Author: edithmatilda, co-written with nostalgia
Rating: Story pre-dates the site change that defaulted all the ratings to "All Ages"; contains some profanity.
Word count: 969
Author's summary: The Doctor, Fitz and Anji play nicely together. Co-written with nostalgia the Sun Killer. (Alternatively: "There's, like, a game. And it all goes horribly wrong from there. This is co-written with Edithmatilda. She eats souls.")
Characters/pairings: Fitz, Anji, the Doctor (Eighth)
Warnings: Some profanity, the slightest oblique hint of meta, irreconcilable economic theories
Recced because: Bored Game of Death does exactly what it says on the tin: Fitz, Anji, and the Doctor sit down to play a nice board game with each other. But as we all know, the greatest perils of travelling on the TARDIS don't require setting foot outside it.
Crackfics—or cracky humor fics—are a dime a dozen in this fandom. Hell, really good crackfics are all over the place, even; we're a productive fandom and the source material is made for it. But this one retains a very special place in my fannish heart, and it's not just because it made me cry with laughing the first time I read it. It's because it pulls off even the sharpest of its humor with real affection, and because the characters just work.
The characters are so well drawn, in fact, that you can probably read this and enjoy it if your only exposure to Eight is the TVM—it worked for me, when I first read it years ago. And it made me realize that this was a TARDIS team I had to try.
But I really doubt I can give a better rec than an opening excerpt, so without further ado:
Anji was winning. Anji was winning by far more than seemed feasible. She had all the pink ones, the yellow ones, the red ones, the light blue ones… she had four hotels on Mayfair.
Anji was an utter bitch.
“I bet you voted for Thatcher,” said Fitz, viciously.
“I wasn’t old enough. Doctor, you’ll have to sell something.”
“Because you’ve got no money and I own that.”
“Oh.” The Doctor looked down at his own pathetic pile of cards. “Can’t I just owe you it until I pass go?”
“No. I’ll buy a station off you.”
Fitz started at the sheer audacity of this suggestion. But he knew better than to say anything. This couldn’t end painlessly, it just couldn’t.