Disclaimer: Doctor Who isn't mine. If it was things would be quite different. The BBC owns all and I bow before them.

A/N: This is based off a tumblr prompt for a fic with real plot, no sense, just a companion coming across the Doctor and Rose shagging. I played with the prompt a bit (it's traumatic enough for Donna as it is, she really doesn't want to see anymore of the Doctor, lol) and AU for obvious reasons. First time writing Donna… or anything like this. A bit cracky too, at least to my way of thinking. Many thanks to TenRose4ever for a quick look over and input.


Secondhand Embarrassment

Donna Noble swayed back and forth to the music in her iPod as she searched the TARDIS pantry for the right ingredients. Today was Rose Tyler's birthday and she was going to bake her a cake this year that didn't explode. All ingredients were accounted for except sugar. Dumbo had probably used the last of it in his tea, she mused.

With a sigh, Donna headed toward the console room. The last time she had seen the Doctor, he had been tinkering under the grating. Stepping inside she stifled a gasp. Oh no.

No, no, no, no, no!

The Doctor was in the console room alright… and so was Rose. Her friend was leaning against the console (wasn't that uncomfortable with all those buttons and levers?!), head thrown back and the Doctor was on his knees before her, pulling her knickers down with his teeth because his hands were tied with a red ribbon behind his shirtless back. And there was a bow on his head.

Not only did she not want to see that, she did not want to know.

Donna averted her eyes, cursing the blaring music that clearly had to be blocking out the noises that would've told her to stay away. She had a steady stock of earplugs in her bedroom for this very reason; she knew what those two were like and how loud they could be. At least she couldn't hear them.

And that was the moment her playlist ended and the sounds of the console room filled her ears as the Doctor apparently got right to it.

A throaty groan. "Roooose."

An answering moan. "Doc – yesss," that trailed off into nothing.

Donna turned for the door… the door that always creaked. Creaked loudly when pushed out rather than in. Even in the throes of passion, she knew there was no way the lovebirds wouldn't hear that.

Bloody hell. Donna raised her eyes to the ceiling and glared at the TARDIS coral.

This was not her fault. Just because she had told the Doctor she'd be in the kitchen for a few hours and to keep Rose out of it did not mean she had to stay there!

Donna turned to leave, let them hear her dammit (they were the ones doing it out in the open after all), and promptly tripped. Rose's top and the Doctor's jacket and oxford lay discarded on the floor beneath her feet and there was a skirt nearby. At least the clothing had muffled the sound of her fall and her friends were oblivious to her dilemma.

It might be Rose's day but it certainly wasn't hers. Donna disentangled herself and looked around her to ensure she wouldn't stumble again. She suddenly got another glimpse of the console as her eyes swept the space around her.

In her peripheral vision, she saw Rose's fingers stop in the Doctor's hair (the bow was now on the grating next to the knickers), and her body start to shudder as he enthusiastically explored her folds with his tongue.

RETREAT!

She shoved her shoulder into the door and plowed into the hallway. The TARDIS, mercifully, kept the door from creaking and the last thing she heard before it closed was a shout of DOCTOR! and a rather smug sounding "Happy Birthday, Rose."

Time to go bleach her eyes and pop in her ear plugs. She'd worry about the sugar later.

end