Donna added her newly acquired clothes to her already overflowing closet and returned to the console. "So…where to, Time Lady?" the Time Lord asked.

"Would you mind just staying in and having a movie night, Doctor? With everything that's happened the past few weeks, I could use a relaxing night."

"That sounds fantastic. Allonsy! To the couch!" He shouted. "No, wait, to the kitchen! We need popcorn." Donna could only shake her head and smile.

"Care to pick a movie out before rushing to action, Timeboy?"

"That would be a good idea. What are you in the mood for? Action, romance, comedy?"

"Something light hearted would be nice. Let's go with a comedy," she advised.

"You read my mind. Hmm. How about a 25th century remake of Much Ado About Nothing? The main couple, Benedick and Beatrice, are portrayed by Daleks, not harmful ones. Since they don't want to admit they love each other, the director insisted on satirizing the lack of emotion-"

"Oi, stop blabbering, you'll ruin the plot," Donna called back to him as she set up the television. They popped in the movie and sat down on their usual spots on the couch: Donna with her legs curled up under her on the left, the Doctor sitting a bit slumped down in the middle with his arms stretched out and resting on the back of the sofa. Over the course of the movie, a series of minor shifts occurred-a wriggle here, a scooch there-and the couch suddenly gained a lot of empty space.

"You alright?" the Doctor asked Donna as she used his chest as a pillow.

"Yep. Thanks." The movie proved to be hilarious; listening to Daleks wax poetically about true love was an experience. As the plot progressed, though, Donna noticed something odd: The Doctor was staying remarkably still. After what had happened earlier, she'd expected the Time Lord would see the movie as little more than an excuse to continue their short lived fun. "Maybe he's just tired."

"Definitely not. He could run a marathon and still be more peppy than a cheerleader."

"He finally learned self control?"

She snorted. "Good one." There had been more than a few times when Donna's emergency supply of dark chocolate had gone missing, and it always seemed that, when she couldn't find it, the Doctor was making himself a cup of hot chocolate.

"Doctor?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm curious…did being John Smith change you at all? Like, does pretending to be him affect your behavior much?"

He shook his head. "Nah, not that I can tell. Why?"

She hesitated. There wasn't really a nice way to say this. "Well, you seem less…grabby."

That got his attention. "Grabby? Me!?" His eyes nearly popped out of his head. He turned his nose up at Donna, half pretending to be gravely insulted. "Hmph. Give an Earth girl a hug every once in a while, suddenly you're grabby."

Donna sat up, eyes flashing. "Oh, you gave me a LOT more than the occasional friendly hug, Timeboy."

"What, it's my fault I'm a Time Lord? We're like Italians, Donna, we talk with our hands! Can't blame me for my nature, can you?"

"You talk with your hands?" she repeated, hands on her hips. "Want to know what your hands are saying? Most of the time it was something like, 'Oh, let's cop a feel off Donna, she won't notice a little squeeze here or a pinch there.'"

He ran the offenders through his hair. "Come on, I only put my hands on you to get you out of harm's way, you know that! I'm not likely to notice exactly where I put them when I'm more worried about not getting us killed by some alien."

Her temper flared. "Oh, so they just wander to wherever they like on their own, do they?"

He slid back away from her on the couch and put his hands in his pockets. Arguing with Donna was a very bad idea, a very not good idea…why did he have to like those ideas so much? "It's not entirely my fault. Like you don't drive me mad, making me want to get my hands on you once in a while!"

She cocked her head and stared, mouth agape. "ME?! What the bloody hell do I do? And I want specifics, Spaceman!"

He gestured hopelessly at her face. "That…that thing you do, whenever you pull your hair back."

She whipped her head forward, leaned over, shook her hair out, and then straightened up, her fingers still running through her fiery mane. "What, that?"

He gawked. "Yes, EXACTLY, all of that!"

"I'm just putting my hair in a ponytail, dumbo, I don't see what you're so worked up about!"

Confusion creased his eyebrows. How did she NOT get it? "It's…everything!" he cried. God, she makes you an inarticulate fool. "The way you arch your back out, how your long neck's there just begging to be kissed, the sight of you playing with your hair…"

"Spaceman picks up on details. That is good, that is VERY good," a rather inappropriate part of her brain breathed in delight. "And to think, he gets that flustered over you flipping your hair back…oh, teasing him will be…" Donna let out a contented sigh as significantly more lustful thoughts started swirling in her head.

"So, Doctor," she purred. The two were standing in the middle of the living room. She took a step forward, he a step back. Repeat. She got dangerously close "What else is it about me that drives you up a wall? Spare no details, please."

"The way you…erm…bite your lower lip whenever you're trying to come up with a way to fix a problem," he whispered into her ear. "It's…ridiculously distracting, really, for something so tiny."

"You mean this?" She batted her eyes and slid her teeth over the bottom left corner of her mouth.

"Yes, that," he gasped. And, out of nowhere, he regained his composure, staring down the redhead. "Right. You've had your fun, time for mine. Donna Noble, I'm going to teach you a new game."

"Oh, what kind? Board game, card game?" Looking for all the world like an "innocent" schoolgirl. The one who wears her uniform skirt a bit too short, the one who flaunts her curves in hip hugging jeans and tank tops on dress down days.

"Neither. It's called 'Hands.' Only has one rule. You can't put your hands on the other person who's in the room, no matter how much you want to, no matter what they do to you. It can be more difficult than you think."

Donna leaned close to him. "I think I'd like a demonstration, if you wouldn't mind."

"Sure." He kissed her softly, for hardly more than a second.

She pouted. "That hardly seems like a challenging game to me, Doctor."

"Really?" Another soft kiss started, then lengthened. He tilted his head. She went with it. Slowly, he slid his tongue into her accepting mouth. The promise of forever they'd so sweetly given to each other in earlier kisses was now masked by carnal desire. A kind of desire that Donna had thought, up til then, was enjoyed only by teenagers getting it on in the dead of night in the backseat of their parents' cars. "Oh my God. Lance…no, human men have NOTHING on this!" she moaned. When the bloody fuck did making out get so steamy?

"K, maybe you have a point," she gasped, having run out of breath. "Can we…"

"Keep playing…"

"Somewhere else?" The two reached out to clasp hands and then drew back. "I'm not losing that easily to you," the Doctor grinned.

She'd regained enough oxygen to scoff. "Bitch, please! You'll crack like an egg."

And so, with the movie quite forgotten, they fairly ran off to the Doctor's bedroom, eager to continue playing the new game.