristic in quite an American way.

"Thingamajig" should do very well, cheers. And we've got thingamajigs in America too, so I feel slightly more comfortable with employing it. ("Post" was very hard to use; I had to wipe the word "mail" from my head for the duration.) Don't think I've heard "oojamaflip" before, how very amusing.

Yeah, I was trying to decide if it was just that she reminds me of Han Solo and Indiana Jones, who are both about as American as it gets. Fair point, though, about the retro-futuristic-American-ness of space.

I never know how many of these things are just where I'm from, but I think oojamaflip is quite a nice-middle-class-Mum-of-a-certain-age sort of a thing to say all over Britain.

So she's Harrison Ford twice? Will she turn out to have unexpected carpentry skills somewhere along the way? *grins*

I never know how many of these things are just where I'm from, but I think oojamaflip is quite a nice-middle-class-Mum-of-a-certain-age sort of a thing to say all over Britain.
*files away useful knowledge for future use*

So she's Harrison Ford twice? Will she turn out to have unexpected carpentry skills somewhere along the way?
It would in no way surprise me to find that out. :-) I think the woman can secretly do anything.

Oh, and, yes, post; sufficiently well-deployed I didn't notice, so there you go.

*phew* I did research for that, I did.

What about whoseamawhatsits? Do the British have whoseamawhatsits? Suddenly thingamajig isn't seeming weird enough.

I think we probably have those, aye...

thanks!

though is she still Scottish now?
That is a very good question. The answer may very well be "the crack makes us not think about it."

This is so great and compelling so far!!! Of course it just makes me want moooooooore. :) Especially a scene where they realize they're all actually time travelers, oh man! I'm just completely in love with the idea of them as this little family unit. <3

(Not sure if this is relevant to your story, but in my head River has always known that Amy was their daughter - since Amy's birth would be in her past - but kept it hush-hush because it was still in the Doctor's future... which makes canon complicated but it's AU so who cares! lol. Just a thought. :)

Oh, I'm so glad you like it. It really is an inspired prompt. The temptation, I'll admit, is just to write domestic little scenes for them, but I almost feel this needs a real plot.

Not sure if this is relevant to your story, but in my head River has always known that Amy was their daughter - since Amy's birth would be in her past . . .

**SPOILERS**

Well, my plan is that River and the Doc are not, in fact, Amy's parents. But when the Big Bang was going on and Amy was trying to remember her parents, per the Doctor's instructions, she couldn't. So while he brain is thrashing around for memories, it latches onto the two people in her living memory who've given her the most parental-type attention: the Doctor and River. Given that Aunt Sharon doesn't seem particularly maternal, I think it's just possible they are the most parental figures Amy can think of. And so the universe did its best to accommodate her. Hope that sounds interesting to you.

Oh it works unbelievably well! I draw massive sparkly hearts around the whole thing, and all the banter/bickering is *fabulous*.

Especially loved this line of River's for some reason, I could hear her say it:

“If they can’t get my name right, it’s scrap. Right--plans for the day?”

*flails and runs away to do PRODUCTIVE THINGS omg*

*claps with glee* *silly grin* I'm so glad you think so. I think this is getting written instead of the other WIP. I'm just so in love with the concept and with the fact that it's way more plausible than it should be. I've been doing nothing else all day, just writing.

“If they can’t get my name right, it’s scrap. Right--plans for the day?”
Shameless moment of self-projection. I am ruthless in screening my mail. Even more so my phone calls. I'm pretty sure I've said this exact thing aloud (substituting "junk" for "scrap.")

*flails and runs away to do PRODUCTIVE THINGS omg*
OMG, go be productive! Good luck!

THIS.
OMG. THIS. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I DON'T EVEN. I love it OMG. Coherent response later, I'm fangirling!
*heart*

Hahahahaha. You've put a big grin on my face. Glad you like it so much. (I am having a blast writing this!)

Your welcome. X3 I love all of your 11/River stuff. If just makes me so warm and happy inside....I should comment more. I need to start commenting more on things and not just reading them. P:

I love all of your 11/River stuff. If just makes me so warm and happy inside...
*hugs* I am secretly an enormous creampuff. I make the occasional foray into angst, but mostly I've got a pathological need to see characters happy. And River/Eleven are so much fun to write.

I should comment more. I need to start commenting more on things and not just reading them. P:
Oooo, I know. It's so tempting to get lazy. I've currently got a backup of about 15 fics I'm planning to comment on (been writing instead). I just remind myself how much I love even little three-word replies and try to do as much for other people.

I'm a huge creampuff too, you are not alone! River and 11 are a bunch of fun to write, I agree! I have a couple fics planned, I just haven't had time to write them because I have work. Ew, work. X<

I agree completely!

This is gorgeous! Bahaha, River and the Doctor as Amy's parents, that would either be the best or the worst childhood ever. I love the little details that draw us readers into the world (cinnamon and burn marks on the ceiling = love!) and (and this may just be something I picked up that isn't there at all) there seems to be something a little dark, with the end and the possibly-moving Augustus doll, lying just under the surface. Which is my absolutely favoritest thing ever!

I would very much like to see this continued. ;)

Big thanks!

Bahaha, River and the Doctor as Amy's parents, that would either be the best or the worst childhood ever.
I know, right? Personally, I think I'm slightly jealous.

there seems to be something a little dark, with the end and the possibly-moving Augustus doll, lying just under the surface.
Well, I don't know if I'd go all the way to dark, but definitely a bit concerning, a bit Twilight Zone ;-)

I would very much like to see this continued. ;)
I shall do my best to oblige!

There wasn't anything that would make this stick out for me as non-British (I was prepared for there to be some small things after the author's notes) and I simply sank my teeth in it during the reading; it was very delightful to read this and I could easily imagine this playing out in life as it read. It was glorious in its delightfulness and the smaller details really helped sell it - such as River tossing a letter because they didn't get her name right.

There was a nice level of 'something's not right' when Amy thought she could see her doll nodding back. When reading this, it made me ask 'what's going on?' and I like when small details in a story make me do that.

Thanks for reading and the feedback!

There wasn't anything that would make this stick out for me as non-British (I was prepared for there to be some small things after the author's notes)
That's good to hear. Well, the first commenter helped me make a number of small changes, so I'm glad they worked out.

I could easily imagine this playing out in life as it read. It was glorious in its delightfulness and the smaller details really helped sell it
Excellent. Thank you. The temptation is, I'll admit, just to write a bunch of cute domestic scenes for the three of them--I could probably go on like that for a long while. I think, however, I'm going to have to put a plot into this. *grrr*

There was a nice level of 'something's not right' when Amy thought she could see her doll nodding back. When reading this, it made me ask 'what's going on?' and I like when small details in a story make me do that.
Several people have remarked on that. I wrote it, I'll admit, as a throwaway bit, but now y'all have gotten me thinking about it and it's giving me ideas. I'm trying to decide how I want to go about writing/posting this. I think it's going to become quite complex, I sort of want the freedom to go back and change things whenever I want, to push things around. I'm not sure the standard posting in sections as you go along is going to work. But on the other hand, I like the feedback and have already gotten a bunch of good ideas based on the things people have asked--that is the advantage of writing things on the intenet.

Ok, sorry, rambling to myself here. Thank you for your thoughts!

Ok, sorry, rambling to myself here. Thank you for your thoughts!
Don’t worry about rambling; I don’t mind it at all! And you’re welcome!

Well, the first commenter helped me make a number of small changes, so I'm glad they worked out.
They worked out very well! I honestly couldn’t tell an American had written it.

I could probably go on like that for a long while. I think, however, I'm going to have to put a plot into this. *grrr*
... there isn’t already a plot? It felt as though there was!

Several people have remarked on that. I wrote it, I'll admit, as a throwaway bit, but now y'all have gotten me thinking about it and it's giving me ideas.
Maybe this was just me but that small throwaway? It seemed to be an indication that something was part of the Plot for the story.

I'm not sure the standard posting in sections as you go along is going to work. But on the other hand, I like the feedback and have already gotten a bunch of good ideas based on the things people have asked--that is the advantage of writing things on the intenet.
Myself, I prefer to work on things and then post them, making sure I have it finished first in case I want to fiddle with things and twist them about before I post it. But, too, I acknowledge that’s a way that works best for myself.

Couldn’t there be some kind of compromise between the two? Maybe have someone beta it for you? Or a couple people, to get a few different ideas?

I just read this to a friend who's disappointed with it.

Why?

The disappointment stems from it ending and there being no more! They're very much waiting for the next part.

=) Say thank you to your friend for me! (And thank you for reccing me!)

(psst: James Bond movie night over here.)

I'll let them know and you're welcome; I knew they'd like it due to how it feels very Doctor Who!

And thanks for the link!

... there isn’t already a plot? It felt as though there was!
Ok, there are suggestions at a plot. It's the making the plot go somewhere that daunts.

Myself, I prefer to work on things and then post them, making sure I have it finished first in case I want to fiddle with things and twist them about before I post it. But, too, I acknowledge that’s a way that works best for myself.
Well, that's how I usually work, and I am a bit of a perfectionist, but I've been trying to train myself to be more flexible with my writing.

Couldn’t there be some kind of compromise between the two? Maybe have someone beta it for you? Or a couple people, to get a few different ideas?
Good suggestions. I might yet do that. For the moment, I've settled on just posting the bits I work on to my own journal and letting anyone on my flist who wants to have a go at them do so.

For the moment, I've settled on just posting the bits I work on to my own journal and letting anyone on my flist who wants to have a go at them do so.
Good luck! I look forward to reading any part!

Oh, just brilliant! I loved it from the moment Amy woke up; how she's so used to the crazy contraptions and the bantering. I really hope you're going to continue this!

Thank you so much! My brain is actively churning away at it--hopefully I'll have more to show soon.

I randomly ventured into your LJ half an hour ago and very glad I did (hope you don't mind ...)

This is fantastic! Really, really funny. I can visualise the scene, especially the clutter and Amy's reaction to it. The dialogue was spot on how I imagine the three of them to interact. Loved the part where River is sifting through letters and scrapping something from the bank for not getting her name right! Please tell me there's plenty more chapters to come!

I randomly ventured into your LJ half an hour ago and very glad I did (hope you don't mind ...)
Not at all! Welcome. And thanks for the comment!

Please tell me there's plenty more chapters to come!
That's the plan. In my head, it's gotten pretty ambitious and a bit trippy. On paper, well, they all watch some James Bond, which is good too ;-)

Hehe, I read the James Bond scene too!

Plot bunnies have a tendency to suddenly become ambitious and needy ... but it's a fun idea so roll with it.

i really need t know what happens next
very very good plot bunny

Thanks for commenting!

very very good plot bunny
Isn't it, though? I am in my prompter's debt.

(I've got a few more scenes I'm working on here if you're interested, but they are a bit WIP.)

Okay, so I just commented on ’Waters’ saying it made me feel weird – and I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea to read this after looking at what prompt it was for, instead of taking a break and making some nice balancing tea or something… I started to giggle uncontrollably at the fire-extinguisher bit, and then I sort of couldn’t stop.
(Also ‘Woah, nelly’ is a MUCH too funny expression.)

Oh, that last paragraph – that’s teasing, that is.

Anyway, I’ll have to re-read it when I have had that tea, but this is brilliant. It’s like a fairytale and dream-like and a bit mad and interlaced with delicious mystery… absolutely amazing.

I ~~envy~~ am so in awe of your ability to write humour, angst, drama and poetry so incredibly well. <3

Thank you for such a lovely comment!

I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea to read this after looking at what prompt it was for, instead of taking a break and making some nice balancing tea or something…
Well, Moffat will move us from "if something can be remembered, it can be brought back" to "does it ever bother you, Amy, that your life doesn't make any sense?" to a cyber arm attack to "look at me, I'm a target!" all within the span of a minute, and I think that has a huge amount to do with why that last line is so hysterical: all the tension of the last scene is suddenly dissipated and the sense of release is double what it would have been otherwise, so . . . no, I think it was an excellent choice to jump from that fic to this one :-)

Also ‘Woah, nelly’ is a MUCH too funny expression.
It is ridiculously old fashioned, and therefore it had to go in Eleven's mouth.

Oh, that last paragraph – that’s teasing, that is.
Yes, yes it is ;-)

I’ll have to re-read it when I have had that tea
Actually, tea sounds really good. I might get some myself. Pity it's ninety degrees out.

It’s like a fairytale and dream-like and a bit mad and interlaced with delicious mystery… absolutely amazing.
I think this is my chance to be Roald Dahl; it's a real treat to write!

I ~~envy~~ am so in awe of your ability to write humour, angst, drama and poetry so incredibly well. <3
You are very kind. Honestly, I have to change it up; I get burnt out in one mode. And they all pretty much boil down to getting the rhythms right anyway.

I think that has a huge amount to do with why that last line is so hysterical: all the tension of the last scene is suddenly dissipated and the sense of release is double what it would have been otherwise, so . . . no, I think it was an excellent choice to jump from that fic to this one :-)
I so didn’t think about that – you’re always so good at pointing out these things that seem obvious as soon as I read them. :) The more I think about it, the more excellent a choice it seems. Not least since there was the beautiful poetic River/Doctor-ness from ‘Waters’ echoing through this piece, “domestic” as it was. (Hello, layers!)

It is ridiculously old fashioned, and therefore it had to go in Eleven's mouth.

It’s so funny in context (‘Fire?! Whoa, nelly!’), and I heard it in the most ridiculous posh English accent.

Pity it's ninety degrees out.
Ice tea?

I think this is my chance to be Roald Dahl; it's a real treat to write!
I tried so hard to remember which book this fic reminded me of, and it might have been one of Roald Dahl’s, actually. ‘Matilda’, maybe? If I’m not getting them confused.

And they all pretty much boil down to getting the rhythms right anyway.
You make it sound so easy. :) No, but you’re right, again, of course.

I so didn’t think about that
It took me a long time to realize it myself, but I make a study of Moffat. I find it's worth pinning down exactly how he does what he does. Often the answers are surprising in their simplicity.

Not least since there was the beautiful poetic River/Doctor-ness from ‘Waters’ echoing through this piece, “domestic” as it was.
Ooo . . . lovely. Must remember this effect for future use.

Ice tea?
Takes time to make, sadly. I might rustle up a pitcher to have around though.

‘Matilda’, maybe? If I’m not getting them confused.
I think most of them have a very similar feel to them, but Matilda is my absolute favorite! It's the one with the girl who can move things with her mind.

You make it sound so easy. :)
To the contrary, it's the hardest part. Sometimes I feel like it's all I think about ;-)

Ooo . . . lovely. Must remember this effect for future use.
I would be very happy if you did. ;)

It's the one with the girl who can move things with her mind.
Yeah, might have been ‘Matilda’, then, with the crazy family-vibe and all. (My favourite was ‘The Witches’, and that’s definitely not the one I was thinking about… unless you suddenly reveal River is wearing a wig.)

To the contrary, it's the hardest part. Sometimes I feel like it's all I think about ;-)
The effort is definitely appreciated, though.

OH, nice. I don't have a lot to offer in concrit considering the above comments, but I want to tell you that this is absolutely hilarious. River and the Doctor are such atrocious parents, it's just perfect.

Thanks! Well, I think 'atrocious' might be in the eye of the beholder. 'Scattered,' certainly, but for myself, I think I'm a bit jealous of Amy ;-)

Well, I kind of meant atrocious as opposed to being the "good, conventional parents of society", not that I actually think they are that way. Sorry, I didn't say it the way I meant it :)

I, for one, would love to have the Doctor for a dad. Okay, maybe not all the Doctors. I think Nine would have been a great father if not for all the survivor's guilt, and Eleven would be the most fun dad ever. Crap, now I'm kind of making myself cry by comparing them to my actual dad who is a deadbeat and left, and he can't even blame it on the Tardis.

Although, I wouldn't want River for my mom because 1. I love my mom and 2. I have a crush on River. :)

How did this get by my notice the first time? Gah. Either way, I'm so happy I've had the opportunity to read it now. It feels very back-to-front with what we know now re:S6, but if anything, that's part of the reason that I *LOVE* it. It's very wibbly-wobbly and transcendental about time and our roles with each other. And of course, I just ADORED your River/Doctor banter. Especially the bit where River teases the Doctor that he's the 'current resident'. And and and! I love that this really captures how whimsical River is, too. We get that a lot for the Doctor in his fics, the fact that he interacts with the world like his actions have an alien accent, but River often plays the straight-man to that, if a slightly violent straight-man. But here, both River and the Doctor feel like parents out of a modern remake of a Dr. Seuss book. AS THEY SHOULD. I love it. Great piece.

Ooo, unexpected fic. It's like finding money in your jeans pocket <3

I'm glad you enjoy this so much, even with the season six revelations, and thank you very much for the kind words : ) It's funny, but I think I actually adjusted relatively quickly to the idea of River as Rory and Amy's daughter (just that part of it, not the rest) because of my work on this fic: they've all been "family" quite strongly in my head for a long time (to an extent that I found it really hard to read Eleven/Amy or Amy/River), so that when I found out they really were all family . . . apparently who was parent to who didn't matter nearly as much as the simple fact of being related. The great family Pond has been a reality for me for a long while.

That's an interesting point about River as the straight man. I suppose she is the "practical" one, though I'll admit I usually write her as the one doing the verbal poking, to which the Doctor is the straight man ; ) But, then, that's what makes the dynamic in their relationship so rich: there are so many ways in which you can see it both this way and that way, and they all dance back and forth. But absolutely, River is an odd one in her own way just as much as the Doctor, and I do wish fic would play with that more often. So happy you enjoyed all the banter and whimsey--definitely where I lot of my enjoyment in writing this came from!

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FIC: Substitute (1/?)

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