A/N: No, I couldn't think of a name. Yes, it will happen again.
Donna loved waking up next to the Doctor. The travelling was great, of course. The running, the adventuring and the exploring. But there was something about the quiet moments, just the two of them on the TARDIS, that made her really realize how lucky she was.
The faint morning light coming in through the window was her only indicator that it was time to get up, for she and the Doctor were tangled up so close that she didn't dare try to turn around to look at her alarm clock. At some point during the night he'd managed to tuck himself into her side, his head nestled in the crook of her shoulder, his legs intertwined with hers and one arm looped around her middle. He was heavy for a person of his skinniness, and the weight of his body against hers was oddly comforting, warm and secure, anchoring her. She could feel his cool breath on her skin, and the slow double-beat of his hearts against her chest. They might as well have merged into one person, for all she cared.
Smiling, she wrapped one arm around his back and one around the back of his neck and hugged him just a bit closer; he was truly one of the most ridiculous people she'd ever met, and she hadn't been surprised to find that it transferred into his sleeping habits as well. He was usually awake far before she was—mornings like this were a rarity. Besides being an alien who only needed a couple hours of sleep a night, he was also a bit of an insomniac, and often had difficulty getting even that much rest. But the poor Martian had been exhausted by the time she'd finally convinced him to come to bed, and he must've slept through the night for once. He still thought she didn't know what a softie he was in sleep.
As if her thoughts had jinxed it, the Doctor shifted restlessly, nuzzling closer for a moment before he became aware of himself and rolled onto his back, stretching leisurely.
"Morning," he mumbled, a soft and crooked smile spreading across his face at the sight of her.
"Morning," she replied, relishing the opportunity to take in the disheveled, unguarded Doctor she so rarely got to see. His wild hair stuck up in random directions, no longer carefully tousled, his eyes were still hooded and drowsy, and his shirt had ridden up to expose a sliver of his slim waist and sharp hipbones. When she reached out to brush her fingers across his cheek, she felt the slightest hint of stubble, and grinned.
"What're you smiling about?" said the Doctor, even as he shifted closer to her, leaning into her touch.
"Oh, nothing," Donna murmured, moving her hand to tease her fingers through his hair. He made an appreciative noise in the back of his throat, his eyes falling closed once more as she continued. Then they popped open, and he sat up.
"Blimey, what time is it?" he asked, casting a glance behind her at the alarm clock.
Donna shrugged.
"I've been asleep for hours," he said, almost incredulous.
"That's how it works, yeah."
"Bloody waste of time, sleep," he muttered, tossing the blanket aside as he made to get up. "Anyways, I'll be in my study, I suppose, just as soon as I've dressed and all, whenever you like you can–"
Donna stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Stay?" she requested. He hesitated, and she gave him her best Innocent Little Human look. "Please?"
He managed to hold his resolve a second longer, then sighed, relaxing as the energy drained from his body. "Oh, alright," he grumbled, feigning resignation. "If you insist."
But the way he crawled back under the covers with a fond little smile, curling right back up to her side, told her he wasn't too put out about it.