Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to any shower gels; gorgeous ones or otherwise. Oh, and the usual not mine blah BBC blah regarding the characters.

A/N: I managed to fit in a few Greyisms in here, but unfortunately the Audi was a bit more stubborn.


Part Two

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As she stood in the shower, Donna could not believe she had arranged to meet the Doctor for possible sex. The Doctor and sex just did not equate in her mind! The Doctor and licking, maybe; or the Doctor and sniffing, yes, that definitely went with him. But sex? No, it didn't.

Except he had insisted it wouldn't be sex, it would be lovemaking. That sounded better, she had to admit. Often in the past she had considered making love with a bloke only for it to end up as merely sex; so why not approach it from the other direction? Perhaps this time her needs would be met. Yes, that would make a bloody big change!

Stepping out of the shower she caught sight of her reflection and yet again wondered what the hell she was doing? Why had she agreed so readily to this? Was she that horny? Okay, that was probably too obvious to answer. But the question was: was she doing this because she was so horny or did she genuinely fancy him that much? Did it even matter? They were going to be friends with benefits, so shouldn't she celebrate that fact?

She squared her shoulders decisively and grabbed a small towel to dry her hair. Yes, she could do this. If it worked, it worked; if it didn't then at least they had tried. No one would judge them badly. No one except her family, that is… Oh gawd! She had forgotten to ask him if he had any condoms or anything, which meant that she may have to curtail some of his enthusiasm. Why was it so easy to imagine him being extremely enthusiastic all of a sudden? Stupid question! He was enthusiastic about everything he did for the first time.

That brought up the question of how experienced he was. He must be terribly experienced after all those centuries of existence. For Pete's sake, he wasn't a monk! But from what he had said, or hadn't said, it was probably quite a long time for him to be abstinent too. Poor bloke.

With that thought in mind, she readied herself to have a quick, flurried first time with him. It would probably only take one touch and he'd blow, she resigned herself to believe. Picking up her bathrobe hanging up on a peg, she gingerly opened the door to leave and face her long awaited sexual encounter. "Please God, make it half decent," she silently prayed as she left her bathroom.


The Doctor noticed that she wasn't surprised to see him standing there, freshly tweaked, waiting for her to appear. His own shower hadn't taken very long as he had been anxious to not tarry by dealing with a particular problem. The problem being that he didn't want to ruin things by halting any further dealings. That'd be a bit embarrassing; apparently.

So he had arrived in Donna's bedroom fully aroused and trying to pretend he wasn't. In an effort to steady his excitement, he took long deep breaths, noting the smell of his shower gel. When had he started using that particular one? He'd switched permanently when he had noticed Donna's reaction to it, causing a slight increase in her pheromones.

Good grief! He had been secretly taking note of everything that attracted her attention. In reaction to that he had stopped wearing t shirts under his shirt, since she seemed to like the hint of skin. And when she had kissed him in 1926 he had tried not to take note of the fact she was ovulating, slotting that information into the data he already had about her menstrual cycle. Little had he known he would be actively using that information. As it was, he was prepared.

"Hello," he softly greeted her, and held out a hand in invitation.

She smiled coyly and took his hand, allowing him to draw her nearer. "Hello. I see you got the dress code note."

He knew she would use humour to dissipate any awkwardness. In fact he was glad about that. "Sorry I didn't provide the Chippendale look this time," he cheekily replied. "Next time I'll wear only the bow tie and cuffs."

The word 'cuffs' caused her to jerk up her head and look him in the eye. Did he mean…? No, of course not, silly! She laid a hand on his shoulder, running her fingers along the towelling that covered his collarbone. "So you want to kiss me, eh?"

His response was to wrap his arms around her waist and draw her closer to his body. "I think we should give it a go and find out how compatible we are. That makes sense."

Those eyes! She could drown in those eyes of his and die happy. "Experiment number one coming right up. I see you've brought your full tool kit."

"I'm prepared for a lot of things," he replied huskily. "And I'd have said this was experiment number four."

She frowned in confusion. How did he make it number four? And who actually cared? Sod it! "Number four it is," she whispered next to his mouth as he leaned forward to meet her.

He hesitated for a nanosecond, because this was his best friend, and she was Donna Noble. There would be pain inflicted if he messed up; there was no doubt in his mind. Another idea bubbled with excitement with that thought, but he quashed it down.

They were both ready for this. It wasn't as though it would be a stolen kiss; in fact it was carefully calculated. All attention was on this one kiss, it was a make or break situation. If it was horrible then all bets were off. Being acutely aware of that didn't help either as they tilted and turned their heads in order to line up properly.

"Ready?" he queried in a whispered breath; his hands firmly and safely on her back and her hands leant lightly on his chest, giving her the option to push him away at the instant it became unpalatable for her.

"Ready," she answered, wondering if this would be the greatest moment of her life or the stupidest idea in creation.

Still they hesitated, as unbidden thoughts assaulted their logic. This wasn't what friends do, only the foolhardy did this.

He was tempted to remind her to breathe, but that would be stupid in the circumstances. Of course she was breathing! She'd keel over if she didn't. It was the shallowness of her breathing that worried him. There needed to be a break in the tension that hung threateningly in the air; so he provided it by taking the initiative. Without any preamble, he dipped down those final millimetres and pressed briefly against her lips. He didn't stay there very long because he wanted to give her a chance to regroup her thoughts.

'Was that it?' she wondered. Was that going to be the extent he kissed her? How on earth can you judge a kiss when it is all over that quickly? Anger started to blaze through her, and she opened her mouth to complain. "Is that all…?"

She didn't get the chance to finish her question because his lips had landed on her mouth again, this time catching her unawares, and open. Open enough to feel the tip of his tongue as it pushed forward to taste her bottom lip. It slid along, relishing the plump fullness, before returning to do the same to the top one. It encouraged her to try and do the same to his mouth, but that tongue of his was on a mission; a mission to capture as much as it could.

Not that she wanted him to stop; oh no. Her hands caressed their way up onto his shoulders, over his neck and up into his hair, massaging his scalp as they went. They were acting very wantonly. His hands were being very chaste in comparison. Or they were…

Their heads moved position to allow greater access, their tongues gliding over each other and sucking in equal amounts. As this happened his hands began to also move; first all over her back, into her hair to hold her head in place and then down, to mould her bottom onto him, pressing her lower torso against his body, letting her feel how aroused and ready he was. She never noticed the ties around her waist coming undone or the flaps of her dressing gown being opened; she only became aware that some of her bare flesh was being crushed against loads of his bare skin.

Their kiss broke and their attention wandered to smoothing back dressing gowns off shoulders and totally off the body in front of them, leaving mainly unadorned flesh. Then hands were back on heads to bring their lips together in a heady rush. Those kisses had to be recovered, built on and superseded. That mouth had to be claimed.

Hungrily they continued kissing as passion flared. Oxygen was hastily sucked in as they broke contact momentarily to change position once more, as they almost attempted to crawl inside one another.

Who knows where this would have led to, but unfortunately they began to topple sideways, and the kiss was hastily stopped while they sought to steady themselves.

They blazed lustfully at each other, not knowing which step to take next.

"Well, Spaceman? Did you like the kiss?" she managed to ask after she gained her breath.

He panted lightly, gazing down under his heavily lidded eyes. "I think the experiment went well. But any good experiment should be tested for its validity."

"You what?" She looked blankly at him, wondering the fek he was on about.

"Any decent experiment can be repeated with the same results," he explained. Except it didn't look as though he wanted to repeat it second by second as his attention had slipped further south and was now concentrated on her cleavage.

"I think that would count as number five," she intoned, bringing his attention back up to her face.

"What?" he faintly asked.

She jiggled her breasts to make her point. "I get the impression that you like these."

"Like is too mild a name for it. I love your erm… your… whatever you want me to call them," he told her.

"Doctor, they are called breasts. Even you ought to know that one!" she huffed.

"I know!" he whined. "But you might have wanted me to use a different name; like 'boobs', 'bristols' or 'jubblies' for all I know."

"In case you haven't noticed, Doctor; I am a grown woman who can use the correct word for things. So these…" She then pointed at her chest with an angry motion. "..are called breasts, and hardly anything else."

"I bet you don't use the correct word for this," he trilled triumphantly as he pointed down at himself.

"What you call your dick is totally up to you; but from here it looks like a caterpillar," she fumed.

"A what?" he asked brokenly, and looked down at himself. "I was hoping you'd find my penis quite outstanding; especially a woman of your experience."

That did it! "A woman of my experience? What the hell do you take me for? I am not a prostitute that trades at Kings Cross, for god's sake! Or anywhere else for that matter. I have had a fraction of the sex a married woman of my age would've had, but for some reason that makes me a tart! Well fuck you, mister!"

"Donna, I didn't mean it like that," he tried to defend himself, but she was on a tyrannical roll now.

"Then what did you mean? Because I'm getting no good will vibes here. If you don't like what you see, you can piss off," she ranted.

"Donna," he said softly. "Please; this is my first time doing this."

She gasped in surprise. "You've never…?"

His frightened eyes said it all. "No."