Title: A Noble Death

Date: 11th August 2008

Author: Jon C. (The Lurking Writer)

Disclaimer: Bearing in mind the fact that I'm less than half the age of the television show, does anyone really think I'd have let Series 4 end the way it did? I do not own Doctor Who, nor am I (sadly) one of its current writers. No profit is being made on this, blah blah blah…

Summary: The author did it, in the bookstore, with the hardback…

Rating: K / K+ (Spoilers for Series 4; also, implied character demise, as if the title didn't give it all away)

Author's Note(s): Slightly too long to be a drabble but still too short to be much of anything else. This simply popped fully formed into my mind whilst I was eating lunch today and it positively begged to be written.

Oh, and there's a quote or two from Series 4 in the mix somewhere. See if you can spot them.

And finally, please don't hate me – honestly, I'm rather fond of Donna's character and I really didn't like the way her story arc was concluded. One of the best companions as far as I'm concerned (up there with Ace, Romana, Sarah Jane, K-9, Jack, and Rose). This may be followed up by a slightly more AU (though possibly not) sequel of sorts.

Constructive criticism or merely opinions will be gladly accepted though I'd appreciate no overt flaming… leave that to the pyromaniacs if you please.

In the end it wasn't some almighty revelation that triggered Donna's neural implosion. She'd somehow miraculously endured numerous mentions of the words 'Doctor', 'alien invasion', 'the whole planet moved', 'Daleks', 'the bees are still disappearing', 'there's something on your back', and uncountable other phrases that should have released her memories and killed her as an afterthought.

Even sightings of a freakishly skinny man with great hair talking to her Gramps of all people and that funny blue box that seemed to crop up everywhere she looked were simply met with blatant dismissal.

At the last moment, though, what really caused Donna's demise was quite simply an innocuous collection of words that caught her eye as she signed her autograph in her first novel.

"What's your name, love?"

"Jack."

Nice, easy name, she thought. With a flourish she'd picked up somewhere along the line, she lifted the pen and prepared to hand the book over until she really looked at the pages before her. The title, something she'd heard once but couldn't remember when or where, simply read:

A Journal Of Impossible Things

But, on the page to its left, the one that always held legal requirements and sundry other details that Donna didn't much care about, three simple words immediately lodged themselves in her mind, loosening the whatever-it-was that held her precious memories and the golden flame of someone else's consciousness in darkness. Three simple words that leapt out at her: Copyright Donna Noble.

Rainbow sparks and a burning pain filled her to bursting as she remembered everything all at once—memories both hers and not, feelings both young and ancient. A brief flicker of Agatha Christie commenting to her after the Vespiform sank beneath the lake all those decades and months ago, "Death comes as the end and justice is served…"

And as she collapsed into the arms of the rather attractive American she'd signed the book for, a smile graced her face one last time.

"You've got to be kidding me… Hello, Captain…"

—Finis—

(Sort of…)