It was a warm day. The Doctor shrugged off his coat, slung it over his arm, and began walking down the road. He didn't want to be in the Tardis; not now, when Donna's voice echoed in every corridor and small things of hers cropped up on all surfaces. She certainly hadn't been the neatest person he'd ever met; she wasn't a slob by any means, but she did like to have a certain level of 'comfortable mess', as she'd called it. No use in keeping everything so spit and polish that you couldn't sit down for fear you might upset the perfect balance of order.

The Doctor pressed his hands against the sides of his head, trying to stop thinking about her, but that only made it worse; because those hands, just days ago, had been on the sides of her head. He closed his eyes, willing himself not to see her face as it had been at that moment.

BEEP! BEEP!

He jerked his head up and jumped out of the way just in time to miss being hit by a bus. The vehicle slowed down, and the driver shouted,

"Look where you're going! You drunk or something?"

"No," he said. "I'm sorry."

As the bus was about to start off again, he made up his mind. "Wait! Let me on."

He climbed aboard, noting that the bus was definitely not a modern one. He hadn't bothered to notice which year the Tardis had taken him to, but it was definitely closer to 1980 than to 2008.

He sat down and stared at his hands.

"So where you off to?" asked the bus driver.

"I don't know. Anywhere this bus is going."

"Strathclyde it is."

"Fine. That will be fine."

It was ten minutes before he sat back and realized who was sitting beside him: a little girl, no more than six or seven he would guess, with reddish hair. She looked up at him as he tried to pretend that she was blond, or brunette, or anything other than a redhead.

"Hi," she said, giving him a gap toothed smile and sticking out her hand.

He nodded and took the hand. "Hello."

"You look sad, mister," she said.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do." He smiled a bit. "You made me think of someone."

"Who?"

"Oh, just a friend." He glanced around, noticing that she didn't seem to have anyone looking after her. "Where's your mum and dad?"

She lifted her nose in the air. "Mum wouldn't take me on holiday this year, and dad is off on business."

"Oh," he said, drawing out the word. "So you decided to take a vacation by yourself. Is that it, eh?" He couldn't help smiling at the cheeky little face in front of him. "But won't they be worried about you?"

"I left a note," she said, nodding decisively. "But I put it where they won't find it for a day or two. I learned how to spell this year."

"Why Strathclyde, though? Couldn't you have gone somewhere a bit, I don't know, closer to home?"

She shrugged. "That's the place we went last year. I didn't know about any other places." She seemed to be enjoying the attention he was giving her.

"What will you do there?"

"I've got an aunt there, somewhere. She'll take me swimming and to the museums and stuff."

He grinned. "I see. That's brilliant!"

The little girl sighed. "I wish that gramps would take me places. He's a lot more fun than mum, but it seems like he always gets sick this time of year. Mum calls it the man flu, but she says I make up when I'm sick, too, and I don't."

Just then a police siren sounded behind them, and a moment later the bus began to slow down. The Doctor stood and watched as a policeman got out and talked to the driver, who gestured towards the inside of the bus.

"What is it?" asked the little girl, standing on the seat and looking out.

The Doctor looked down at her. "I think your mum had the police out looking for you."
"But they can't!" she protested. "I didn't even get to spend a day at Strathclyde! How'd they find me? I hid the note good."

"If they're worried, parents can find things pretty quickly," he said.

"I'll hide, then," she said, beginning to crawl under the seat. The Doctor took her hand and pulled her out.

"No, don't do that."

The policeman, along with the bus driver, entered the bus.

"That her?" the driver asked.

"Yes, I believe so." The policeman frowned at the Doctor. "Kidnap her, did you?"

"What?" the Doctor exploded. "No! Absolutely not!"
"No," the driver hastened to explain. "He got on about ten miles back. The little girl came on a good bit earlier than that."

"Ah, sorry about that, sir." The policeman came forward. "Little girl, you stay here. Your mother is on her way."

0000000000

They waited about half an hour, until another police car drove up. A woman got out, along with an older man. The Doctor felt sorry for the little girl, although he knew it was inevitable; she had a lot of pluck for her age.

The woman rushed forward, seizing the girl in her arms. "Donna!" she said, half angrily, half in tears. "Donna May Noble, how dare you! We were worried sick!"

The world seemed to spin around the Doctor and he very quickly sat down, holding his head in his hands. Why? Why did the Tardis do this to him? For the last little while he had forgotten his troubles, had had a pleasant time even, and now this. He forced back a groan, not wishing to draw attention to himself.

"But mum!" the little girl said. "He's a nice man. He talked to me and no one else would!"

The Doctor didn't look up until Donna was right at his side, dragging her mother along with her.

"Thanks for looking after her," Sylvia said. "She's a naughty one, Donna is."

He nodded but didn't meet her eyes. He didn't want her to remember him years later when they met again. Wilfred was right behind them.

"There's my Donna!" he said, swinging her up into his arms. "Why'd you have to run off from your old granddad that way?"

"I wanted to go on holiday!"

"Well, can't we have a holiday right at home, eh? We can play cricket, and watch the telly. How would you like that?"

"Well," she said slowly. "OK. But you can't throw the ball too hard or you'll knock out my loose tooth!"

"All right, sweetheart. I'll make sure of that."

0000000000

The Doctor got off the bus and wandered back down the road, heading more or less in the general direction of the Tardis. He didn't know that he even wanted to see her right now; she should never have brought him here. There was no need. Donna hadn't been in any danger, and the police would have found her whether he'd been there or not. He kicked viciously at a rock.

He should have known when he saw the red hair. He should have known, and he should have taken another seat right away, never talked to her, ignored her.

She had been cute, though. And just as sassy and determined back when she was a little girl as she was when she'd grown up. It was just like his Donna to be six years old on a bus all by herself, headed off on holiday. He laughed just a little, with a lump in his throat. After all, maybe it had been good of the Tardis to do. Instead of his last interaction with Donna being a horrible and sad one, he now could remember her as a little girl, happy and full of life.

When he finally reached his ship, he gave her a pat. "I'm sorry, old girl. Thanks."