Note: Throughout the story I will occasionally make a Big Finish reference, but I've kept it to three total adventures. The two-part Blood of the Daleks is one. Horror of Glam Rock is the second, and The Vengence of Moribus is the last. One note: the last is the cliffhanger for the second run of Eight and Lucie adventures, so I'd hold off on that one until you've caught up a bit. Not like I did...

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Chapter Three: Rooftop Exchanges

Donna looked at her watch. Just gone half eleven. Too late. So she couldn't even think about what was happening behind her. They were on some high rise rooftop in London. She had no idea where.

She vaguely heard the Doctor coughing and spluttering, and the sound of a fire extinguisher as he battled the smoke billowing from inside. "It's all right, Old Girl," she heard. "You'll be fine. Just rest for a while."

Only when it was all calmed did he put down the extinguisher and join Donna. "The old girl does a lot of amazing things, even more so for a spaceship, but flying within a planet's atmosphere isn't one of her strengths. She'll need a couple of hours to heal and be flight capable again."

She had no reaction. Just kept staring out over the skyline.

The Doctor stilled. After seeing her so animated earlier, seeing her so empty felt wrong. "Are you all right?"

She shrugged. "Doesn't matter," she said quietly.

"This might be a daft question, but... did we miss it?"

"Yeah."

"Well, can you book another date?"

"Course we can," she muttered.

"Don't you still have the honeymoon?"

"It's just a holiday now."

"Oh... yes... sorry." He looked in the same direction she was, taking his cues from her. "Look, I'm out of my depth here. Never dealt with anything like this before, and I've seen a lot of things."

She glanced at him, for once gently. "It's not your fault."

The Doctor smiled. "Thank you. Now I remember why I bother with you lot."

Donna sighed, and had to comment, "Didn't you say she's a time machine? Then we could go back and get it right as soon as she's ready."

He shook his head firmly. "Donna, I can't go back on someone's personal timeline. I've done it before, and it's always been bad. I'll only do it if the alternative is worse. And I don't want to experience that again. Last time I had to let my companion think I'd died."

Donna narrowed her eyes at the Doctor, trying to tell whether he was messing with her. But she didn't want to worry about it, and so she moved to sit on the edge of the roof. Only her diving experience kept her from feeling nervous about it, and as bad as her day had been she was not going to give her detractors the satisfaction of completely giving up.

He saw her shiver, and shook his head. How very Human for them to not dress warmly enough. But he felt sorry for her, and so he took off the satchel so he could remove his jacket. "Here," he said, draping it around her shoulders. "Don't want you freezing."

She was startled. "Oh. Thanks." As he sat beside her, she sniffed the lapels. "Weird. You aren't a big man, but I wouldn't say that this wouldn't fit a rat."

"A rat wouldn't choose to wear clothes," he replied. He frowned as he recalled something important. "I need something to keep you safe from those creatures," he remarked, digging into his pockets. "They can trace you. Ah-ha!"

Donna scowled when he produced what looked like a wedding ring. "Oh, do you have to rub it in?"

He was patient. "This is a bio-damper. It should keep you hidden. May I?" he asked, holding his free hand out to her left.

She thought a moment, and sighed as she offered her hand.

He carefully and gently placed it into place, looking her in the eyes the whole time. "With this ring, I thee bio-damp," he said, gently teasing.

She had to smile at his little antic. "For better or for worse."

The Doctor smiled at her. "There, now. I knew you had it into you to give a lovely smile."

Donna laughed and drew her hand back. "So, come on then. Robot Santas - what are they for?"

He knew a deflection when he heard it. He was gifted at them himself. "Oh, they're your basic robo-scavenger. The Father Christmas stuff is just a disguise. They're trying to blend in. I've met them a few times, including last Christmas."

"Why, what happened then?"

He looked back at her and blinked. "You mean you missed the great big spaceship hovering over London?"

She flinched and looked away. "I had a bit of a hangover," she hedged.

The Doctor shook his head and exhaled quietly. "I still don't understand Humans sometimes. Getting yourselves so sloshed that you miss potentially important events. What's the point?"

"Oi," she muttered, not feeling the urge to challenge him with more force than that.

"But the important question is, what do camouflaged robot mercenaries want with you? And how did you get inside the TARDIS if my people weren't responsible for it?" he asked aloud as he contemplated her.

Donna rolled her eyes. He was going to be all Spaceman and she was going to have to quiet him somehow.

He reached into his jacket pocket. "Sorry, I need the medical probe," he promptly said, guessing a slap might be in his future otherwise. "I won't touch anything that doesn't concern me. What's your job?"

"I'm a secretary," she said as he began scanning her.

"Any specialties? Work for anyone really important?"

"Shorthand, typing, dictation. I type 150 words per minute, and I know the Dewey system, backwards. Not that I need that at H C Clements. I'm in the pool."

"Well, that rules out working directly for someone important. And what does H C Clements do?" he added as he drew it away to listen to the readings again.

Her eyes narrowed at the probe. "Oh, security systems, you know... entry codes, ID cards - that sort of thing. If you ask me, it's a posh name for 'locksmiths'."

"Keys..." he mused as he shook his head, speaking absentmindedly. "I don't understand. This is weird and I deal in weird all the time. I mean, you're not powerful, you've got no connections to powerful figures on Earth, you're not important by any meaningful definition of the word to any other species. And I'm not yet seeing a specialness that would matter outside your friends and family. So why were you targeted?"

She noticed that he meant no insult, but the words were too close for comfort. "These friends of yours you mentioned – just before they left, did any of them punch you in the face? Stop bleeping me!" she snapped, raising her hand as he raised the probe again.

He sighed. "Okay, okay, okay," he said as he put the probe away just as carefully as he drew it out. "How did you get the job?"

His tone mollified her enough that she relaxed into telling her story. "I was temping. I arrived on my first day to be placed in a crowded, open-plan office space. I mean, it was all a bit posh really. I'd spent the last two years at a double glazing firm. Well, I thought - I'm never gonna fit in here. And that's when I met Lance. We met eyes from across the office, and then he made me a coffee. I mean, that just doesn't happen. Nobody gets the secretaries a coffee. And Lance - he's the head of HR! He don't need to bother with me! But he was nice, he was funny."

The Doctor listened to her, watching her come alive as she recalled the events that led her to today. She was engaging when she wasn't angry, he decided. Maybe she would make a good companion, if she weren't getting married.

"And it turns out he thought everyone else was really snotty too. So that's how it started, me and him - one cup of coffee. That was it."

"So when was this?"

"Six months ago."

He was puzzled. "Sounds a bit quick, to get married that soon in this age. Don't most people want more time together first? At least that's what I understand."

She hesitated. "Well... he insisted," she claimed. She was lost in the memories of those moments trying to persuade Lance. "And he nagged... and he nagged me... And he just wore me down and then finally, I just gave in."

He noticed the shifty look in her eyes and he waited until she looked close enough in his direction to notice his focus. "Are you lying to me?"

"You what?!" she blurted.

The Doctor narrowed his eyes. "Donna, I have lived a long time. I might still be ignorant of a lot of Human habits and patterns, but I can tell that there's more to the story. Your hesitation suggests that maybe you're not telling me the whole account. If I'm to protect you from those creatures and to figure out what they want with you, I can't afford to be lied to. Not even slightly."

Donna winced and thought about it. At length she groaned. "Fine! I nagged him. There, are you happy? You know my dirty secret."

"I wouldn't say it makes me happy. If anything it makes me feel sorry for you. Why would a beautiful woman need to nag a man into marrying her?"

She gave him a look like she thought he was stupid. "Have you even noticed what colour my hair is?"

"Yes, you have this unique shade of ginger. Reminds me of some of the most beautiful sights in the universe."

The honest look and implication that he thought her being beautiful was a matter of fact not opinion gave her pause, and she had to think to remember her usual tirade. "Well, people on Earth haven't liked gingers much for a long while. I can't remember a time in school when I wasn't teased about it."

"What is it about you Humans, being so fixed on physical characteristics and assigning value to them?"

"If I knew what started it, I might be able to do something about it, dumbo."

"I still don't have an answer."

She didn't care to answer, but she knew he would insist. Something about him seemed like he didn't forget about something readily. "Well, the dislike is enough that no one's ever been interested enough to want me for anything other than practice. Lance was the first to treat me well. Anyway, enough of my CV. Come on, it's time to face the consequences." Her face fell into her hands briefly. "Oh, this is gonna be so shaming. You can do the explaining, Martian-boy."

He had a tiny smile on his face. "Donna, I'm not from Mars and I'm obviously not a boy."

Donna smirked. "I'm not taking it back. Not unless you show me if there really are Martians."

"Would be difficult. They're no longer living in your age, and they were very secretive. So! Shall we go and ensure your family and fiancée know you're safe?"

"Okay."

The Doctor stood and lent her his hands to help her up. "There we go! Oh, keep my jacket for the moment. We might have a little wait getting a ride to the church," he said as he put the satchel back on.

"No, we should go on to the reception site," she said as they walked. "There was another wedding scheduled after us, so they would have to leave by now anyway. Oh, I had this great big reception all planned. Everyone's gonna be heartbroken."

"No, they'll be happy you're safe! What could they be doing other than fretting about you?"