1: Laughter

The Doctor fell into the TARDIS, every muscle in his body aching. His sides hurt, as did his legs, his arms, his neck and pretty much every other extremity that he hadn't gotten around to feeling yet. Donna collapsed beside him, grabbing his arm tightly at the elbow and making him cry out, a high, screeching noise that seemed very unlike him. He could feel her shaking next to him, and it was all he could do to kick the door of the TARDIS shut before the others got in.

He heard her try to say something, but couldn't quite catch what it was. He was loud enough to drown out any speech, and she was being about five times louder than he was. If anyone else had been in the room with them, the Doctor wouldn't have been surprised if he and Donna accidentally deafened them with their cries.

He remained on all fours, his head hanging down, as Donna rolled over onto her back next to him and released his elbow. She was crying now, her features twisted as she tried to stop herself.

"Did you see…" she managed to gasp, before dissolving into tears again. After a few moments, she had composed herself enough to finish her sentence with, "…his face?"

The Doctor had paused in his own laughter to attempt to catch some of her speech, but the mention of this set him off again, and he collapsed on to his front next to her. "Priceless," he spluttered, rolling over onto his back next to Donna, his chest vibrating rapidly as he laughed.

"He was going to…"

"I know! But we had the… the…" The Doctor couldn't finish due to his mirth. He screwed his eyes tightly shut and two tears squeezed out from underneath his eyelids, running down his face. Happy tears. He hadn't cried those kinds of tears in a long time.

"I can't stop… I can't stop… laughing!" she said.

The Doctor pulled himself to his feet after this, and held his hand out for Donna's own. "Come on, we'd better get out of here. They're probably trying to get into the TARDIS as we speak."

Donna waved his hand away and grabbed one of the pillars next to her, putting all her weight on it and getting up. She leant on it for support as she continued laughing, watching the Doctor run to the TARDIS' control panel and hit some buttons, before pulling a lever. After doing this, he leant over the screen and turned to look at her. At the sight of her face, he grinned.

"My God. Do you live your life like that?" Donna said, having controlled her laughter enough to speak coherently.

"Not all the time. But it's brilliant when I do! Donna, welcome to life in the TARDIS!"

Donna tied her hair up quickly, running her hands over her face. "I need a shower after all that running," she announced, and the Doctor nodded, indicating for her to go ahead. Donna remained still, giving the Doctor a withering look.

"What?"

"Doctor, I only just got here. Just how bigger on the inside is your spaceship? Sorry," she interrupted herself at the look on the Doctor's face, "the TARDIS."

"Big enough," the Doctor said, turning back to the screen and pressing it with his fingers a few times.

"How big is big enough?"

"Big."

"Then where's the bathroom?"

"Oh! Sorry!" The Doctor pulled off his coat and chucked it onto the jump seat near him, before running towards the corridor that lead to the different rooms. He lead her down it, passing many doors on their left and right, before reaching a dark wooden door that he stopped at and tapped.

"That's your room," he said.

"I have a room?" Donna repeated, looking confused.

"Yes," the Doctor said, looking confused himself at why this information was confusing. "Look, it says 'Donna' on the door."

Donna looked closer, her eyes narrowing as she took in this information. "You… made me a room? I've only been a semi permanent resident for a couple of hours! How did you know I was going to come along with you this time?"

The Doctor raised one eyebrow. "It was the TARDIS. She made you a room as soon as you agreed to come."

"The TARDIS?" Donna repeated incredulously.

"Oh…" The Doctor rubbed his face agitatedly with his hands, before tousling his hair up. "Let's not get into this. Donna, it's your room; no arguments, it just is. There's an en suite in there if you're going to take a shower. The TARDIS needs some work doing, so I'll be in the control room if you need me, all right?"

"Okay," Donna replied, and watched as he wandered off, back the way he came.

He often had his head in the clouds, she'd realised. He had come to her about a year, give or take a few months, after she had applied for a higher position at her job. One could say, the new H.C. Clement's. They'd rebuilt it after it had been destroyed. Donna herself had seen that the owner had been killed, and made sure that the people working there knew it too. She had also insisted, as the bearer of this not so good news, that the company should continue to be called H.C. Clement's, even though it was pretty much a new company as well as a new building. She was just a lowly secretary, but strangely enough the workers there listened to her, and understood her point of view. A few days afterwards, she found out that she had been promoted.

At first, she thought that maybe she would now take Lance's old job. She soon realised, however, that this was not the case; she was just a lowly secretary, after all, and someone higher up than her had already been appointed for that. Donna took his old job. It was longer hours, but it gave her more money as well. She finally felt as though she was going up in the world.

It took her a long time to get over Lance. She had been a lot more affected than she had let on to the Doctor, or to her friends, or to her family. She supposed that in the way they hid their real emotions, she and the Doctor were very similar. Time was, she couldn't get through a day without thinking about her ex fiancé at least once, and sometimes she would have the most terrible dreams about him, ones that she would wake up from in a cold sweat, tears streaking her face.

But gradually, the nightmares had stopped, and she didn't think about Lance as much. Oh, she still thought of him from time to time, but he no longer dominated her life as he had done. She was able to work normally, and that was when she had applied to his old position, when the man who had had it before quit due to personal reasons.

The business with the Prime Minister, Harold Saxon, had happened somewhere in between Donna half forgetting about Lance, and her applying for the position. But she, always one to miss the big picture, wasn't too worried about it. The President of the United States had been killed, she knew that, and when she'd watched it on the television she could have sworn that she had seen the Doctor in the background… but maybe that had been wishful thinking.

In any case, Donna had not been too perturbed about the arrival of the Toclafane, because she had seen the Racnoss and she knew what had been inside 'the Christmas star that came to kill'. But after she saw the President's death, she had a strong urge for the Doctor to come back. Because she wanted to stand up, go out there, and do something. She had learnt with the Doctor that evil could be prevented if people didn't just sit back and do nothing, but did something about it.

So when the Doctor turned up at H.C. Clement's following a rogue something or other that she hadn't even bothered to ask about, and he had suggested, once again, that she come with him, she had not hesitated to say yes, even though she had just applied for the higher up job.

And here she was now. So far, she had enjoyed every minute of it and would trade it for nothing. Smiling to herself, Donna twisted the knob on the door and pushed it forward, stepping inside her room and heading straight for the en suite bathroom. She really needed a shower.

"You still working?" Donna called, rubbing her wet hair with a towel and sitting down in the jump seat, watching the tuft of the Doctor's brown hair bob up and down. It was the only thing she could see from her current position, although she could hear the whirr of the sonic screwdriver quite clearly.

"Almost finished!" the Doctor replied cheerily, although his voice was quite strained, probably because of his twisted position underneath the TARDIS grating.

Donna sighed and leant back against the fabric behind her, wriggling a little to get comfortable. She was wearing nothing but a white dressing gown, and was holding a towel in her hands, which she proceeded to wrap around her head and hair in order to make it dry more quickly. She crossed her legs and her arms, and soon got bored of waiting.

"Are you always this antisocial?"

There was a clattering noise as, Donna presumed, the Doctor dropped something – and she was willing to bet that it was his sonic screwdriver. His head soon stuck out from below the grating, and his face was smeared with black. Donna resisted the urge to laugh out loud at just how ridiculous he looked.

"I'm not being antisocial!" he protested weakly, rubbing his hands on his shirt. It was then that Donna noticed he had taken off his pinstripe jacket, and both that and his coat were next to each other on the jump seat, next to her.

She gave a derivative snort that proved she didn't quite agree with his point of view. "You've got a load of dirt on your face," she stated pointedly.

"Yeah? Well you've got a fluffy towel on your head."

Donna couldn't help smiling. "Touché." The Doctor smiled too and dived back underneath the grating. Soon afterwards, the whirr of the sonic screwdriver recommenced. "Doctor."

"Yes?"

"I just had a poke around your space– the TARDIS."

"Oh?"

"I found the kitchen. It's not very well stocked." Donna made a clicking noise with her tongue, hoping to convey to him her disapproval.

"Sorry," the Doctor said, as he stopped using the sonic screwdriver for a moment. "It's been only me for a little while. I'll tell her to put some more food in for you."

"Thanks." There was silence as the Doctor continued his task, whatever that was. "Doctor."

"Yes?"

"Can we go out for a meal?"

The Doctor's head reappeared, and he rested his arms on the floor on the TARDIS, sonic screwdriver in hand. "Can we what?"

"Go out. For a meal. You know, at a restaurant."

"I don't do that–"

"–sort of thing. I know. But it's my first night here. I'd just like to go out to a restaurant and have a meal. Just to remind me that the world and reality is still out there, waiting for me to come back to it if I ever wanted to. Don't you forget about them in here?" Donna asked.

The Doctor paused in his response, and Donna noticed a wave of sadness pass across his face, one that he quickly tried to hide. "Not really."

"Come on, Doctor. We can go to a nice restaurant, with no aliens, no threats, no massive bugs that are wielding giant torches with the intent of killing us, just me and a Martian. Specifically, this one." She pointed at the Doctor, and he couldn't help smiling at her way of putting things, but he didn't reply.

Donna heaved a sighed and unfolded her arms, patting the towel on her head. "Please?"

The Doctor's face contorted as he thought about it. Finally, he came to a decision. "Oh… all right," he said, sighing.

"Good! Get ready then," Donna said, getting to her feet and smiling widely. "I won't be long."

The Doctor watched as she left and smiled lopsidedly. He was glad that right now, he had a companion who had no intention of wanting to be with him, ever. It was like a breath of fresh air. He liked Martha – he just didn't love her. Donna seemed to realise that he needed a friend, nothing else. And for that, he liked her immensely.

"'Won't be long'?" the Doctor announced incredulously as Donna came back into the control room. "It's been almost an hour!"

Donna looked at her watch, bored. She wondered idly why she even had a watch anymore, seeing as the Doctor could take her to any place, any time. As she thought this, she took it off and put it into her pocket. It was irritating to have it around her wrist anyway, and she had pockets now. She was going to use them.

She was wearing blue jeans, a black top, and a long white coat. She hadn't bothered to get all dressed up, because she knew that the Doctor wouldn't get all dressed up even if she had done. Sure enough, the Doctor was still in his brown pinstripes – although he had changed his shirt and scrubbed the dirt off his face, thankfully.

The Doctor, seemingly reading her mind, grinned and said, "It's good you've taken the towel off your head, too."

Donna smiled back and made her way to the TARDIS door. She stopped before opening it, and turned to look back to the Doctor. "Tell me we're at a restaurant and not floating in space somewhere."

"We're at a restaurant and not floating in space somewhere," the Doctor repeated obediently.

"Is that true?"

"Of course it is."

Donna pulled on the door and stepped outside, glad that the Doctor had been telling the truth. Stepping out of the TARDIS and falling into space would not have been her idea of a pleasant evening out – although it might well have amused the Doctor if she had somehow managed to do this. He would have saved her, of course. She hoped.

They were parked in an alleyway, and across the road, Donna could see the lights of a shop – or a restaurant. She could hardly wait to head over to it, as the night was quite cold and she was quite hungry.

She heard him step out next to her and felt him stop beside her. She looked over at him and was a little surprised to see that he wasn't wearing his coat; he loved that coat, after all, and hardly went anywhere without it. She quickly forgot about it, however, and looked around her as the Doctor shut the door of the TARDIS.

"So, where are we then?"

"Earth," the Doctor said simply.

"That's a start," Donna said, a pleased laugh escaping her lips. "What restaurant?"

"Prezzo."

"Prezzo?"

"Yes, Prezzo."

"I've been to Prezzo loads of times. I was thinking you would take me somewhere… more exotic."

The Doctor furrowed his brow at his companion. "Nah!" he said. "Good old Prezzo. Selling pizza, pasta, risotto, salad, you name it, they sell it."

"Indian food," Donna said sarcastically, and the Doctor heaved a sigh.

"Humans – never appreciative, are they?"

"No, they're not," Donna agreed, drawing her coat tighter around her. "I don't know about you, but I'm freezing. Are we going to go in or what?"

"Yes, sorry." The Doctor gave her a grin and strode forward, coming out of the alleyway, crossing the road, and stepping into Prezzo. He announced that he wanted a table for two, and soon enough he and Donna were sitting down at a table, looking at a menu each.

"This is nice," Donna said, after a while of silence as they both scrutinised the menu. The Doctor raised his eyebrows at her but said nothing in reply. "You don't think it's nice? You chose it!"

"Of course I think it's nice. I'm just slightly worried that it took you so long to realise that everything I do is nice – especially when it comes to choosing restaurants," the Doctor said, in a bit of a whiny voice.

Donna couldn't help snorting with laughter. "Everything you do is nice? Honestly, what planet do you live on, Doctor?"

Immediately, his mood changed. He dipped his head and hid his face behind the menu, clearing his throat loudly. Donna realised her mistake as soon as he did so. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely. There was no reply. "Are you okay?"

"It's fine. I'm fine. I'm always fine. Mmm, the Pollo E Spinaci looks good, what do you think?"

"Doctor–"

"Or pizza. I fancy a pizza. But which one? The Funghi or the Tropicana? The Reine or the Vesuvio? Actually – never mind about the Vesuvio… sounds a bit too spicy… and too much like Vesuvius. I never did trust that mountain. 'It's dormant now,' they said. It's not my fault that it wasn't."

"Doctor…"

"Hmm?"

"I really am sorry."

The Doctor folded the menu and put it down on the table. "I'll just have a Caesar salad. Great guy, Caesar."

Donna was beginning to get frustrated. "The Caesar salad's a side order," she pointed out.

"Then I'll ask for it as a main course," the Doctor said, tapping his nose. Upon seeing the look on Donna's face, he plastered a fake smile on and added, "I'm fine."

Donna opened her mouth to say more, when the waiter came over and began to take their orders. True to his word, the Doctor asked for the Caesar salad as a main course, with tap water to drink, and Donna chose to have a Margherita with lemonade. The waiter took their menus and walked off, leaving them alone once more. Donna knew better than to keep on pressing the Doctor about his mood – the moment had long since passed.

"You've got money this time?" she asked.

The Doctor felt about his person before pulling out a wallet from his outside jacket pocket. "Yes," he said, brandishing it at her. "I realised that I might need one after that incident with the Racnoss. Someone kept screaming 'pockets' at me. Can't think who…"

Donna laughed a little, before sobering up. He was even more temperamental than her. Would she ever get used to this? The Doctor carefully replaced the wallet in his pocket.

"What have you been doing since last Christmas, then? When we met, I mean."

The Doctor got that hazy look in his eyes again almost immediately, as if he was far, far away. He looked across at another table. "This and that," he murmured.

"What about when the President was assassinated?" Donna pressed, mindful of the Doctor's sour mood. "Were you there?"

The Doctor looked back at her, and replied in that broken voice he used when memories he didn't like were stirring in his head and becoming a lot more real. "Yep."

Donna nodded, and lapsed into silence as she decided not to press this particular issue any further. When their meal came, she dug in quite happily. The Doctor was a lot slower at eating, but he certainly didn't have better table manners. At one point, he dipped his finger into the sauce that came with his Caesar salad, and Donna couldn't help it; she burst out laughing.

The Doctor had his finger in his mouth as he began to laugh too, and soon they were laughing so hard that they couldn't stop; again. Donna realised that this quite uncontrollably at some of the stupidest things.

It took a while for their giggles to subside, and by then they were attracting quite a lot of attention. Donna leant over and poked him in the chest, before jerking her head at a table of girls near them. "I think those teenagers are checking you out."would become quite common in the TARDIS if it was just the two of them. They seemed to laugh

The Doctor gave her a smile and went back to eating his salad. Pleased, Donna finished off her pizza. They talked and they laughed and all in all, they both had an excellent time. When they headed back to the TARDIS, their spirits were high. They were happy, but tired.

"I'm exhausted," Donna announced. "Who knew you could have such a great night without getting smashed?"

The Doctor grinned in spite of himself, and Donna nodded at him. "I'm heading off to bed then," she said, stretching a little. "Goodnight, Doctor."

"Goodnight, Donna."

Donna turned and began to walk towards her room. She got to the corridor when a voice gently calling her name made her turn back around. She found herself face to face with the Doctor, who was standing a couple of metres away from her.

"Thank you," he said, softly.

Donna smiled at him. He looked so broken as he stood in front of her that she couldn't help going up to him and wrapping her arms around him, squeezing him tightly. She felt him return the hug.

She could tell that he had been through so much before they'd met, and that he had been through so much after they'd met, too. He needed time to heal, and Donna was happy to help him do that.

She disentangled himself from his arms and stepped backwards. He was smiling, and she smiled back. "See you in the morning then, Doctor."

Tiredly, she turned back to face the corridor and left the Doctor in the control room, alone. As he watched her leave, a lone tear trickled down his cheek.