Author's Notes: I do not own Doctor Who, the Doctor or Donna because if I did you would have seen this story in Series 4. Anyway, this is in the Regarding Mrs Smith ficverse, you may put in somewhere after Ch 37 of RMS itself. You might recall that in chapter 6 of that same story, the news that the Doctor and Donna are married comes as a complete surprise to Wilf and Sylvia. I've gotten to thinking lately that this is very un-Donna and she would have at least made an attempt to tell her family, so this story is me rectifying that. If you haven't read Regarding Mrs Smith, it's a pretty self contained story so you should be fine. Let me know what you think and happy reading!

Donna was starting to think that she shouldn't act on her impulses.

The first impulse found her shagging the Doctor on a beach on an alien planet, which turned out to be in the midst of a religious festival. She had been jailed and only freed when she agreed to marry the Doctor.

Well, it hadn't been so bad.

Once she'd showered and gotten the sand out of places unmentionable and acted upon some more honeymoon relevant impulses with the Doctor, she had realized something.

"Doctor,' she said.

"Hmm?" He was smiling with his eyes closed. The man was practically glowing. Wasn't the bride supposed to be the radiant one?

"I have to go home."

His eyes widened into Bambi position, he had a look of sheer terror. "What?"

She rolled her eyes. "Not like that. We're married now, I have to tell my family, even if it's going to be a total nightmare."

He threw his head back, finally looking not so radiant.

"What?," asked Donna.

"It's just... mothers. They always slap me."

"She didn't slap you last time."

"She had an axe, though. That's worse than a slap."

"I'll hide the axe, but she's my mother."

"No." He groaned. "Next stop, Chiswick."

They landed the TARDIS down the road from the Noble house, Donna thought it might be too much to land the old girl in the sitting room at this point and God forbid one of Sylvia's knickknacks got damaged in the process, she'd never warm to the Doctor.

"Where is she?," asked the Doctor when they entered an empty house.

Donna looked at the clock in the front hall. "Only four o'clock. She must still be at work." Donna opened the cupboard and pulled out the axe. "This what you're worried about?"

"Yes! Stop waving it!"

"Ooh, I'm the Doctor, I free planets and save civilzations and I'm afraid of an axe."

"I'm not afraid, I just like this face, I don't want to have to change it if possible!"

She held it by her side. "I like your face too."

"Is that all?"

"No."

"Come on, we'll hide this in my room."

Donna led the Doctor to her bedroom. As she hid the axe deep in her cupboard, he looked around.

"Oh, look Pooh Bear!," he said, picking the object in question up off the dresser. "You know, I've met the real Winnie. She looked nothing like this and didn't seem to have a honey fixation. Liked bananas, though."

"Might make a good friend for Mister Scallofrax," Donna teased.

"Maybe..." The Doctor started looking through old cassettes. "Oh, the Housemartins, the Proclaimers, love them..."

"Met them."

The Doctor turned. "You what?"

"Got backstage at Glastonbury. I do have some womanly wiles," she said.

"I see." The Doctor cleared his throat. "And to what end might you have used those womanly wiles?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"No, strictly for scientific purposes."

Donna patted the bed next to her. "Why don't I show you?"

The Doctor's eyes darted around the room. "This is your mother's house."

"And my room."

"Yes, but she could be here any minute."

"She won't get off work until after five, then she'll have to go to the market and- Why are you fighting me over this? Get on this bed."

The Doctor sat. "Donna, I really don't-"

"Come on, it'll be the most action this room has ever seen." She kissed him and all arguments began to subside.

Then it was all a flurry of clothing being taken off, moans, mattress squeaks, more moans, the bed starting to tap against the floor. Donna briefly remembered the noise levels were the exact reason why this room had never seen any action, but that thought was overtaken by the sensation of what the Doctor was doing with that tongue of his. This all led to more noise and screams, the final scream of which was heard coming from the doorway.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Donna froze. She looked down at the Doctor who had managed to turn beet red.

All over in fact.

"Well?," Sylvia said insistently.

"Uh, be downstairs in a minute, Mum."

Sylvia didn't speak, not in English anyway. She began speaking in some sort of muttering language as she stormed off.

Donna sighed. "Okay, I can see that this is becoming a pattern with me."

They collected themselves and their clothing and headed down to the kitchen where Sylvia was cleaning furiously.

"Did you at least open the window to get the stench of sex out?," she spat.

"Mum," said Donna, "we have some news."

Sylvia scoffed. "I should say!"

"No, Mum, actually-"

Sylvia turned around. "Don't you ever stop and think about these things! You're thirty-seven! You can't waste your time fooling around with aliens! He'll just use you like all the others!"

"What?," asked the Doctor. "I would never do that to Donna. I love her."

"That's what they all say."

"Mum," said Donna, taking a breath, wondering how best to get it all out, "the Doctor and I are married."

Sylvia narrowed her gaze. "What? Oh, dear God. I need to sit."

Sylvia collapsed into the chair at the kitchen table. Donna looked to the Doctor as her mother hid her face in her hands.

"Alien. I have an alien for a son-in-law. What am I supposed to tell the girls?"

The Doctor looked at Donna. "Who are the girls?"

Donna sighed. "Mum's friends."

"Why should they care?," he asked.

"Don't get clever with me," snapped Sylvia. "I'm the only one with an unmarried daughter!"

"What about Enid?," asked Donna.

"She's got her partner, Bertha and they are having twins!"

"Oh, well, good for Enid and Bertha. Anyway," said the Doctor, "you haven't got an unmarried daughter because Donna's married to me now. What do you know? Problem solved!"

Sylvia took her hand away from her face and crossed her arms to properly glare at the Doctor. "And what should I tell them? That you're called the Doctor? You don't have a proper job, you don't have a proper house, you're an alien whose main talent seems to be getting into trouble!"

The Doctor considered it. "Well, when you put it like that, suppose so..."

Donna smacked him on the arm. "Mum, it's not all that bad and even if it was, you're just going to have to learn to deal with it because it's happened."

"Oh, well then! Everything is just grand isn't it, madame? I'll just have to learn to deal with it and skip through a meadow and pick flowers!"

Donna groaned. "I'm going to get you a glass of water. How's that sound?"

Donna went to the sink. Sylvia looked up at the Doctor.

"Any chance you might get a job?"

The Doctor shook his head. "No, not really."

"House then?"

"No, wouldn't think so."

"What about grandchildren then?"

"Mum, we just got married yesterday," said Donna, putting the glass of water down in front of her mother.

The Doctor looked at Donna. "But I mentioned them. Ginger Time Babies."

"What the hell is a ginger Time Baby?," asked Sylvia.

"Well, you know, he or she would be a Time Baby and ginger, so ginger Time Babies."

Sylvia shook her head and took a sip of her water.

Donna walked up to the Doctor. "Is this the discussion you want to have right now? In front of my mum?," she asked quietly.

"She asked about grandchildren, I want ginger Time Babies, it seems to be an area of agreement," he said. He looked over at Sylvia. "Right, Mrs. Noble?"

Sylvia frowned at him. "When did I ever say anything about grandchildren?"

"Just now when we were talking."

Sylvia snorted. "Why would I talk to you about grandchildren? Believe me, not much hope on that front."

Donna turned to Sylvia. "What do you mean not much hope? I'm not that bloody old!"

"It's not as if I see paternal candidates filing through these doors, is it?"

The Doctor frowned, turning to Donna and back to Sylvia. "I'm a candidate, though. I'm actually the only candidate."

"How are you a candidate?"

Donna steamed. "Mum. Don't be daft. You just walked in on us."

"Walked in on you what?"

"Shagging!," shouted Donna.

"Oh, hello, sweetheart!," said Wilf. "I miss something?"

Donna hid her face. "Hi, Grandad."

"Doctor, how are you? Been out there, adventuring?"

"Yeah, among other things."

"I saw no such thing," said Sylvia. She scoffed. "That's something I'm likely to remember."

Donna crossed her arms. "Are you intentionally trying to make me angry?"

"Angry about what?," asked Sylvia after she took another sip.

"You!," shouted Donna. "You're being daft about walking in on us, about the wedding-"

"Wedding? What wedding?"

"Ours!," said Donna.

"Sorry, I'm just getting used to this... stuff," said the Doctor. "Are we going to be like this all the time? Donna says something, you pretend you didn't hear it? Is it a human thing?"

"Yes," said Donna, "it's called playing bloody head games!"

"You two are married?," asked Wilf.

"Yes," said Donna. She looked squarely at her mother. "I jumped him on the beach and an alien judge in a pink wig was going to toss me in jail for three thousand years for indecent public shagging unless we got married!"

"Oh, well, a wedding's a wedding," said Wilf.

"Don't be ridiculous," said Sylvia.

"Mum, could you please stop this so we could talk about it like adults?," asked Donna.

"Stop what?"

The Doctor frowned at Sylvia and then looked at Wilf as he took a sip of water.

"THIS!," shouted Donna.

Wilf looked up at Donna. "What are we talking about?"

"Oh, not you as well, Gramps! I expect better from you."

"Donna, love, I have no idea what you're on about!"

He took another sip of water.

"The water!," shouted the Doctor.

"What?," asked Donna.

"The water! It's making them forget!"

"Forget what?," asked Sylvia.

Wilf shook his head. "This is more confusing than that show on telly where the blonde pretends to bang on the screen and shout."

The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and scanned Sylvia's glass. "Oolamu!"

"Oola-what?," asked Donna.

"Oolamu! They're parasites from the Praxis system, cause short term memory loss! They must have contaminated the water supply!"

"So, my mum's not being daft!"

"Mind your tongue, madame!," said Sylvia. She paused. "What were we talking about?"

"Right," said the Doctor, "we're going to go look at the source of the water supply, stop the parasites and come back and do this all again. Well, not that first bit, not that I mind the first bit, actually I rather liked the first bit, but, oh, never mind. You'll forget it all anyway, won't you? Come on, Donna! Allons-y!"

Five hours later, after quite a run-in with the Overlords of Praxis and flooding Downing Street by setting off several major water mains, the Doctor and Donna were back in their bedroom onboard the TARDIS. They had to change out of their drenched clothes and had helped each other with that and then they had gotten a little distracted.

A lot distracted.

Hours of distracted.

"So," said Donna, snuggling up to the Doctor, "you're sure my mum doesn't remember us shagging?"

"Absolutely. And nothing we said after that," he said, pulling the bedclothes over Donna.

"Suppose you're right. Believe me, she would have rung by now if she did." Donna sighed. "I guess we have to go back, do it all again, don't we?"

"Well, not right away," said the Doctor.

"No?"

"The effects of the parasites won't wear off for hours, maybe a day."

"So, we have to wait," said Donna, "then do it all again."

"Yeah," mused the Doctor.

There was a long silence between them where only the hum of the TARDIS could be heard.

"Maybe I haven't thought this through," said Donna, "maybe we don't have to tell them right now."

"No?"

"We need to find a way to make it palatable to her, you know?"

"That might take a while," said the Doctor.

"Well, no reason to rush it," said Donna.

"Right," said the Doctor, "we ought to take a bit of a honeymoon first at least before we get into all that human... stuff or whatever it is. Honeymoon tour of the universe? What do you think of that?"

Donna smiled. "I love that. And I love you."

"And I love you," said the Doctor.