So, this is my first published fanfiction! Hurrah, right? Anyway, I got the idea when I was listening to one of the best bands of all times, the Smiths. A bit of a songfic for Donna Noble, who I avidly ship with the 10th Doctor. Bit of Doctor/Donna romance implied, but it's not too terribly much, I don't think. Anyway, I hope you like the story!

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who or the Smiths - if I did, would I be writing fanfiction?

Last night I dreamt

That somebody loved me

No hope, but no harm

Just another false alarm.

A man. Just a simple man, in a pinstripe suit and converse. But he wasn't just a simple man. No, he was so much more to Donna Noble. So much more that Donna would never be able to remember. Every time she looked into those eyes so old and deep, and felt a strange shiver pass through her. Her mind whirled as she tried so, so hard to remember, but the last tendrils of recognition slipped away. She had no idea who this wonderful, brilliant man was, yet it felt so right when he reached out to gently cup her cheek.

She leaned into the touch, savouring it, hoping it would never end. She could see the pain in the unknown man's eyes as he regarded her. Pain so deep, she could imagine that his very soul was being torn apart as he watched her. And even though she had not an inkling who this man was, it pained her to see him in pain. So she reached out to him, softly stroking a sideburn.

As her skin met his, his mask crumbled away, leaving a broken, lonely man in it's wake. Crushing her to him, he held her tightly, mumuring nonsensical words into her flaming ginger hair. But, amongst the broken phrases, only three words stood out. "I love you." Those three words she had longed to hear, yet never got the chance to. And, although she hardly new this man, she flung her arms around his neck, buried her face in his chest, and told him that she loved him too.

It was paradise for Donna Noble.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

A curse was muffled by a thick, deep blue duvet, and a pale hand snaked out from beneath the covers to slam down on the alarm, succesfully stopping the incessant beeping. Slowly, the duvet was pulled back, first revealing a shock of tangled ginger hair before revealing the rest of Donna Noble. A dream. It was just a dream. A dream that was slowly slipping back into the ether.

But how, Donna wondered as wandered to the bathroom,could've I ever thought it to be more than a dream? No one loves me. Not like that, anyway. Simply platonic. Donna Noble, the future brilliant old maid.

As she yanked the brush through her hair, a phrase came back to her, spoken by a figure shrouded in black, whose name she could not place. Brilliant and unloved. A sharp pain coursed through her, and she grabbed the sink in shock, before dismissing it as the brush catching a particularily rough tangle of hair.

Brilliant and unloved. Describes me enough, dunnit? Donna couldn't help the wry smile that twisted up the corners of her lips. Brilliant? She was most definately that - the best temp in Chiswick, she was. Unloved? She was most definately that. Sure, she had people who loved her. Gramps, her mum (questioningly enough), Nerys, her other friends. But that was a different love. The love you feel for a family member. But when it came to love,as in the special emotions felt between a man and a woman in regards of one another, she was most certainly unloved. No man would even turn his head at her, save for those who felt it necessary to ogle her cleavage.

But then why did it seem so real? Donna chose not to ponder this particular thing - it would only make her head hurt, which would make her snappy and her family concerned, for reasons they played off.

Heaving a sigh, Donna applied her make-up and threw her clothes on, before trodding down the long flight of stairs that would lead her to the kitchen.

"Mornin' sweetheart! How's my girl today?" Wilf asked cheerily from the breakfast table, a grin set in his whiskery features.

"Lovely as always, Gramps!" Donna trilled, wincing when she realized that her voice wasn't chipper, even to her.

"Donna, love, are you alright?" Her mum asked, turning away from the stove where she was apparently removing the kettle.

"I'm fine, I'm always fine." The words bubbled instantly to her lips, and they came out before she realized she was speaking. The words had a familiar tone to them, and she winced as a flash of pain coursed through her body, just as it had in the bathroom. It was gone as soon as it had come, and she played it off with a shake as she moved to sit at the table across from her grandfather.

Wilf's eyes had widened perceivably, and he and Sylvia shared an alarmed look before turning to look at Donna. They both knew those words to be ones that the Doctor had spoken many times when things had taken a turn for the worst. Donna had always talked about how she wished he would simply admit he wasn't fine - no one was always fine.

"Right then!" Sylvia decided a change in the conversation would be a good idea. "Now, Donna, do you have any plans for today?"

"I dunno, mum. I thought about going down to see if there were any jobs availiable."

"Good! Better than all your moping! Honestly, it seems as if you've lost your best friend!" Sylvia bit back a gasp as she tried to recover from her fumble. Mention of best friends may bring back memories that ought stay buried. "It's unbecoming of you, Donna."

"Right mum. Yes mum. Of course, mum." Donna knew this song-and-dance by now. After all, she received the whole 'you-should-get-a-job-and-pull-your-own' bit all the time. Because being a temp isn't exactly the best-paid job out there, Donna was still living with her mum and Gramps. Then again, she probably needed the moral support.

"Oi! Now don't get smart with me young lady!" Secretly, Sylvia was pleased that Donna had regained a bit of her previous attitude. It was better than the numbness that she so frequently was enveloped in.

"Yes mum." Donna replied with a roll of her eyes.

Wilf snickered as he watched the conversation between his girls. Usually, things weren't this good. Ever since the Doctor had dropped Donna off, she had been enveloped in a cloud of self-hatred and depression. The spark that was normally in her eyes was gone for most of the time, and she was constantly going on about her weight, and how she wished a man would actually love her, and not just lust for her. But now, he had gotten a glimpse of his old Donna - his real Donna - and he wanted to soak in every moment of it.

After a nice cuppa, Donna was gone, out the door and off to see what she could fine job-wise. Sadly, it was not much.

That night, after her shower, she changed into her bedclothes and slipped between the covers, wrapping herself tightly in them. For a moment, she allowed her mind to wander before sleep finally took hold of her, and dragged her down into the darkness.

Last night I felt

Real arms around me

No hope, no harm

Just another false alarm.

So tell me how long?

Until the last one?

And tell me how long?

Before the right one?

The man again. This time, in a blue suit, with a long, brown overcoat, accompanied with red converse. Honestly, what was with the man and the converse? But those thoughts were swept from her mind as he looked at her, looking at her so deeply she imagined he was trying to see into her very soul. She should be frightened. She should run from this man she did not know, yet knew so well. She should run from this unknown source of pain and bleakness. She should run away.

But instead, she runs to him.

She runs to him and throws herself in his arms, tears springing unbidden into her eyes, tracing patterns as they rolled down her cheeks. A strangled sob was choked from her throat as she buried her face in his neck, clinging to him as if he were her lifeline. Strangely, she felt like he was her lifeline. Because there, as he held her tightly, crushing her against his chest and burying his face in her hair as he had the night before, all her sorrow and fears melted away, becoming lost in the ether. All of her self-hatred and depression flew from her mind. Because in his arms, everything was right. A phrase from long ago came ringing into her ears. The universe isn't right. It might not have been right then, in that unplaceable time, but it was right now. In his arms, the universe was right, and for a second, for a glorious second, she could imagine singing. A lovely but haunting singing, ringing forth from some unnameable place, but there nonetheless. It was magnificent.

And then it was gone, and so was she. She was falling, falling from his arms, away from him. She could see him reach for her, then shake his head and draw his hand back, and unfathomable expression on his face. Did he not want to save her? As she fell, a scream tore from her lips.

"Donna? DONNA!" Wilfred's cries rang in her ear as she was roughly shaken into consciousness. Wilf, hearing Donna's scream, had been terrified that she had remembered. Terrified that she would die. "Donna? Can you hear me, love?" His words were nearly sobs as he watched her.

"Gramps?" A groan was emitted as her sleep-dazed eyes slowly fluttered open. "Gramps, what is it?"

"Donna!" He threw his arms around his granddaughter, holding her closely and rocking her before setting her back gently on the bed. "I thought you were hurt! Donna, what made you scream, love?"

"Gramps, no, I'm fine! It was...silly." Donna uttered the last sentence softly, reluctant to tell him what had happened. After all, she was terrified that if she were to ever speak of her dreams, they would stop occuring, and she would never see her mystery man whom she knew so well. But then again, would that mean it would actually happen? She didn't know.

"Love, it's alright, tell me? Sometimes, telling someone about your nightmares makes it all better." Wilf nodded, affirming his own statement as if that would give Donna comfort enough to tell him.

"Well...Alright, then."

The story is old - I know

But it goes on

The story is old - I know

But it goes on.

And so she told him of her mystery man. The man shrouded in vaugeness, yet the man that was so familiar. She told him of how he made her feel, and how she loved him, and he loved her. She told him of how she always woke up, but wished she could stay with him, forever. She told him everything.

And as Wilfred was told of this, he fought back the tears that threatened to overwhelm him. His Donna remembered the Doctor, even if it was only in her dreams, and never fully. She loved him, and apparently, he loved her. And that was all he could ever ask for. Yet that was all that could never happen.

When she finished her tale, and a flush coloured her cheeks a bright red, Wilfred enveloped her into a hug, caressing her hair comfortingly. "Well, love, I hope you meet this man of your dreams someday." But as he uttered his words, he knew that they were empty - she would never be able to meet the Doctor again.

"I just hope he's real!" Donna countered, a small laugh escaping her throat. "Because if he is, I assure you Gramps, I'm going to find him!"

And then, as he held Donna and laughed with her, Wilfred Mott's heart broke that much more for his precious granddaughter. Because the Doctor did exist. And Donna would never be able to track him down, and have the happy ending she deserved.

Oh, goes on

And on

And, goes on

And on...

Fin.

So, what do you think? Complete and utter rubbish? Complete and utter brilliance? Should I shut up now? Review, and let me know! 3
By the way, the song is 'Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me' by The Smiths. Reviews = love! Thanks for reading! 3