Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who
AN: Yet another post Journey's End fic about Donna. It's an overused premise, but I hope I made it enjoyable. Don't read if you haven't watch Journey's End, though that probably goes without saying.
Unforgettable
Every year, on the date of her almost-wedding with Lance that she couldn't quite remember, Donna Noble received a bouquet made entirely out of forget-me-nots. There was never a note or any indication of who exactly left them, which irritated her in an oddly deep way. They would just appear on her doorstep or in her mailbox, regular as clockwork.
Donna had tried six times to find out who her secret admirer was, with stakeouts and hidden cameras and all that jazz, but every attempt simply didn't work. Each time she would either fall asleep or the admittedly low-quality cameras would freeze over, and in that moment the mysterious flower leaver would strike. One time she even hired a PI, for Christ's sake! That was a waste of money. The next morning she got up and he was passed out on her doorstep, bouquet rather ostentatiously displayed next to him. When she asked him about who it was, he put on the oddest expression and claimed that it was aliens. She fired him immediately, assuming that he was either drunk or one of the UFO freaks that seemed to have congregated to England over the last few years.
Her last attempt at identifying the mystery man was by going to a hotel that night that prided itself on its security, like Chiswick was some sort of Mafia-run hellhole or something. It was nice, if a bit pricey. She didn't get a lick of sleep though from her nerves and curiosity. The next morning the receptionist called up to her room, saying that a bouquet had been left for her at the front desk by an anonymous person who had somehow eluded being captured on camera. All they got on film was a blob of distorted light and a weird screeching noise.
After that Donna just gave up. It wasn't like her secret admirer was trying to kill her or make her into meat pies or anything. Besides, she rather liked the flowers. They were the most magnificent shade of deep blue. They must have been dyed or specially grown or something because the color was definitely not natural. However, the odd thing was that they were tied in a bundle by a white bootlace, like the kind off of a pair of trainers.
She kept each bouquet, drying them in the manner that her mum taught her as a child and hanging them above her bed by their laces. They never seemed to lose their vibrant color, which Donna knew was rather strange. However, in her opinion they were the most beautiful flowers in the world, dangling from her bedroom ceiling and lulling her into dreams of outer space and aliens and she would always wake up thinking that she is important and would never, ever be forgotten. It was silly, of course. Donna Noble would never be significant enough to remember. She'd never done anything particularly noteworthy, after all. It's not like she'd become Prime Minister or pulled someone from the Thames or rescued a kitten from a bloody tree. She was a temp, for Chrissakes, she was even nondescript by job title!
It would always be nice to dream though, especially of this one man in a blue police booth. His face was blurry and his voice indistinct, but she always got this funny feeling that she knew him from somewhere. She liked to think that he was perhaps a figure from her childhood, a person long since rendered fuzzy by time and age. It didn't matter though, since the one concrete fact she knew about this mad magic man was that she would never see him again. She had no clue why this made her cry.