The Thick of UNIT - Part XXXIII
It took thirty-three chapters and almost four years, but we finally have the wedding chapter. Thank you to everyone who has read this, whether you’ve been around since the beginning or just recently started, as it has been your continued support and readership that has kept this bizarre crackship AU going strong.
Chapter Index - FFN - AO3
You are cordially invited to the wedding of Mister Malcolm Petair Alexander Tucker and Ms. Katherine Mary Lethbridge-Stewart, 27 September 2014, their back garden. All unauthorized guests will be bollocked, with a subsequent mind-wipe. Dinner to follow. [Malcolm/Kate, a Malcolm Tucker working in UNIT AU]
Saturday morning and all Hell had broken loose.
The only thing that really could have made things worse was a thunderstorm parking itself over the house. A decent rain had passed over the night before, making it so that the lawn was part-marshland and the hired tent was going to need drying; Marcia’s flight in from Canada had been delayed due to engine failures and she wasn’t going to be on another plane into the UK until late that night due to overbookings; and, to top everything off with a steaming pile of con-shat-ulations, the wrong cake had arrived from the bakery, violently pink and covered in Peppa Pig figurines.
“…and it better be here in one hour or you are going to wish you had never woken up this morning!” Malcolm shouted as the deliverymen hauled the cake out of the garden. Once they were out of sight, he went to check on how the water was draining in the back, only making it halfway through the yard before his mobile rung.
“I’m not in the mood right now,” he warned.
“Mum just wants to know how things are coming or if we should be prepared to stall for time.” It was Fiona, fucking bless. She had Kate and Florence at the flat, the thing still being kept up by her and Lex because the former’s rich-cunt father gave her more than enough housing allowance to cover it. Shitty as Loris could be, the least Malcolm could give him was that he made sure the lass was financially well-off… then again, what was money to a man who made more in one shit than most people did in half a year?
“It looks like what’s left the sun’ll take care of,” he noted, taking a careful look at the miniature swamp. “I never realized we have a fucking off-season turlough back here; thought this was the wrong island for it.”
“Hasn’t done that in a few years; don’t know why it did so last night. The rain wasn’t that bad...”
“I’ll text in about an hour and let you know.”
“Gotcha.” The call ended and Malcolm shook his head—leave it till now for things to cock up that hadn’t in a while. He trudged back to the pile of folding chairs and began setting them up near the flowering trellis in the middle of the yard, only getting through three before he saw Kanda and Gordon come around the corner; Lex was almost deliberately lagging behind, talking with a man he’d never seen before.
“Reporting for duty,” Kanda announced as they approached. She then caught sight of the standing water in the back of the garden. “Is everything alright?”
“It’s draining, so we should be good,” he replied. An eyebrow raised and he motioned towards his niece. “Who’s that?”
“Her date,” Gordon deadpanned. As he watched Malcolm’s eyes nearly pop from their sockets in surprise, he shrugged noncommittally at Kanda. “Told you she hadn’t warned him.”
“Then Gordon and I are going to finish setting up the chairs while you go say hi,” Kanda said, giving the two of them an out. They retreated towards the pile of unfolded chairs, leaving Malcolm to begin approaching his niece. As he got closer, he tried to hear what they were talking about, only able to pick up that the man’s voice was rather deep.
‘Fuck, how old is this cumstain?’ he wondered. What was this lad? Ten years older than her? More than that? Lex had never dated anyone with more than two or three years’ difference, making the sight jarring. Showing up with a surprise date on her arm was one thing, but this was an extra level that made his Overprotective Uncle Mode kick in almost immediately. How many people were in his life before Lex? Fuck, try not to think about that. Could he already have kids? Teenaged kids? His stomach did a flip at the idea. He was tall too, nearly two whole fucking meters if he had things right, and looking like he even exercised once in a while—not a lot, ‘cause he was still a skinny fuck, but enough to be an accidental threat if things came to blows. Malcolm knew it was time to do his duty and see if this man-boy was worth keeping around.
At least he could say the lad had the decency to look scared shitless at the sight of the Bollocking Shark, coming in for the kill.
“There I was thinking that your date was Kanda,” Malcolm smirked, finally within earshot. Diffuse with a joke, then strike.
“No—Kanda’s here all on her own as your not-really-but-niece-in-spirit,” Lex replied. She then motioned towards her date, a blushing sort of nervousness plastered all over her face. “Uncle Malcolm, this is Euan; Euan, you’ve seen photos of Uncle Malc…”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” the younger man said. Malcolm took note of the lad as he shook his hand—a firm grip and a country brogue so strong that he nearly expected comically unintelligible Scots more suited to an End Game character to come out his mouth next—and let the strange man on his niece’s arm do the talking. “I’ve heard so much about you… good things though. Lex really admires you more like a father than an uncle.”
“Got to do something while hers wallows his life away in fucking Perth,” he nodded back. Lex then caught his eye, noticing that she was glaring at him crossly. “What? What did I do wrong this time?” His niece then pulled him away from her date, leaving him just out of earshot.
“You disapprove,” she hissed lowly. Fuck—caught; she knew him too fucking well. Did his eye twitch or something? “What is it?”
“I know love doesn’t ask for the middle-aged uncle’s permission first, but isn’t he a bit old for you?” he wondered.
“No, he’s not; there are thirteen years between us, but they don’t exactly feel as though they’re all there.” She rested her hands on her hips and gave her uncle the most irritated face she could muster. “It feels like I’m dating someone around my age. Honest.”
“So he’s not just trying to find a new mam for his kids or a bit of something else now that the divorce is final?”
“Never married and never had kids; he’s a clean slate.”
“Fuck, what’s wrong with him?” Malcolm recoiled as Lex punched his shoulder, surprised at the reaction. “What?! Even your da was married and divorced at his age, and that’s one of the most pathetic sacks I’ve ever had the misfortune of dealing with. It’s just a good thing you’re also a Tucker, or else you’d be damned by the genepool…”
“So his not getting up to anything because he hadn’t found the right person yet is reason to ask what’s ‘wrong with him’?”
“I’m just saying that usually the best men are snatched at least once by the time they’re forty—some of the worst too, but it’s the ones that can’t figure out how to fucking adjust themselves in public that don’t even get touched.”
“You’re a fucking idiot,” Lex scowled. “Your goddamned wedding day and you’re cocking up meeting my boyfriend…”
“Whoa, you only said he was your date! Where the fuck this boyfriend business come from?!”
“May I please interject here?” Euan asked as he cautiously approached. “I can still hear you, you know.”
“Right, man-lad; how’d you meet m’niece and why is it a good idea to date her? If I’m more like her father than an uncle, then give me the story.”
“We met at work—through the other Scottish expats—and we’ve felt close for a long while,” the younger man explained. Malcolm kept eye contact, though noticed how he reached towards Lex, with her grabbing his hand. He was silently asking for strength and she was giving it, which was more than he could say about other relationships she had been in… fuck, more than he could say about his first marriage if he was honest. The lad was bashful as he seemed to recall memories that were better left unshared. “Besides, being shut up in an office during a temporary alien takeover puts a couple things into perspective, and for me it was the fact I want to get to know Lex more than as just a colleague. Our first actual date was after that Zygon stuff and since then it’s felt so right that I don’t want to go back to what we were before.”
Malcolm’s glare softened and his shoulders relaxed at that, instantly drawing the parallel. He nodded as he felt blood rush up to his cheeks in embarrassment. “Yeah, I guess it’s not that much different than Kate and me.”
“See? Now was that so hard?” Lex exhaled in exasperation, finally able to breathe freely now that the chore was out of the way. “At least now you’ve got four extra sets of hands today instead of three; Euan can more than pull his weight.”
“What do you teach? Do you teach?”
“I’m a mid-level lecturer specializing in Europe from the Fall of Rome to, roughly, the English Civil War,” he explained. “It’s a bit broader than I’d like, but there’s so much that the time period influences in today’s world that it’s actually more difficult to stick to just those centuries in just Europe, and I—”
“Less talk, more setup; chop, chop,” Malcolm said, pointing at the shrinking stack of chairs. “I need these set up and covered before we get started on making sure the tent’s dry and the tables set up underneath, and that I want done before those cunts come back with the right cake.”
“What did they deliver? A bat mitzvah cake?”
“I wish it were that nice,” Malcolm snarked, adopting a generic English falsetto momentarily. With a snort to end it, he made Lex burst into hysteric laughter that only proved to confuse Euan and grab Gordon and Kanda’s attention. He patted Euan’s back and, going back to Weegie, said, “Having read her bedtime stories has its advantages—I can get her to laugh in six words or less.”
“You’re a scarily good mimic, sir,” Euan replied. He watched as Lex breathlessly went towards Kanda and Gordon to explain what she found so funny. “Um… can I ask you a question?”
“What?”
“Did you… erm… ever try mimicking like that while you were in politics? I mean, since you moved down here from Glasgow… to make things easier…?” The older man shook his head.
“Only on the phone in order to throw people off the scent; nothing more.” He looked the man-lad square in the eyes and made sure he was paying attention. “Don’t apologize for being Scottish, and certainly don’t be ashamed of whatever wee glen you were brought up in. Where was that?”
“…Darvel…”
“That in South Ayrshire?”
“East, actually.”
“Figures; it’s been a bit. Anyhow, I don’t care why you left or who you the fuck were leaving behind, because that place made you, and if you’re going to get anywhere with my Alexandra, it will behoove you to accept yourself—all of yourself—and don’t compromise.” He shrugged and glanced over at the nips, seeing that Lex could nearly breathe again. “As long as you’re not a cunting prick about it, there’s no harm.”
“Are you sure?”
“Aye.” Malcolm gave the man-lad a (genuinely!) friendly grin and began to walk away. “Now I meant it on the setup! It’s nearly nine and we need to be all set, with half the food prep, by the time the earliest birds arrive at eleven-thirty! And no flirting! Do that on your time, not mine!”
Seriously, what fucking good was he if he couldn’t have at least a bit of fun?
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
As he expected, the first arrivals showed up at eleven-thirty, nearly exact, despite the fact nothing was actually done. It was Jamie and his wife Jeanette, and they immediately began to help put hors d'oeuvres together as instincts kicked in and the three of them seamlessly began to move about the kitchen as they began to channel days long gone. By the time Cal and Veronica showed up closer to noon, Jamie had dropped enough pans to get all three men kicked out while “the competent and married” of their number could take over while “the competent one and the married two” could make final checks on the outdoors parts.
“Was this bit really a swamp when you woke up this morning?” Cal wondered, poking his toe against the now-dried grass. Malcolm scowled as he looked out at the horizon and the clouds looming northward.
“It was fucking dreadful,” he replied. “I was out here up to m’ankles, you two probably to your shins.”
“Alright, just because I look shorter than I normally do next to Jeannie today doesn’t mean I’ve fucking shrunk,” Jamie growled. “She’s the one in the heels from Hell that have her breathing the fucking stratosphere.”
“It’s what you get for marrying a woman taller than most fucking men,” Cal teased. “Veronica and I being the same height makes things that much easier to manage.”
“You bent tit—my lass is the perfect fucking height for a cuddle and you’re just jealous because I saw her in the school local first.”
“Lads, you’re both wee, randy shits that give me hope for a long and active marriage, alright?” Malcolm snarked. He glanced back towards the house, staring at where the kitchen was before shaking his head. “If it weren’t for the two of them, I wouldn’t be kicked out of my own kitchen—despite the fact I’ve got culinary competency falling out of my cunting arse—and you’d both still be eating curries and pies and munchie boxes back in that filthy flat, with only your own right hands and a single heated blanket for comfort.”
“Not that flat—we’d at the very least be in Ruchill,” Cal replied. “Now, tell me again: who’s that lad with your Lex again?” The men turned their attention to over by the patio, where the younger four were tacking streamers around the doors and windows, still having not changed into their nicer clothes.
“Another instructor at her university; seems harmless enough.”
“He looks like he could be fucking twice her age,” Jamie chimed in.
“He would be if she was closer to Fiona’s,” Malcolm shrugged. “She’s not a fresh face at uni anymore, lads. We’re the ones getting old.”
“Fuck that, mate; we’re fucking Highlanders.”
“You two might have Highlands in you, but I doubt for me,” Cal groused.
“Yeh wee fuck, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think yeh just missed the joke,” Jamie said, voice nearly grave. Malcolm shook his head and perked up at the sight not that far away: Benton and his wife coming around the drive, accompanied by two men that he could only fathom a guess were Mister and Other Mister Yates.
“Lads, behave; the Old Guard’s here. This is the closest we’re gonna get to Kate’s da attending and I don’t want either of you fucking this up.”
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
If there was anything in particular that Kate didn’t like, it was sitting around waiting.
Now granted, she was particularly good at it, being that it was partly how she was able to make her way up in the UNIT ranks—waiting for the precise moment to strike—but that did not mean that she enjoyed it by any stretch of the imagination. Now she was sitting at the breakfast bar at Malcolm’s old flat, in an elegant pale blue dress, drinking tea while listening to old stories about the man she was about to marry, as his mother regaled her and her daughter of tales that were likely lifted from a spy thriller.
“You really gave up being James Bond for Malcolm and Auntie Marcia?” Fiona marveled. She had, so far, been completely entranced by Florence’s stories, enamored by the sheer amount of thrills they contained. Her mother, on the other hand, was not nearly as impressed.
“I know history hasn’t been kind to the likes of us, but I highly doubt things were as exciting as you claim,” Kate deadpanned. She took another sip of tea and watched as her new mother-in-law scowled.
“It’s the fucking truth—I wouldn’t lie about being Special Ops like that,” Florence defended. “I was one of the absolute fucking best the Crown had at its disposal and don’t you forget it. Getting into reporting wasn’t easy either, but at least I wasn’t risking making me kids orphans quite as often.”
“Did you ever take them along?” Fiona asked, unfazed by the potential tension.
“A couple times; if it is frowned upon today, trust me in that it was severely fucking frowned upon back then. Most of the time if I had to take them though, it would be that Marcia took care of Mael while they stayed by me desk. I could start leaving them home alone together once Mael was about six, and by the time Marcia started uni, the lad was good enough to be home on his own for a couple hours.”
“What about before Malcolm? When it was just Auntie Marcia?”
“Our neighbors at the time, the Lewistons, were very understanding and would take her when me parents couldn’t; it was actually their boy that Marcia married, and I doubt that sorry sack has done anything of note since they split. If there is a God, he better be taking good fucking care of Jack and Bernice or else he’ll have another think coming by the time I get there.”
It was just then that Fiona’s mobile rang, cutting off all other conversation for the time being. “Yeah?” The teen paused. “Good; see you.” She then ended the call and grinned triumphantly. “That was Lex—Thunderbirds are go.”
“Everyone isn’t waiting on us, are they?” Kate asked, worried.
“Nah; we’re about halfway there, but it should be a full house by the time you get here if traffic is what I think it’ll be,” Fiona reported. “Let’s just get you ready to go.”
One final check of her dress and makeup and Kate was ushered out the flat and down to the underground carpark where Lex’s wee car was waiting for them. She was shoved into the back and Fiona happily got behind the wheel, exercising her newly-laminated driver’s license with the sort of zeal only one could have while rather young and reckless (or, in Florence’s case, old and still reckless).
Despite the semi-harrowing ride, relief came just as Fiona stopped at the double-mini roundabout that they needed to take to get onto their street. There was no one else on the road, allowing the young woman to idle where she would’ve otherwise been in the way.
“Last chance, Mum,” she said, looking at Kate via the rearview mirror. “If you don’t want to go through, I’m sure we’ve got Granny’s permission and the entire United Kingdom we could run to.”
“If you don’t go home and bring this car trip to an end now instead of prolonging it, I will make certain that your license is stripped and you put on a permanent do-not-drive list.”
“Good enough for me,” Florence shrugged.
Fiona then drove the car up to the front of the house, from which they could see that there were plenty of other vehicles parked along the side and on the lawn. Lex greeted them, allowing Florence to head into the back garden by herself and pulling Fiona and Kate into the library where there was a bouquet of flowers waiting and they were still cut off from everyone. The young women only left when Gordon came in, having recently changed into his UNIT military kit.
“Oh, Gordon, you look just like Granddad,” Kate sniffled, overcome by the sight of her son. Of course, they only looked vaguely alike, but it was the uniform—the way he held himself—that made her begin to tear up at the very sight of him.
“I’m sure he would’ve loved to be here—Gran too, if she could’ve been lucid enough.” He hugged her, holding tight. “I love you, Mum.”
“I love you too,” she replied. “Thank you for doing this for me.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Everyone’s seated, Lex is set with the camera, and Mister Benton’s ready to go!” Fiona whispered as she opened the door a crack. “How about you two?”
“Ready as we’ll ever be,” Kate said, grabbing the flowers. Her daughter gave her a thumbs-up and disappeared. A minute later and they could hear music—their cue was coming.
Kate and Gordon hooked arms and waited for their signal to begin making their way through the house. They heard the correct note and left the office, slowly heading towards the sitting room doors to keep in-time with the music.
Once they stepped outside, however, the crowd of guests and the accompanying decorations and fuss seemed to melt away. Kate saw Malcolm standing between Jamie and Benton and she instantly began to focus in on him and him alone. She had seen him in some rather nice suits before, and he had definitely seen her in nicer dresses, but when she locked eyes with him, she could see that not only was she the most beautiful person he had ever seen, he was the same for her. Before either could get their bearings, they were standing directly in front of one another, close enough to whisper quietly.
“You ready?” he asked.
“Only if you are.”
He smirked—of course they were.