Part Six
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After a bit of a struggle, Donna used a gravity aided swerve to deposit the Doctor onto the single bed that took up most of the room in the spare bedroom, aka the box room. She smiled down at his prone body, pleased with her accomplishment. "There you go. All sorted. Get yourself undressed while I find a bowl, just in case you feel sick, and a large glass of water for you," she kindly ordered.
"I won't need them, Donna," he confidently assured her with a grin. He pointed a finger into his chest as he boasted, "Time Lord. My metabolism is superior to most species. A short sleep and all this alcohol will be out of my system."
"Are you really a Time Lord?" she scoffed. "I never knew that. You'd have thought you would have bothered to mention it to me by now."
She left him frowning in confusion, and she couldn't help giggling when he muttered to himself, "I'm sure I said it. Didn't I? Yes, I did, at least once in Pompeii."
Five minutes later she reappeared by his temporary bed, holding a large plastic bowl in one hand and a glass litre tankard filled with fresh cold water in the other. Fortunately, he had changed out of his clothing, she noted, saving her from that unwanted task. There's looking after your man, and then there's looking after your man as though he's a baby. Out of the two, she preferred the former, given a choice.
"Here you go," she cheerily declared as she placed the items by the top end of the bed where his head rested. "If you are sick, for God's sake aim for the bowl or I shall never hear the end of it. Ever. And drink some of this if you can't manage all of it," she insisted, tapping the water glass. "You'll feel the benefits in the morning."
"Morning?" he pathetically queried, gazing up at her with those puppy dog eyes he had perfected.
"Yes," she slowly and patronisingly drawled. "The wedding you were going on about earlier. It helps if you drink the water to prevent yourself from keeling over at the altar, or whatever you call the table thing they'll have."
"Will you be there?" he wondered.
"If you're lucky," she took great delight in saying.
"Does that luck run to you getting in here with me?" he invited.
She looked towards the bedroom door of her mother, hoping she wasn't listening in. "Not tonight. But if you're really good, we might be able to arrange something for tomorrow."
Satisfied, he laid back down beneath his covers. "Donna, before you go," he pleaded to halt her retreat from the room, "I just wanted to say…"
Leaning closer, she asked, "What?"
To her surprise, he grabbed her hand possessively. "Thank you for agreeing to marry me. You save me in so many ways. Did you know that? And I promise I'll be the husband you deserve."
"Will you now?" She lifted her eyebrow in disbelief.
"I will," he fervently vowed, and pulled her nearer. "But I have to ask you something? Something I need to whisper because I'm not sure your mum would understand."
"Okay, you've got my interest now," she commented and knelt down for him to gain some secrecy. "What is it you wanted to say?"
He brought his lips to her ear and whispered, "Are you expecting sex?"
"Doctor!" she exclaimed, and then shushed herself. "We'll also discuss that tomorrow," she cagily replied, tucking in the bedclothes around his neck to make sure he didn't suddenly leap out. "Daft Martian. I know what brought this on. Take no notice of what them lot were saying earlier. It's all part of the pre-wedding teasing and doesn't really mean anything. More like an initiation ceremony into the Marrieds Club, I suppose. There's nothing to worry about. Alright?"
"I'm always alright," he immediately answered.
"So you've said," she accepted, remembering that moment in The Library; and patted his shoulder. "Night night. Sleep tight. I'll see you bright and early."
"Bright and early," he sleepily repeated and then shut his eyes.
After placing a fond kiss on his cheek, she made her way to her own bedroom.
o0o
A couple of hours later, a healing sleep had done the trick of working the alcohol through his system; but there was another reason why he didn't usually bother to drink the stuff. It had unwanted effects upon his psyche. Ones that he could do well without.
After suffering and tossing about despondently for quite some time, the Doctor clambered out of his makeshift bed and headed for his fiancée. Nobody else was awake in the house at that ungodly hour, so he considered the risks of being found were worth the comfort he could gain.
Even if he had not known which door led to her room, he'd have easily found it by following her scent. Having cast a cautious eye abut to make sure he hadn't been seen, he slipped quietly into her bedroom.
"Donna," he softly but urgently whispered in the gloom.
In seconds she was sitting up in bed peering at him standing in his nightwear just inside her bedroom doorway. "Doctor, what's the matter? You'll get me shot if Mum finds you in here like this."
"Ah, sorry, so sorry," he hesitated, toying with the bottom edges of the front of his pyjama jacket. "Well, you see, I need you."
She would have dismissed him with a pithy reply but even in the glow from the street lamps outside she could detect the hint of tears in his eyes. "Has something upset you?" she gently queried instead.
It was enough sympathy to propel him forward, to the edge of her bed and the waiting promise within. "I was just thinking about what your mother said about me… when we announced our engagement, and then my thoughts wandered on to Jenny…" A sob broke up from his chest and through his mouth, shuddering his words to a halt in his throat.
"You shouldn't have drunk so much. It acts like a depressant," she correctly guessed, and threw back her covers in invitation.
She'd been through similar with him after Jenny died, and when they'd first got back home to the TARDIS after the events on Midnight. Those nights full of sobs and crying would haunt her forever.
"Please," he begged like a lost child, but she was already unbuttoning her pyjama jacket at her waist.
The unbuttoning stopped short of her revealing her breasts but exposed her stomach for his waiting attention.
"Aw. Come here," she offered; so he quickly removed his pyjama jacket.
She was not surprised in the slightest when he also took off his pyjama trousers, leaving him in just his underpants before he climbed into the bed, taking the spot beside her. The heat her body gave off was too much for him to cope with, was his usual complaint; and he gave this as the reason for the removal of his clothing. But there was no such mention of his naturally lower body temperature this time and his actions were silent except for his unbidden sighs.
As before when he'd laid in her bed, he placed his naked stomach against hers, desperately needing skin to skin contact, but it wasn't a lovers embrace he sought, despite being as intimate. Instead, he practically curled up in her lap like an oversized kitten, waiting for her to smooth her hands over his back and tenderly caress the sensitive area on his neck. With practised ease, she calmed the last of his trembling sobs until he lay in a trancelike state, on the edge of sleep, gently purring.
"My poor Spaceman," she sympathetically murmured as she stroked her fingers through his hair to massage his scalp. "So much pain and hurt. Let me take it all away for a while."
Expecting an answer, she was completely surprised when he remained quiet. Lifting his fringe out of the way, it was possible to see that he'd fallen fast asleep within her embrace, and she marvelled at this wonderful gift the universe had given her. It was the role of a lifetime.
Her place was now by his side offering comfort and unconditional love. It didn't matter that their relationship was platonic rather than the grand romantic one everyone seemed to idealise, or even the long-term relationship most people seemed to think they already had, because this is what it all boiled down to. Her fulfilling her role in life with him. For him. The last Time Lord and his companion, going on to save the universe for another day.
With that thought in mind, she drifted off to sleep.
o0o
"Donna...? Oh my gawd," Wilf muttered in shock when he opened her bedroom door the following morning with a welcoming cup of tea.
He'd instantly guessed that the mound under her duvet was the Doctor in bed with her. Previous to this moment, he had thought the absent Time Lord had gone for a stroll or something when he'd found his camp bed empty moments before, and had rather hoped it hadn't led here, to his granddaughter. Never mind. It was what young people got up to these days, he supposed.
For a horrified moment he thought they were having sex beneath the bedclothes, but fortunately there was no animated grunting going on, or heaving about under the covers. Just gentle snores. Worried that the Doctor might not be able to breathe, Wilf somewhat reluctantly pulled back the edge of Donna's duvet. If they were both naked under there, he intended to hastily drop it back in place pronto at the first sign of anything.
What he found wasn't quite so bad, but it was very puzzling. He saw the Doctor hugging Donna's legs as though she were a giant teddy bear. Gawd knows how he was breathing under there, and he must have been sweating like a pig, wrapped up like that, but there was no sign of any distress in the alien.
The chill air roused Donna first, and she blinked up at her grandfather in confusion. "Hello Gramps. Anything the matter?"
"No, sweetheart. Just brought you some early morning tea. Shall I get some for his lordship?"
She gazed down at the lump using her as a pillow, pinning her to the bed, and smiled fondly. "Yes please. Sorry. He had a bit of a bad night, so he came in here. I hope you don't mind us doing this."
"Not at all," Wilf readily answered. Who was he to deny the alien some comfort? Especially when the pair of them would be legally married by the end of the day. Although it wouldn't help if Sylvia knew about it, so it was best to keep things schtum. "Does he often do that? Anyway, I'll go get him a fresh cup right away."
"No, he doesn't do this often. Thanks, Gramps."
As she smiled her gratitude at him, Wilf thought he'd never seen her look so contented or beautiful. Marrying the Doctor was certainly doing her some good. "Won't be a moment," he told her, "and I'll put on some toast too."
o0o