A/N: Two in a row! Wow! Short little drabble to get the creative juices flowing. No mention of relationships, just a silly little fic.
Disclaimer: Davies, BBC, BBC Wales, and CBC own, I am but a lowly admirer.
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The ship was on lockdown, life-support failing, engines long since powered down to lowest running expenditure possible. A failsafe, set to go off after so many years of inactivity. Rather ingenius if one stopped to think about it, a bit morbid, but prescient nonetheless. Not that sensible failsafes were at the top of the Doctor's interests at the moment. Finding Donna and getting the hell out of dodge seemed a bit more important.
They'd had the perfect timing to show up and wander a bit long enough to get separated just five minutes before the failsafe set off, Donna down one corridor, the Doctor another. Both too busy poking and prodding in the 52nd century ship to notice the pulsing lights and rather loud klaxons letting anyone left alive that isomething/i was about to happen.
To be honest, ever since the Doctor's latest regeneration, things had been a little...awkward. He'd explained that every once in a while, something glitched. Chromosomes went a different way, genes switched places, just his body's way of having some variety. Donna had just babbled and stared, blue eyes wide, pale as a piece of paper before blurting it out.
"You're a bloody WOMAN!!"
The Doctor sighed. Humans and their quaint little categories.
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To those who might think I'm a bit gender confused when it comes to pronouns, my philosophy was even though the Doctor's outward appearance is a woman, he's still mentally a man, and therefore would refer to himself as a man...I know, it's a bit confusing...How 'bout you just review instead of thinking about it?