The couple had begun exploring the finer details of each other's dental work on the Doctor's bed when another bad idea popped in the Time Lord's head.
Imaginary devil on the left shoulder: Do it. Do it. You know you want to. Drive her out of her skull crazy for you.
Imaginary angel on the right: No! She's already crazy enough for you, and crazy enough in general. Just enjoy this.
Devil: Or prolong the pleasure. Very short sighted view that the other side's offering. *A cackle.* I wonder if he picked that up from me.
Angel: That would be so rude and inconsiderate, to lead that poor woman to think you're about to make love and then…
Devil: Oi, goody two shoes, this ain't love making, this is some deliciously dirty shagging that's about to happen. There's a difference. *A seductive whisper.* It doesn't mean as much. You know the two of you can't resist each other, it'll happen soon enough. Plus, you didn't specify in the rules of "Hands" that you couldn't do other things, could you?
Angel: *Gives a dramatic, disapproving sigh.*
Devil: No response? Checkmate.
The Doctor slowly pulled away from Donna. She tried to suck him back into a kiss. He resisted.
"Oi, what's this rubbish, Doctor?" she frowned.
"Well…I never said that we HAD to be fooling around while we were playing "Hands," now did I?" He grinned cheekily. "And besides, weren't you the one who was just calling me grabby? You should be happy that I'm listening to you, Donna. I'm focusing on improving my self control."
Donna's frown grew. "We still playing that stupid game? And You listen to me, you prat, get back here and keep kissing me!"
He slowly stepped away from the bed, relishing the control he'd never before had over the redhead. "Nah…I've got to make some repairs to the TARDIS, now I think about it."
"Well…alright, then!" Donna snapped and sniffed. "See if it matters to me! I went quite a long time without wanting you, I'm sure I can go back to that easily."
"As can I." The Doctor held his head high. The war between the most stubborn couple in the universe had begun.
Everything else was completely fine between them for the next few days. They still laughed and joked like usual. It was true, they'd both gone months denying their feelings towards each other, and had successfully fought off any urges to do things that wouldn't cross the mind of two people who were "just mates." By the third day, however, their respective resolves were wavering. It didn't help that the universe insisted on leaving them to their own devices-For once, they didn't have to run to save something or someone.
After they'd visited an art gallery in outer space, Donna decided a bit of fun was in order. "Time to show that ignorant alien just what he's missing out on."
"Cracking first, are we?" she asked herself.
"Yeah, and I'm damn fine with it." If his kisses were any indication, the Doctor would be more than able to…help her with certain…things. At the moment, he was in the kitchen, trying to figure out what to make for lunch. Donna went over to the thermostat on the TARDIS and whispered, "Hey, dear, could you maybe, accidentally, turn the heat up to about 85 or so?"
The TARDIS, sensing Donna's intentions, tilted to the right. The dial on the thermostat slid upward.
"And could you possibly, if it's not too much trouble, make the problem a bit difficult to solve for him?"
A spring popped out of the device. The TARDIS had missed Donna something dreadful, and was more than happy to aid her in pulling a prank on the Doctor.
"Oh, you are amazing," Donna beamed.
"Hey, lunch is ready! Hope you like stir fry," the Doctor called.
"Yeah, good call, mate." After a few minutes, the Doctor popped up to refill his water glass. "Gee…is it just me, or is it awfully hot in here?" he remarked, removing his suit jacket.
"Yeah, it's a bit warm," Donna agreed, stifling a smile.
"I'll go turn down the thermostat." He went over to it, then groaned.
"Something wrong, Doctor?"
"Yeah, it's in a state of total disrepair. Don't know when this happened, it was fine when I checked it a few days ago. Oh well, nothing the sonic screwdriver can't handle…" He zapped the thermostat. Nothing. He tried again. Still broken. Temperature in the TARDIS rising.
"This might take a bit more work than I thought," he frowned.
"Well, since we're now living in a sauna, I'm going to get changed before I have a heat stroke." Donna flounced off to her room in search of an outfit that would further sear the Doctor's blood. Considering her new relationship with the alien, she'd packed a hell of a lot less conservatively than the first go round with him. After rummaging through one of her suitcases for a few minutes, she dug out a pair of jean shorts, a green, short sleeved, button down shirt, and a push up bra. "I think this should get his attention."
"Get his attention? I'll be shocked if he doesn't drool on himself," she scoffed. For good measure, she tied a knot in the top at her navel, took another glance in the mirror to reassure herself that she really did look as good as she imagined, and sauntered back out to the center of the TARDIS. The Doctor, focused on repairing the ship's cooling system, didn't turn around to look at her, but he'd heard her door shut. "Hey, Donna, do me a favor and see if you can adjust the temperature down now?"
"Sure, Doctor. Anything for you."
"Man, the heat must really be taking your head for a trip," he laughed to himself. "There's no way that Donna's trying to sound flirty…" He looked up, about to do…something…staring at Donna's curvy backside counted as something, right?
"Absolutely!" his body screamed.
She turned around with a delightful wiggle and simpered, "So, anything else you need me to do?"
What he said (or rather, stuttered): "N-no, you're…fine."
What he thought: "Yeah, could you please stand there for a bit longer? I'd like to permanently lodge this image into my head, thanks." Hell, he'd settle for one piece of the image: Her gorgeous face, framed by her messy hair. Her ample chest straining against the top two or three buttons on her shirt. Her legs, long as a highway, in cut off jean shorts.
She went back to the kitchen, praying that she wouldn't burst out laughing. She was convinced that, at the moment, she could mow the alien down with an assault rifle and that sappy look would probably stay on his face til he regenerated.
"Resist me, my arse!" she laughed, then glanced backwards. "Speaking of my arse, damn, does he ever enjoy checking it out." She grabbed a half eaten pint of cookie dough ice cream out of the freezer and sat down at the kitchen table. "Might as well cool off and distract him at the same time."
The Doctor, in his defense, made a valiant effort to fix the faulty electrical system, but it kept confounding him at every turn. He took off his tie and rolled up his sleeves. Now, if he could pinpoint the problem, narrow it down to one specific spot, it would be-
"Mmmm!" A lengthy moan came from the kitchen.
Normally, nothing short of an explosion or death could drag him away from his beloved TARDIS when she was in distress. For some unknown reason, he felt compelled to see what had happened to Donna.
"Oh my GOD, this ice cream is heavenly." Her eyes fluttered shut, and she ran a cookie dough chunk around on her tongue. She opened one eye. "Doctor? You okay? Surviving the heat alright?"
"Yeah, I'm managing," he mumbled, trying (and failing) to direct his gaze at anything besides his voluptuous mate.
"You sure? Want some ice cream?"
"No thanks…don't think we've got any cle-clean spoons. And I don't want to run the dishwasher right now when it's not full and waste water," he rambled on. "And…oh darn, we're out of dish soap. Guess I'll have to live without it." He shrugged his shoulders.
"Don't be silly, I can clean this." Donna slid the spoon around in her mouth, sucking on it lovingly, staring dead into the Doctor's eyes. She gave a satisfied "SMACK!" as she pulled it out. "Think I did okay? Cleaning it, I mean."
He bit down on the inside of his mouth to keep from screaming, "Holy SHIT!" Instead, he nodded his way out of his daze. "Yep. I gotta go fix…the thing."
"Of course," she nodded, then retreated back to the fridge for something else.
The Doctor mentally whipped himself back into his normal state. "Get a grip on yourself. She's just flirting with you. No big deal, nothing you haven't seen before."
"Actually, that's a LOT of Donna you haven't seen before."
He shook his head. "Whatever, you can handle it for at least another day." An inspired thought struck him. "Hell, you survived Martha just fine, didn't you?"
"Yeah, cause Martha's no ginger goddess with gravity defying breasts and a perky backside…" he dryly responded.
"Oi, not helping! Just focus on the TARDIS. Good old thing's in trouble, she needs you, she needs you to have a clear head so you can fix her, and then Donna can stop torturing you."
He stuck to his plan for a solid three minutes. Being a bit of a genius, that short window was enough time to get the TARDIS almost completely repaired. Unfortunately, Donna picked that time to pop back into view at the kitchen table. "It is just so hot!" she complained. Seemingly lost in her own world (or was it the Doctor's head? She was suddenly spending even more time than normal in there), she slid an ice cube across her forehead.
"Don't look up, don't look up," the Doctor chanted to himself. He looked up. He had to watch her, like one had to watch a train wreck. An unbelievably sexy train wreck.
"I really hope I don't give the dumbo a heart attack." Donna considered not going through with her show. "Eh, he'll survive…barely." Pretending like the Doctor was still consumed by his work, she ran the ice cube down her cheek and along the nape of her neck, her breath hitching in pleasure as her nerves froze.
"Get back to work!" the Time Lord's brain shouted impatiently. He shut it off.
The ice started melting as it rolled along Donna's collarbone, and plummeted to its death along the curve of her right breast. She rubbed the tiny, remaining bit of wetness into her cleavage. Her eyes opened like she was exiting a dream. She glanced around at her surroundings before her gaze fell on the lovesick puppy. "Doctor, why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my shirt?"
He shook his head mutely, banged something on the bottom of the TARDIS console, and was never happier to feel a blast of cold air in his life.
"Oh, you got it fixed, wonderful! I can go change out of this, then." She smiled and retreated to her room as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.