Disclaimer: Still not mine.

Donna Noble couldn't sleep.

After everything that had happened this Christmas Day – her supposed-to-have-been wedding day – her mind was just too full and her heart too broken for her to even consider sleeping. Since the moment she'd stepped back inside her house after watching the Doctor disappear in his brilliant blue box, her hair sopping wet from melted snow and shivers shaking her body, the questions had not stopped.

Where have you been? What happened? Where's Lance? What do you mean he's 'gone'? What about the wedding? Do you even know what scandal you caused? What are you going to do now? Are you listening to me? What. Are. You. Going. To. Do?

She'd been lucky to escape her mother's inquisition mostly unscathed, but she hadn't been able to dodge the hurt in her father's eyes. She knew she'd let them down today, knew she was hurting them by not answering their questions, but how could she? There was no way to explain to them what had happened. The moment she started mentioning aliens and giant spiders she was sure they'd have her committed. After all, the truth was absolutely barmy, and if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she wouldn't have believed it.

But now, after taking some time to herself for well-deserved cry and a much-needed shower, Donna emerged from her bedroom to find that her family had all given up and gone to bed. Just as well, for it was nearly midnight and she really didn't feel like facing them again.

Quietly, she padded down the stairs in her pajamas and slippers, heading for the kitchen. Perhaps a cup of tea would help settle her down, calm her nerves if nothing else. She rounded the corner and was surprised to see a soft glow already emanating from the kitchen. She panicked for a moment, not knowing who else was up, and tiptoed closer, ready to run should it prove to be her mother. Donna poked her head around the doorway just enough to see who was there and immediately relaxed once she realized who it was.

"Gramps?" she asked, drawing her robe a bit tighter around her. "What're you doing up?"

"Just making a bit of hot cocoa," he smiled at her, waving the whisk in his right hand in the direction of a chair, gesturing for her to sit. "Didn't feel quite like sleep yet and wanted a little something hot before bed."

Donna pulled out a kitchen chair and propped her elbows on the tabletop, resting her chin in her hands. "Sounds good to me."

"Just the ticket on a cold night. And it's a shame to have Chirstmas without cocoa, innit?" Wilf turned away for a moment, turning off the stove and pulling two mugs out of a cupboard. He carefully filled them each with the steaming liquid and crossed the kitchen to take a seat across from her.

Donna took one of the mugs and sat it in front of her, wrapping her fingers around it to absorb its warmth. "Smells good."

"It's my secret recipe. Your grandmother always said I made the best hot chocolate of anyone she ever met. Said it was part of the reason she stayed with me all those years, bless her."

Donna chuckled with him, shaking her head.

"There we are," he grinned at her. "First real smile I've seen all day. And what a day it's been."

Her smile faded as his words hung between them. She heard the unspoken question in his statement, but couldn't quite bring herself to say anything. She wanted to be able to tell him, and she knew that out of everyone he would be the most likely to believe her, but she just couldn't. It was just too mad.

"Gramps…" she began. "A lot of things happened today – a lot of strange things – and I…"

"Hush," Wilf waved her off gently. "I know that you're not ready to talk about it just yet. And I know there's more to the story than you're letting on. But that's not important. When you're ready to talk about what happened, I hope that you'll tell me. I'll listen to you, sweetheart, but only when you want to share. Deal?"

Donna's eyes welled with tears and her throat grew thick as she tried to swallow them down. "Okay," she managed, voice cracking. "Thanks, Gramps."

"Anytime, my love," he reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart."

"Merry Christmas to you too, Gramps. Merry Christmas."

And for the first time, she actually believed that it was.

A/N: It occurred to me that I may not be able to post here every day, so I wanted to give you the option of finding the fics as they become available on my blog, so you can check out my profile to grab that link, since it won't let me post it here.

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