Title: Antigravity
Characters: Donna, the Doctor

Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The characters belong to the BBC - no infringement is intended.
Summary: Written for the prompt: Anti-gravity restaurant. With bibs. (Midnight reference). Just a bit of fluff.

The doors of the Tardis closed behind them, and the Doctor sprinted for the console. He started madly flipping switches and setting coordinates as Donna leaned against one of the pillars. He suddenly stopped and looked at her, stricken.

"I promised you dinner at the antigravity restaurant!"

"So you did, but I'd just as soon get out of here, if it's all the same to you."

He ran his hand over his hair, mussing it more than usual. Donna stepped closer, took his arm. "Surely there's more than one such restaurant in the whole universe?"

"Of course - you're brilliant! I know a much better one! And we can still be there in time for dinner." And he was back to running madly around the console. Donna took refuge on the jumpseat, trying to stay out of the way.

"So long as there are bibs. I don't want a repeat of last time. That dress was ruined!"

"Oh yes, bibs. And a wonderful band, too, as I recall."

"Oh, is there dancing? I'll just go change--" and she was off to her room, leaving the Doctor wondering if he had just inadvertently agreed to dance. When she emerged from her room in a beautiful, flowing, green dress, he decided that might not be so bad.

The host at the restaurant apologized. "I'm sorry, there's a rather large party taking up much of the restaurant. I can find you a little table in the back, though, if you don't mind?"

The Doctor looked around interestedly. "A party? Wonderful!" Donna nudged him with her elbow. "Oh yes, that table will be fine. And we'll be needing bibs, if you please."

The host led them back to their table. Donna could see that the tables were suspended in individual bubbles. The chairs and tables were attached to the walls of the bubbles, but everything else floated around inside. She whispered to the Doctor, "How do they do that?" He whispered back, "It's actually artificial gravity everywhere else, just not in the bubbles." Donna suspected that it was much more complicated than that, but didn't press the issue.

Once they were settled at their own table, with drinks orders on the way, Donna took the chance to look around more closely. There was a dance floor, although at the moment it looked to be mostly empty. She could see the large party over on the other side of the restaurant, sitting at regular table, not in bubbles. She gathered from the balloons and signs that it was a retirement party for someone, and she mentioned this to the Doctor.

"Wonderful! Should we gatecrash it, d'you think?"

Donna hesitated. "They do look like they are having a good time. Maybe during the speeches? We could go up and say something nice about the person?"

The Doctor laughed, "Wouldn't they talk about that forever? 'D'you remember your retirement party? Who was that gorgeous redhead who said such lovely things about you?'" He paused, blushing. "Perhaps not. Might cause a riot."

Donna blushed, but laughed. "Maybe better not cause a scene."

Their drinks arrived, in clever little pouches, and the Doctor ordered dinner. Donna didn't recognize the dishes he ordered, but he usually did a fair job of choosing something she would like.

The watched the retirement festivities for a bit. "Do you think you'll have a retirement party one day?"

Donna laughed. "Me? I'm just a temp!" She paused, and sipped her drink. "I never could imagine staying somewhere long enough to retire after thirty years. Until now."

The Doctor looked at her. "So, you'll only give me thirty years?"

She reached across the table and put her hand over his. "I've told you before, and I'll tell you every time. Forever."

He took her hand, and stood up from the table. "May I have this dance?"

She stood, too, floating above the floor. All the answer he needed was in her smile.