This is my first attempt at writing, so please be kind.
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who.
Spoilers for Season 4 and The Impossible Plant/The Satan Pit
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The Doctor looked up as she shuffled into the room, her eyes still drowsy and the long locks of ginger hair mussed from lack of brushing. She was dressed in blue silk pajamas he had helped her into a couple of hours before.
"Morning." He said as he sauntered over to her and placed a warm cup of tea, that he had been holding for her, in her hands, "Did you sleep well?"
Her blue eyes shot a glare at him from over the rim of the mug, "You know I bloody did not." She replied as she swallowed a generous amount of the warm liquid, "With your singing I could hardly drift off for a moment."
Red blossomed on the Time Lord's cheeks as he conventionally stuffed his hands into his pockets, "Sorry 'bout that seemed I had too much to drink."
Donna groaned softly as she sat down at the table, last night's reminisce came back to her it had been fun at the time and she knew she was going to feel like hell in the morning, and she was not surprised to find that she did.
"I thought you said that alcohol didn't affect you." She muttered sipping the tea slowly.
The Doctor went back to the stove as he picked up the two plates piled high with breakfast, "I said that Earth alcohol didn't have the same effect, but Cardian wine is a little bit stronger."
She scoffed, "Stronger? Doctor, you were running all over the room singing 'The Rain in Spain", I actually had to start apologizing for you."
A grin broke out on his face, "I love that film." He said as he thought about Eliza Doolittle, before coming back to the conversation.
Donna ignored his commented, "I even had to say sorry to that octopus looking creature."
"Hey, that was the host!" The Doctor said as he began to walk over to the table.
She cocked her eyebrow, "Seriously?"
"Well, it was one hell of a party I'll tell you that. I didn't break anything on the way out did I?" He asked as he set the plate down in front of her before taking his own seat.
She looked down at the food, as sudden nausea swept through her, "No." She whispered looked up at him slowly, "No. Although you did insult the octopus guy's wife though, I had to rush out of there with you stumbling all over your feet."
The Doctor chewed his eggs, "Who was his wife?" His mind trying to remember the night before.
Donna tried not to pay any attention to the masticated egg in his mouth as she answered, "She was the one that looked like a lamp." She bit into a piece of toast, "I figured that out when she asked me if I wanted anything to drink. Scared me half to death."
"What did I say to her?" He inquired, almost afraid of the answer.
She looked him in the eyes, "You tilted her…shade, I guess that's what it was, back and said 'do I turn you on?'"
"Oh dear."
"Yeah, you even wagged your eyebrows."
The Doctor shook his head, "Oops."
"I don't think that we'll be invited there ever again." Donna replied as she choked down the dry bread.
He shrugged, "It was still fun though, right?"
"Oh, yeah, barrels of laughter." Donna closed her eyes as she felt another wave of dizziness course through her.
The Doctor watched her intently, "Are you okay?" He reached his hand over and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
She nodded, "I'm fine, and I guess I'll going to be nursing this head for a while. And how come you seem over the moon this morning?" She asked looking at him with a small bit of hatred.
Draining his juice he looked at her for a second, "Oh, the TARDIS cures hangovers faster than you can say 'Raxacoricofallapatorius'."
Donna blinked soundlessly as she shook her head, "I can't even say that once." She told him honestly.
He opened his mouth.
"And, no, I'm not going to try."
The Doctor laughed quietly as he scooped another forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth, "Don't be too upset, very few can."
"So can you make me better or not?" Donna asked him with a huff.
"Course, but I'd advise you to eat something more than just toast. Trust me." He added as he caught a grimace from her lips.
Cutting into a piece waffle with her fork she stuffed into her mouth, "There happy now?" She asked.
"Very."
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The night air was rather cool for being so late in the month.
Drunken laughter sounded from a nearby club, the Saturday night was busy with the young crowd.
Angelica Hughes stood in an empty alleyway, her body trembling with uncontrollable fear as she stared up at the man dressed in black; his green eyes gazed down at her. She trembled as one of his hands went around her tiny throat, but there was nothing she could do, her feet wouldn't leave the spot on the asphalt.
"Please." She begged him gently.
"What's your name?" He asked her calmly, his voice impassive, yet strangely hypnotic.
A tear fell from her eye and rolled down her cheek, "Angelica." She said automatically as if that would be enough to let her go.
He nodded as his thumb stroked the skin under her chin, "Angel-ica. Pretty."
"What are you going to do to me?" She asked, as she writhed slowly in his grasp, looking for any way to escape.
He was silent.
"I just want to go home." She told him, her heart thumping frantically within her.
He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead, moving his head down to her ear he whispered, "Do you believe in Heaven, Angelica?"
Gasping out a small sob, she nodded.
The man nodded, pulling away from her, "That's a good girl."
With a quick fluid motion, his other hand came up and a sharp 'CRACK' echoed off the bricks walls of the alley.
The young girl's body fell to the warm pavement below and gathered at the man's feet.
He knelt down to her and caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. Her silent eyes staring up into the star clad sky, "You have no idea how much this means to me."
The man in the black suit lifted Angelica's head from off the ground, her broken neck cupped in his hands; he gently kissed her again, this time on her lips.
He let out a strained groan and fell to the ground, dead.
Angelica Hughes stood shakily on her red stilettos, and her hands quickly passed over the material, as she straightened the dress she wore. Running her hands through her golden hair, she stretched her neck, feeling the bones realign themselves and fuse back together again.
Her dazzling blue eyes looked down at the man now silent at her feet; sniffing briefly she glanced up and down the alley before making her way out of the darkness and into the nightlife of the London city.
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