So I took a small hiatus from my writer's block to jot down this. Still stuck on everything else, though. I hope you enjoy!
-JustStandingHere
#
He's always there, no matter what. Ever year, for as long as she can remember, she's been visited by the same man.
When Donna first meets him, she's just turned six years old. Her mother—no, Sylvia, because obviously mothers never act this way. Charlotte Mackenzie's mother doesn't, anyway. Charlotte Mackenzie's mum took her to Paris for her birthday. Sylvia won't even take her Strathclyde. So, Donna figures, if no one else is going to do it for her, she might as well do it for herself. She packs up everything in a ratty pink suitcase, which used to be her aunt's, and sneaks out while her mum and dad are busy making her dinner. It smells delicious, and she thinks about bringing some along for the ride, but decides against it.
The bus station is a ten minute's walk away, which would be simple for anyone if it weren't for the horrid April weather. However, Donna is not just anyone. She marches proudly through the pouring rain in her red dress and paper birthday crown, which her teacher had given to her earlier that day. When he arrives at the station, she's sopping wet with a suitcase that has a shirt sleeve hanging out the side. But this does not faze her. She continues her stroll through the stop until she's standing in the line to get on board. When she's five people away from the money counter, she gathers all her money in her hands and carries it close to her.
Once she's in front of the driver, she stands on her tiptoes and lets the money spill from her hands and into the woman's lap. The driver frowns and glances downward. Donna stares right back at her.
"Does this go to Strathclyde?" she asks.
"Oh, hello. Are you lost?" the lady asks, grinning uneasily.
"No," Donna answers. "I want to go to Strathclyde." She pauses. "Please."
The lady exhales deeply. "Yes, Strathclyde is my fifth stop. You meeting family there?"
"No."
The lady blinks, but Donna keeps staring at her. It lasts a good couple of moments, but the lady is the first one to give in. She eventually sighs and gathers the money up, counting it one by one before placing it back in her hands. "I'm sorry, that's not enough."
"But it has to be!" she protests. "I won that money from beating Timmy McDermott in a race, and he gave me all he got and his parents are loaded. That has to be enough."
"I'm sorry, but it isn't. Now why don't you take that money and go sit down over on one of those benches, alright sweetie? Then we can call your parents and get this sorted out."
"No!" Donna yells. "No, no, no! This isn't fair!"
"Please, if you could just sit down and—"
"I don't want to sit down, I want to go to Strathclyde!"
"Sweetie—"
"I'm not sweetie, I'm Donna Noble!"
The lady purses her lips before picking up the phone next to her seat and dialing two of the three suspected buttons. She's going to press the third one when—
"Ah, there you are!" a new, chipper voice pipes in. "Couldn't find you! You got me worried there for a moment."
Donna looks up, and there's a man that's appeared next to her out of thin air. He's tall, and thin. His brown hair hangs over one side of his hair, and although he's young he's got deep wrinkles in places people his age shouldn't. His tweed jacket has a jelly stain on it, and it's fairly fresh. All in all, he kind of reminds her of the willow tree at the park near her house: ancient, scarred, and magnetic.
The ticket woman frowns at him. "And who might you be?"
"John Noble, this little girl's uncle," the man answers. Which is weird, considering that the only uncle Donna has is Uncle Oscar, who's living with a man named Jeremy in Manchester. He pulls out a slip of black paper. "Here's my license, if you want any proof."
The woman squints before visibly relaxing. "Very well. Could you please take your niece away? She's holding up the line."
"And why is that?" he asks. He turns to Donna, but she doesn't speak.
"She doesn't have enough money for her ticket, sir," the woman answers. "She's two pounds short."
"Well that should be an easy problem to fix, eh?" He starts fishing through his pockets. "Easy peasy lemon squeazy!" He frowns. "Oh, I am never saying that again." He pulls out a wad of bills and places them on the desk. "Would that be enough?"
The woman's eyes bug. "Yes, that would be enough." She quickly rings up the ticket, much to the relief of everyone in line, and hands it to the man, who in turns hands it to Donna. She takes it silently.
"Good. Keep the change for yourself." He taps the top of the small girl's head. "Come along, Donna. You have a bus to catch."
She follows him, not saying a word. After all, he did pay for her ticket. And he doesn't look like the creepy, mustachioed men her mo—Sylvia—always warned her against. She follows him, pink bag in tow, as he leads her to her seat. He sits next to her, hands folded neatly in his lap, and looks around. The vehicle is silent with the exception of the warring rain and the squeak of the parking brake being taken off. Five minutes in, he looks around, whistling a silent tune, before turning his attention towards Donna again.
"Why won't you speak to me?" he asks.
Donna glances up at him before staring ahead again. "My mum told me not to talk to strangers."
"Ah," he says, nodding. "Well that would make sense. Lucky for you, I am not a stranger." He puts on finger up. "I have been told that I am strange, however."
She snorts. "Yeah. You gave a lady a blank piece of paper."
His eyes widen, before he starts smiling. "Donna Noble, you are brilliant."
She frowns, scrunching up her nose. "How do you know my name?"
"You were shouting it. And quite loudly, I may add."
She pauses. "Oh." She thinks a bit. "Why did you pay for me?"
"Because you wanted to go," the man answers. "And you want to be happy. I can't let people be denied happiness."
She looks away for a moment or two before looking back up at him. "Thank you."
"No need to thank me. I owe you more. Or I will, I guess."
"You're not making any sense."
"I know."
"Are you mad?"
"A little, yes. Does that frighten you?"
She shakes her head. "No. My mum's a little mad, I think. She always sings when she's baking. And my grandad's a lot of mad, but he's funny and nice and he can do this really silly dance. I think everyone's got a bit of mad in them, so it ain't frightening."
"Good. Remember that, Donna."
"Why?"
"Because a lot of people will tell you otherwise."
They talk like this, for the rest of the way. It's mostly about Donna's classmates, or about the man's attitude. The trip lasts a total of six hours, and half of it is spent asleep. Her soggy paper birthday crown falls off and she says that she doesn't want to throw it away, but also doesn't want to get her clothes wet. So the man simply stuffs the crown in his pocket, and it disappears inside his jacket like it wasn't even there in the first place.
The ride eventually comes to an end, and they exit the bus. Strathclyde is bright and sunny and the exact opposite of Chiswick, and Donna smiles so wide her face begins to hurt two minutes in. The man gives her two fifty pound notes and a smile before telling her the directions to a nearby inn where she can stay. He starts walking off, and she hurries to catch up with him.
"Mister!" he yells. "Mister, what do you think you're doing?"
He turns around, frowning. "I'm walking away. My bus is leaving."
She pouts. "Yeah, well it's rude to leave without saying goodbye, you know. It's proper manners, didn't your mum ever teach you that?"
"This won't be goodbye, though," the man says, and he continues walking. "But this'll be our secret, eh?"
Donna doesn't dare to follow him.
She stays in Strathclyde for a day or so, lying to the manager of the inn and saying that she's meeting family. She sleeps peacefully in her queen bed, which she has all to herself. She orders room service, and watches television shows all day. By the end, however, there are police in front of the inn and her parents are hugging her, saying that she shouldn't ever do that again and that she is grounded and that they love her so, so much. She claims to have gotten by on her own, keeping her promise with the man and not speaking a word about him.
It's probably the best birthday she's ever had.
#
He returns the next year, when she's turning seven She's having a party at the park which mostly contains family and a bunch of her friends, and the day is nice and sunny. The covered area is decorated in party favors and strung up lights. On the stairs there's a mountain of wrapping paper from all the presents she's gotten. She's got two new dresses, a pair of shoes, and a lot of Barbies. It's nothing compared to running away, but it's a close second.
Her mum's cleaning up the mess, along with the other adults, and her and the other kids play hide and go seek. She gets picked as it, which she states is unfair because she is, after all, the birthday girl. But they've already begun hiding once she's done talking, so she's plays her part anyways.
After ten minutes Donna still hasn't found anyone, and she's searched from the slide to the bushes, and she's on the verge of giving up. She retreats to the willow, thinking that if she pretends she's not interested for long enough, they'll come out and she'll catch them.
Another five minutes pass, and nothing happens. Now she's frustrated, and also slightly worried. Did they get kidnapped? Figures. That's what you get when you don't make hide and go seek easy for the birthday girl. Good riddance.
A twig snaps behind her, and she grins. She sneaks around the ancient tree, slowly and carefully, before jumping and out and yelling "Found you!" The person flails, tossing something into the air before clumsily catching it again and turning around.
Except the person isn't Barbara or Ellen or anybody she invited. It's him.
"Oh," he says, smiling and brushing himself off. "Hello."
"Oi, you!" Donna shouts, pointing. "You're the man from the bus!"
"Yes, I am the man from the bus."
"You left me in Strathclyde. Mum and dad found me. There was police and everything."
"Was there?" he asks.
She nods enthusiastically. "I was on the news!"
"Good for you! Always good to get a little fifteen minutes of fame, every once in a while." He polishes the thing in his hands with his coat sleeve, and it attracts Donna's attention. It's round and shiny, with little engravings written all over it.
"Wazzat?" she asks, pointing to it.
"This?" the man asks. "This is your birthday present. Seven, am I correct?" Donna nods. "Good. It's nice to know I'm not off all the time." He starts twisting the sphere, and it clicks with each rotation. "This is a holo-sphere, from the Second Passolian Empire. Very rare."
"What's it do?"
"It projects an image into the cornea of the eye and tricks the brain into forming the image as a reality rather than a virtually stimuli," the Doctor explains. Donna frowns at him. "Just give it moment." He twists it a little more. "Hawaiian beaches, peaceful mountainside, no, no." He clicks it one more time. "Aha! Here we go." He hits the sphere on the top, and suddenly the park is gone, and Donna is floating.
She's in space. Space.
She looks to her left, and the man is floating beside her. She starts to take a breath before realizing that you cannot breathe in space, and becomes furious. She hits the man and holds a hand to her throat, trying to hold in whatever air she can.
"Oh it's alright, none of it is real," he tells her. "You can breathe. See?" He inhales deeply, and lets it all out. "We haven't even left Earth."
"But we're in space," Donna protests. "That isn't Earth at all, dumbo."
He smiles. "You're seeing space. The Fourth Quadrant of the Elysium Galaxy, to be correct. And that, in front of you, is Tumbac Ulzim, as the Passolians call it. You humans would later name it Foraker's Nebula."
She looks out in front of her and almost topples over. In the massive expanse of blackness there's a web of purple and green stretching out across the stars. It moves lethargically and without hesitation, and inside of it Donna can see lights, suns and planets forming. And it's beautiful.
"Well?" the stranger prompts. "What do you think?"
"Beats a Barbie," she breathes out. She doesn't take her eyes off of the nebula.
"That's it? Just 'beats a barbie'?"
She turns to look at him. "Whaddaya want me to say?"
"That it looks astounding! That's its amazing! 'Wow, this is the best birthday present ever', those kinds of things!"
"Well I thought you already knew that!" she argues. "No use repeating the obvious, mister." She looks around. "My mum's probably worrying about me, and I've gotta finish my game of hide and go seek. Can we go back to Earth now?"
The man smiles. "One Earth, coming up." He presses the sphere again, and the nebula crumbles away into the bark of the willow tree again. "Did you have fun, Donna?"
"Yeah, of course," she tells him.
"Good. Now go. Your friends are all hiding in the tube by the sandbox. Which is not fair, seeing as the sandbox is always off limits. But I'm not one to judge." He frowns. "What are you still standing around for? Go!"
She starts to turn, but stops, and takes to two steps forward. "Wait. One more thing."
He's stuffing the sphere back inside his pocket, and it disappears inside like her crown the last time. "Hm? What is it, I'm on a bit of a schedule here." He grimaces. "For once."
"You've never told me your name," Donna points out. "We rode together in a bus for forever and you never once said your name."
He grimaces even more. "My name's a bit of a complicated thing. Call me the—no, no. You can't, never mind. Timelines and things. Stupid me." He hits himself the forehead. "Ah...um...call me...call me the Wizard! I've been a wizard before. Yeah. I'm the Wizard."
She squints at him before giving up. "Alright. Well, 'The Wizard'...thanks." And she runs off.
Her friends are all out of the tube, and they converge on her once she makes herself known. Her mother storms over.
"Donna, you can't run off like that!" she tells her.
"But I didn't!" she yells back. "I went behind the tree and the Wizard was there, and he showed me this hollow spear that took me to this purple web in space for my birthday."
Sylvia frowns. "Don't fib, Donna. You got your friends very worried, they were sweating in that tube for twenty minutes."
"The tube was off limits and I'm not fibbing! It actually happened, I swear!"
"I'm sure it did, but you can't go to space without a rocket, dearie," Sylvia says.
They clean up, go home, and Donna gets extra cake for dessert and an extended bedtime. Her father kisses her goodnight and tucks her in, and when he turns off the lights she curls around her covers.
"But I did go to space..."
#
On her ninth birthday, the Wizard appears when she's in the ball pit at Freddie's Funhouse. He wades through the colorful spheres and picks up a red one, pulling out a silver and gold stick with a green end. It lights up for a couple seconds before expanding, and he scans the stick with his eyes. "Traces of salmonella and...fascinating!" He shoves the stick back inside of his pocket. "When you exit this pit I would highly suggest washing your hands. Now, are you ready to—"
"Are you real?" Donna inquires.
"What?" the Wizard asks.
"Are you real?" Donna repeats. "Or are you just something from my imagination? Jamie McKimmon in my year has an imaginary friend and everyone calls him a loony." Her eyes widen. "I'm not a loony, am I?"
The Wizard says nothing, but instead takes a step closer and pinches her.
"Ow! What'd you do that for?"
"To prove that you aren't a loony," he answers. "Now would that hurt if I wasn't real?"
She looks down. "No."
"Exactly. So I'm real. I'm very, very real, in fact. There were times when I wasn't, but I am now. So don't let anyone tell you otherwise." Donna nods, but still keeps her head down. "Oh, buck up, Noble. I've got a tribble waiting in the claw crane to be picked up and I think he's getting impatient."
#
Year after year, the Wizard always arrives. When she's ten, he gives her a necklace with a crystal that's apparently from a galaxy that;s halfway across the universe. It's beauitful, and she wears it underneath her school uniform every day until she loses it at the coast. When she's eleven, he gives her the watch she's been looking at for weeks but hasn't been able to buy, and she keeps it on her and says she bought it with her own money and wears it until she grows tired of it two years later. On her twelfth birthday he pulls out the holo-sphere again, but this time they're on a spaceship viewing a planet get built from scratch.
He looks the same, all the time. She notices this with each passing year. The jam stain is still there, and gets progressively older every time but is still quite fresh anyways. The loose string on his jacket stays the same, as does the single hair on the top of his head that doesn't know which way to go. He's eternal, and never ages. And with every cycle of 365 days she begins to wonder if he's magic or if she is truly bonkers.
Some of the kids in her class do. When she talks about hi at first they think she's special, that she's got a guardian angel. But as Father Christmas begins to die and the Tooth Fairy starts to fade, he becomes less of a guardian angel to them and more of a disease, rotting her head. They make best to stay away from the crazy girl, and when Donna notices this she shuts up. At this point, friends are more important than herself, and she adapts quickly. She's always been able to adapt quickly.
When she's thirteen, her party is much smaller, since everyone in her year has moved on from class-wide celebrations and moved to close social groups. It's a sleepover, with her and three other girls. She sneaks out when everyone seems to be asleep and rushes out to the front yard, because she knows if he's inside there'll be trouble. She waits for twenty minutes, out in the rain, and he appears, apologizing that he's late but he had some things had to make sure were kept in order and all that. He throws her a pair of keys.
"Thirteen is the normal age that you lot start driving, isn't it?" the Wizard asks.
Donna grins. "You bet it is, Mister."
It's a hover buggie, of sorts. It takes her three times to get it started right and she almost crashes into Mrs. Fielding's front yard. And, sure, she's almost green afterwards, but all in all it's quite fun. She looks to the Wizard afterwards, who looks a bit too calm and content for someone who was just a car that flipped over three times in a row at one point. He says that he's used to it, and that she's a brilliant driver. She goes to bed, exhausted, only for her father to wake her and others up not a half an hour later.
On her fourteenth birthday, she has another sleepover. Only one girl, Barbara, shows up. And Donna knows that it's because their mums are good friends, and to not go would be an insult. The Wizard gives her three new pairs of shoes, all the ones she's wanted. Later, Nerys Peters would say that she probably stole them, because not even her mum could afford those. Donna holds her head up high and tells Nerys that it's not true, and says that for the rest of the year as each of her friends break off to be with other people.
One her fifteenth birthday, she invites everyone that she can from her year. The boy that she swaps notes with in chemistry, the girl that she next to in her literature class, so on and so forth. She tells her mum not to invite grandad over, because it'd be embarrassing, and sets up all the decorations herself at the park, underneath the gazebo. She's not music and streamers and everything and she waits for the first guests to arrive. Nobody shows up.
So, being Donna, she packs up her things and goes home, saying that everyone in her class are twits and they're all going to grow old and miserable. She retreats to her room and pulls out a newer, larger suitcase, and stuffs some clothes in there along with some money. She tells her mum that she's going out, and doesn't say anything more. It's a perfectly sunny day, which sickens her, because if she's going to be in a bad mood the weather should be as well. She drags herself down to the bus station and waits for the bus that will take her to Strathclyde.
She's been sitting on the bench for five minutes when the Wizard comes strolling down the pavement, tugging on his ridiculous bow tie and grinning like an absolute idiot.
"There you are! Couldn't find you for a bit there. What do I always say? Don't run off. And then you run off. I almost gave your father a heart attack trying to get through your front door." He rubs the back on his head. "He's got a helluva swing."
She looks up at him before returning to her previous slouch. "Yeah, well, I'm sorry to disappoint," she sneers.
His face contorts into concern. "No need to be so...mopey. It's your birthday, Donna! Birthdays are happy!"
She snorts. "Not this one." She looks down. "You know that people at school think I've gone mad? Over the years, they've grown more weary because about you. Or I used to. And at first, when I was little, they soaked it up. Kids believe that stuff. But it gets old. People gets old. And it's stupid." She starts laughing. "I might as well be. Mad, I mean. Look at me, I'm talking to a complete stranger."
The WIzard looks at her, offended. "Who said I was a stranger? I've known you all your life."
"Yeah, and you seem to know everything about it. Meanwhile, I don't even know the basic summary of yours."
"What are you talking about, you know loads of things about me!"
She stares at him head on. "Here's what I know, Mister Wizard: I know that you're not human, because even my mum's anti-wrinkle cream wouldn't be able to keep you that young. I know that you're smart, and are aware of it since I also know that you're a prick."
"Oi!"
"Shut it, you. But that's it...and your name, I guess. But even then, you told me to call you that. I don't know anything more. What's your hobbies? Where are you from? What do you do during the holidays?" She eyes him. "Why do you dress like a dumpy professor?"
He tugs on the lapels on his jacket and huffs. "I thought this was your birthday, not insult-me day."
"It's both."
He hesitates for a moment before dropping onto the bench and clasping his hands together. "Alright," he concedes. "I enjoy knitting, among other things. Travelling, collecting. I've been told that I'm good at football. I'm from a far-off place, where there were other not-humans like me."
"Were?" Donna repeats.
"Things happened. Very...bad things. But I can't really say much about it."
She raises an eyebrow. "And why's that?"
He glances at her nervously, eyes breaking from their youthful glaze and turning very, very old. "Got to make sure things stay in order. Otherwise...well. Otherwise more bad things could happen." He shifts slightly, and goes back to his more chipper demeanor. "For my holidays I go—I go anywhere I want to, really. Sometimes with family. Sometimes with friends. Sometimes I'm all by myself, but that doesn't matter." He leans back. "I like hats, and the color green. I don't like artichokes, or mean people. And I dress this way because I dress this way, shut up."
"You could've said that a bit slower. You talk like you're on a deadline."
"I am on a deadline," the Wizard explains. "That's why I'm here. I'm trying to make things better."
"So, what, you saw the little girl screaming at the bus driver and decided 'that one'?"
"No, I was looking for you. The screaming just helped. You're very special Donna Noble, I hope you know that."
She smirks. "Well of course I am, why wouldn't I be?"
He shakes in his head. "Because you think that you're a girl in Chiswick, and that's all you'll ever be. But you're not, Donna. You never have been. You are so, so much more."
She blinks, relaxing her face. "Yeah, well tell that to everyone who didn't come to my party tonight." She starts playing with her fingernails, trying not to look anything but passive. "Rotten lot, all of them. But..." She lets out a ragged breath. "You know. I was going to be there, looking like this, to rub it in all their faces and they never showed up! Talk about rude." She swallows a couple times before letting out another breath. "I'm fifteen. When I was little, I imagined that I'd be working towards my license with a boyfriend and all these friends and my only friend's a bloody wizard."
The Wizard turns to her, not hugging her or anything, but instead licking him lips as if he's going to say something. "I once had a granddaughter—"
"A granddaughter?" Donna reiterates, taking a moment to laugh a bit. "You barely look old enough to have a daughter."
"That's enough out of you," he says jokingly. "I'm trying to say something important here, so listen. I had a granddaughter, and so I remember times like this, when you're young. You think that this is it, that this is the end of the world, but it's not. Donna, it's not. I've been to the end of the world, and it isn't an empty birthday party. That's not to say it isn't important, because it is. These things don't end the world, but they do shape who you are. And they either do it in a good way or a bad way, depending on how you—" He pokes her in arm. "—handle them."
"Thank you, doctor," she says sarcastically. He flinches. "But I'm not in any need for a psychiatrist at the moment."
He fidgets a bit before standing up and pacing around, muttering something about birthdays and happiness and...her granddad? He paces for a couple more moments before stopping abruptly, both hands thrown into the air and brought back down together. He wrestles her suitcase out of her hands and unzips it, tossing clothes left and right before pulling out her Walkman and a scarf. "Perfect."
"What on earth do you think you're doing?" Donna asks, standing up and putting her hands on her hips.
He shoves the Walkman into her hands. "Put that on and press play."
"Why?"
"Just do it, before I change my mind and stop doing something stupid." She numbly puts the headphones on and starts listening on low volume, confused. The Wizard nods. "Good. Now close your eyes."
She does as she's told, and then her eyes are covered with soft wool. "You aren't kidnapping me, are you?"
"What? Of course not. I rarely kidnap." He puts both hands on her shoulders. "Alright, Donna. You ready?"
"No!"
"Excellent."
#
He guides her, jerking her from left to right and keeping her on edge for the entire journey until he has her stop, and she can smell fresh paint and sawdust and something...metallic. She asks where they are, and he tells her to hush, and she's beginning to worry that she's fallen prey to a sex offender.
"Do you do this a lot? Find young girls and take them away like this?" she asks jokingly, but also a bit seriously.
"Yes, but not in that way." There's a clicking sound. "Come along, Donna. Things to see."
She's guided inside a room, and goes around in a circle until she'd lead up a series of stairs, and then another stomach-aching series of twists and turns that end in an abrupt stop and the smell of freshly mowed grass. The scarf falls from her eyes and she's standing in front of a large expanse of forest, with everything ranging from evergreens to venus fly traps.
"Plants?" she asks, leaning forward and holding her arms out. "And that trouble and bumping...for plants?"
"I thought you might like it," the Wizard says.
"I like fancy purses and large dogs, not daisies!"
"...I have a wardrobe."
She turns around. "How big is it?"
He nods towards the room. "Right now it's almost as big as this."
She ties the scarf back on.
#
He doesn't return the next year, but he does arrive the year after that, so it's okay. He says that she can't depend on him for happiness, and tells a story about a girl who waited for him because he made a promise he couldn't keep. He takes her inside the room that smells like paint and sawdust again and up the stairs to a different room, an observatory that reminds her of her granddad and she almost asks him if she can go back and bring him along. She sees planets that she didn't know existed and constellations that form things she couldn't even picture until now.
When she's eighteen, he doesn't show up. However, a lot of her work friends do. It's a huge bash, and everyone leaves saying that they enjoyed themselves and that they should do this again. Out of the corner of her eye she thinks she sees him, but he's gone as quick as he came and she's too hungover to care. She does, however, wonder who got her this gorgeous pair of earrings that shine like nothing else, even if she can't bring herself to look at them at the moment.
The next year, her grandmother dies. She receives a photo album on her front door, full of all the old pictures of her grandparents that she'd wanted to get for Wilf to remember by. She takes it, but crumbles the sticky note with a "Happy Birthday" on it and yells out to nobody that she'll call the police if they continue to stalk her like this. When she's nineteen she stops believing in magic.
When she's twenty, the magic returns. It comes in a soft whooshing sound and a man appearing just around the corner of the supermarket. He's a willow tree, tall and wiry with a bow tie and everything. He doesn't say a word, doesn't speak, but simply holds his hands out. There's a small music box cupped between them.
She takes it, and he leans forward, whispering, "Happy Birthday, Donna", then leaving. When she gets home, she drops the grocery bags and twists the key. The top opens and the music starts playing, a melodious tune that she can't place but yet somehow knows. Lights dance over her head and keep pace with the beat, and the box is concealed in light and sound. Eventually it ends, and everything fades, and she's left with the same wooden box she had before. She twists the key again and the box opens, but a small ballerina pops out instead and turns to "Clair de Lune".
Five years pass, and nothing happens. Not a single present nor appearance. She doesn't stop believing in magic entirely, but sets it aside for reality. She finds a job—okay jobs, dates, gains friends, loses friends. She lives her life and tries her hardest to be heard, because when you're working part-time jobs all the time it's hard to find people who will actively listen. She thinks she sees him, once, but there's two other people along with him and he's wearing a green army jacket instead. The Wizard she knows lives alone.
Another five years go by. She vacations and gets a good-paying temp job in a law firm. She meets a man there, a nice man, and they plan to get married. And they almost do, in fact, until some moron in a flying phone booth beams her up. And there's Santa robots, and scorpion women, and it's all metal and grit and science and she wants out of it, because weddings are magic and she wants the magic again. And of course, she wants to rub it all in Nerys's face.
But the perfect man turns out to be a complete jerk, and subsequently dies. The wedding's called off, to say the least.
The Doctor offers her a chance to come with him, but she says no. She can't just leave after all of this has just happened. She needs to return the dress. Of course, two weeks later she's trying to find another temp job and regrets her decision, and starts her search. Donna Noble, Time Lord Sleuth. If only that was a real job. She searches and searches and finds clues and here and there, but ultimately turns up nothing.
Her father dies in the winter and she takes a break off of sleuthing for a while. Another birthday passes.
She gets back into the swing of things in June, and investigates further as she works more temp jobs. This is how she spends most of the year, and slowly the belief grows again. In magic, in hope. It swells inside of her and bursts through every ore of her skin, and to some she might as well seem mad. But mad's not really a bad thing, if you think about it.
That birthday, she's freshly thirty-two and home alone trying to find new leads when she gets a knock on her door.
"Hello," the Wizard says, smiling. He frowns. "Oh my. Must've skipped a few years."
She raises an eyebrow. "Nice to see you too, Mister. And yeah, you did. But that's alright. Oh boy, do I have a lot to tell you. Come on in."
She opens the door for him and he frowns. "You're inviting me in?"
"Yeah, dumbo, it's what people do when they want to talk with friends." She waves him in. "Come on! You won't believe what's happened to me."
They sit down in the kitchen while she puts the kettle on, and he pulls out his green stick and quickly scans her, eyes bugging. "Blimey, I really jumped a few years. Ten more than I wanted."
"Just turned thirty-two today," she says. "But if anybody asks, I'm twenty-eight, got it?"
He nods, smiling. "Of course. Thirty-two's a good age, met a lot of good people...at that age..." His voice drifts off into the unknown, as do his eyes. He snaps back into focus when she hands him his cup, grinning. "Thank you. Oh, chamomile! My favorite." He takes a sip. "So, tell me, what has happened in the life of the magnificent Donna Noble?"
"Oh, loads of things," she says. "Got a job at this law firm, right? Temp job, but good enough pay. And I meet this man, Lance, and he's sweet and always gets me a cup of coffee every day." She snorts. "Oh, if only I knew. So we start dating, get engaged, the whole lot. I plan this magnificent wedding on Christmas. You should have been there."
"Shame I wasn't," the Wizard says through a choked voice.
"And I'm walking down the aisle and wham! I'm in this bloke's time machine! And this man, he's absolutely bonkers. A bit sad, too. I think he lost someone recently. Or not recently at all. Who knows where he is now." She shakes her head. "Anyways, we go around and encounter Robo-Claus and killer decorations, and it turns out Lance has been drugging me with all these Hugh particles for his scorpion mistress." She takes a sip of her tea. "He ended up dying, and me and the Doctor almost did as well. That's the man's name, the Doctor." She frowns. "You know, you'd like him."
The Wizard fumbles. "Ah, I wouldn't be too sure."
"No, seriously, you would. He's got this madness about him that's sort of magnetic. And he's funny, too." Donna sighs. "He offered me to go with him, off to space. I didn't, though, and i hate myself for it. So that's why I'm looking for him."
"Are you?" the tall man asks, looking much more intrigued.
"It's all been dead ends, though. The closest I got was this interview with Harold Saxon, but he disappeared off the face of the earth after he lost the election."
The Wizard almost vibrates in his seat. "Well, Donna Noble, this is your lucky day." He taps her nose. "I was going to give you a dress this year, but I've got something better."
She frowns. "And what's that?"
"Adipose Industries."
"The new weight loss company? My mate Jen's started using it, says it works like a charm."
His smiles starts to grow steadily until it's reaching his eyes, and she's smiling as well. He glances at the clock. "Oh, would you look at the time! Places to see, things to go. No, wait. That was all topsy-turvy." He stands up. "Thank you for the tea. And remember: Adipose. Working a bit too well, doesn't it seem?" He raises his eyebrows. "Might want to give it some thought."
#
He doesn't visit her on her next birthday because he doesn't have to. She's got everything she ever wanted.
She loses it all not long after.
#
She's been married for five years, with two toddlers at home, and she's in a pub. It's her party, after all. A one-person party, yes, but hers. A young man buys her a drink and she never sees his face because its hidden under a ridiculous mounty hat that he defends with valor. They crack jokes until Shawn calls and she goes home. The man wishes her good luck.
When she's forty-eight she has a teenage boy and a ten year old girl, and life isn't exactly peachy-keen. So, on her birthday, she's pleased to find a tray of cookies at her work, with no note from who they were from. Jason says it's him, but Donna knows that the man can barely turn on an oven. Still, it's nice.
When she's fifty-five, Jacqueline is at an age in which she despises everyone and all Donna wants is for Marty to be back home for her birthday. She knows that he's having money troubles over in Chicago, however, and understands when he calls in saying that he won't be able to make it. But when Donna wakes up, Marty's ringing the doorbell and talking about a stranger who bought a ticket for him.
When she's seventy-five, the music box is on her nightstand. It plays another tune, which she hums along to instantly despite never having heard the song before at all.
#
When she's eighty-six, she receives a visitor at the home she's at. He walks into her room, a silhouette of a man. She instantly smiles in her bed.
"You're late," she sing-songs. "About fifty years, too."
"Sorry for the inconvenience," the Wizard apologizes. "I was helping a friend."
"Oh? And how was she?"
"Brilliant, as always." He grins.
She grins back. "It's nice to see you, Mister Wizard." She scrunches her face together. "Why are you here?"
"It's your birthday. I always visit you on your birthday."
"Oh," she says. "I'd forgotten. Apparently I do that a lot now. Shame I'm losing my mind at twenty-five."
The Wizard laughs. "You never change, do you, Donna Noble?"
"I certainly hope not." She leans forward. "So what do you have for me this time?"
"One last gift," he says. "For old time's sake."
"You missed the party. Jacqueline and her partner were here not too long ago, and Marty brought along his son this morning. Shame, they would've liked you." She eyes his coat. "That jam stain's still there, after all this time."
He frowns, looking down. "Blimey. After all this time, I never noticed it." He picks up a tissue and wipes it away. "Much better. Now it's time for us to have our own party." He pulls out a small paper crown, folded and crinkled from water damage, with the words "Birthday Girl" emblazoned on the front. He unfolds it and puts it on the top of her head. "There we go. The birthday princess has arrived." He makes a sort of trumpet-y noise that fails miserably, and Donna chuckles.
"Don't I get cake?" she inquires.
He pats his jacket, eyes wide. "Oh, hell. Must've left it in the TARDIS."
Something flashes in her head for a moment and stabs at her temples. She tries her best to ignore it. "What did you say?"
"Ah, oh. Um...Cardiff. I must've left it in the...Cardiff bakery."
She blinks. "Funny, I thought you said—"
"I know, Donna. And that's why I'm here." He crouches next to her, grinning. "Can you recall, when you were seven, and I turned on the holo-sphere?"
She smiles fondly at the memory. "You took me to space."
"Yes, and we saw that nebula, remember?" Donna nods. "Well there's a nebula living right inside your head. And a long time ago I kept it shut up in that holo-sphere of yours, keeping it secret because it's so big. Beautiful, but big. And today I'm offering you the choice to let it out."
Donna frowns. "What'll happen to me?"
He shifts uncomfortably. "You'll die."
"What's in there that's all locked up? Is it like some sort of bomb implanted in my head or something? Is it going to go off any s-"
"No, no!" he waves his hands around. "It's memories. Memories you've had but lost. Remember me visiting you on each of your birthdays? Think of that, but every day. That's what's in your head. And it'll kill you, if you want to see i—"
"I want to see it."
The Wizard frowns. "Are you certain?"
"I've lived a long life, Mister Wizard. Look at me, I can barely stand up most of the time. I think I could use those memories right around now."
The Wizard looks at her, shocked, and gulps. "Alright. Fair enough." He hesitantly puts a hand on either side of her face, and leans in, touching foreheads. "Are you absolutely certain?"
"Yes, for god's sake, I'm bloody certain! Just get on with it. I want to see the stars again."
"As you wish, Birthday Girl."
The Wizard takes a deep breath, and counts to three. And suddenly the nebula's expanding across her head, and outward, and she's seen him, all his faces. She sees the planets made of ice and men with stone arms and giant wasps and she sees every last bit of it. Every star a memory, every planet a person, every comet a voice. It all collides and explodes into this golden nebula right in front of her eyes.
It beats a Barbie any day.