The Doctor takes Donna to a fancy restaurant on a faraway planet for Christmas dinner and decides that he needs to tell her something important.


The Doctor sipped his drink as he watched Donna walk across the room towards him. She looked lovely in her deep red gown, like a goddess from one of Earth's old creation myths. Her hips were accentuated by a thin area of ruching, and the neckline, though modest, tempted his eyes to look right where they shouldn't. Her hair was a cascade of ginger curls down her back. In a word, she was beautiful. He let himself think it now, even though he could never say it to her.

"Now, that's better," she remarked, gesturing at her feet before sitting back down across from him. "I managed to find some flats."

"Good." He smiled at her. The sparkly heels had been a perfect match for her dress, but she'd got blisters from the horrible things during their short walk from the indoor carpark.

"Oh, they brought menus." Donna picked hers up and started looking through it. A moment later, she looked back up at him, her nose wrinkled in disgust. "What are emlezax jellies? They sound like...well, bad."

The Doctor nodded in agreement. "I wouldn't recommend them. They're the equivalent of sea cucumbers on Earth, only they're a bit tart and more chewy." He paused for a second. "Well, so I've been told. I've never tried them. Maybe you should give them a try."

Donna's eyes widened. "No, I'll stay well away from them, thanks." She went back to her menu.

The Doctor picked up his menu and started to read as well. It seemed to be mostly local dishes, but there were a few familiar Earth-style dishes on offer. Maybe he'd get the pasta special, or the curiously vague sandwich on bread. Italicized and everything.

"Um, what's kip-a-lure?" Donna asked. "Or is it keep-a-lure? This." She turned her menu so the Doctor could see and pointed the dish out.

"Keyperuurle," the Doctor said, pronouncing the word slowly. "It's a local delicacy and often served for Christmas," the Doctor replied, enjoying the way the words rolled off his tongue. "Savory sea slugs mashed with complementary spices and rice. I've heard that it's delicious."

"Oh. What is it with this place and sea creatures?" she asked, with a sigh. "Well, at least rice is normal enough. What are you getting?"

He shrugged. "Probably the pasta special."

"Oh, you would, wouldn't you? Tell me to order slugs or sea cucumbers, and you get pasta." Donna narrowed her eyes at him. "The nerve."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "I didn't tell you to order anything."

"No, but you tried to convince me. It's the local delicacy," she said, her voice dipping low, trying to imitate the way he'd drawn out the words. "It's delicious." She shook her head back and forth. "I'm going to order pasta while you gag on your slug-filled cucumber rice."

The Doctor coughed into his menu, trying to muffle the sound for the sake of the other diners. He tilted his head towards the kitchen on the other side of the restaurant. "You'd better not let them hear you insult their local dishes."

"Why?" she asked. "What are they going to do, make me try them all?"

"Possibly."

"Well, then, you'd better stop pushing me to order them."

"I'm not."

"'Cause if you make me eat sea slugs, you know I'm going to complain about it."

The Doctor held both hands up, admitting defeat in a battle he hadn't meant to enter. Only, Donna was giggling now, and so he let himself laugh along with her. Together, they dissolved into laughter, all fear of insulting the locals long forgotten.

"You are ridiculous," Donna said, when she managed to catch her breath. "You were looking at me like I was about to send you to the gallows."

"Thought you were," he said, with another small laugh. "So, just to be certain, is it safe to assume you won't be getting the sea slugs after all?"

That set her off laughing again, and she reached across the table to slap his arm. "Hush, or I'll order you the…" She looked at her menu. "Um, the grozz-manure and cheese."

"Donna, no," he begged. "You know how much I hate pears."

Her mouth fell open, incredulous. "It's pears and cheese? That's all it is?"

"Yup. And the variety they use is especially pear-y." He shuddered just thinking about it.

"Well, good. I'm going to order that for you, and you will eat it." She smirked at him.

"You can't make me." He crossed his arms, desperately fighting the grin that wanted to spread across his face and spoil his act.

"You really are five, aren't you?" Donna teashed. "Give a kid a time machine…"

"...and he still won't eat pears," the Doctor finished.

"You know, I think it would do you some good to try-"

"Excuse me, I am so sorry to interrupt," their waiter cut in, his deep voice a stark contrast to his gangly, teenaged appearance. "But are you ready to place your orders, or do you need a few more minutes to decide?"

"We'll each have an order of the pasta special, please," Donna said, her composure regained for the moment.

"That's a great choice. We will have it out shortly." The waiter nodded his approval as he collected their menus.

"Well, now you've ruined it," the Doctor complained as soon as the waiter had left. "All that trouble I went though and you didn't order the slugs."

"I could call the waiter back, if you like," she offered. "I'll place that order for pears."

He shook his head. "No, that's all right. I'll make do with the pasta."

"Glad that's settled."

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, sipping their drinks and enjoying the ambiance. The Flaming Rambler Restaurant was considered casual on the Seventh Moon of Nearrferre, but it was quite formal by Earth standards. The Doctor had even worn his tuxedo, despite his fears that it brought bad luck. He was pretty sure he did that all on his own.

He caught some movement in the corner of his eye, and he turned just in time to see Donna tuck a stray curl behind her ear. "It won't behave," she explained, when she noticed him watching.

"Your hair looks lovely," he assured her, smiling gently. He would do anything to be allowed to run his fingers freely through her hair. To feel the texture and weight of it, and to run silky strands of it across his lips. He sighed wistfully. She hated her hair, hated so much about herself, and he would never understand why. There was absolutely nothing about her to hate, and so much to love.

"Stop looking at me like that," she said. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Oh." He blinked. "Sorry. I was just thinking." He gestured lamely at his head. "You know me, always thinking."

"Yeah, well, look over there and think if you're gonna look like that." She waved her hand away from their table.

The Doctor did as she said, turning to look out the window that ran the length of the building. It revealed a brilliantly starry sky, black with the barest hints of purple and blue. The atmosphere on the moon was too thin to get a proper daytime sky, but it was present enough to cause the tinges of color. He wanted to explain it to Donna, but a quick glance in her direction revealed that she was busy adjusting the top of her dress. He felt his cheeks warm as he realized where his eyes must have fallen while he was busy thinking about her hair. He turned his eyes back on the stars, hiding his blush as he wondered how the day would end.

"Doctor?" Donna asked, after several minutes had passed.

"Hmm?" He turned away from the window and looked at her.

"Thank you for this," she said, softly. "I haven't been to a restaurant like this in ages. It's really nice."

"Oh, yeah, sure."

"This is like one of those places you see famous people go to on the telly, you know? Not somewhere you go just because it's Christmas and you don't want to cook."

"Why not?"

"Well, it's expensive." She shrugged. "Growing up, my family hardly ever went anywhere nice to eat. Mum always said there was no reason to spend much on food because it all ends up in the same place anyway. I guess I sort of stuck with that when I started making my own money."

He nodded. "She had a good point, I suppose."

Donna sighed. "I guess so."

"The thing is, it's not really about that, is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's about the experience. The tastes, the sights and sounds. The chance to get dressed up and share a meal with someone you care about. To try something new. To have an adventure." He waggled his eyebrows at her, accenting each word. "You're not paying for the food so much as everything that comes along with it."

Donna considered that for a moment, and then she narrowed her eyes. "Are you still trying to convince me to order the slugs?"

"Not at all," he assured her.

"In that case, I think you're right." She reached across the small table for his hands, and he happily let her take them. "Really, thank you."

"You're welcome," he said. "We'll have to do things like this more often."

"Definitely." She squeezed his hands and smiled warmly at him. "But I mean, thank you for everything. You're good to me. For me. Even Mum has noticed. She's still teasing me about how you wouldn't let me out of your sight when we visited last time."

The look in her eyes was so familiar. He was sure he'd seen it a thousand times, but suddenly he was seeing it differently. If he didn't know better… No. "And you're good to me and for me," he echoed, fully meaning the words.

"I never thought I could be so happy," she admitted, with a small shrug of her shoulders.

The Doctor swallowed past the lump in his throat. To hear his Donna say she was happy with him - because of him - meant everything. "Me neither," he agreed, swallowing again to prepare himself for his next words. "I thought my last chance for happiness had died along with my people, but I was wrong. You've made me so happy, Donna. Really, genuinely happy."

She blushed so intensely that her whole face went as red as her hair. "Doctor?"

"Yes?"

"I know I'm nothing special, and you..." She shifted nervously in her chair, clearly on the verge of saying something more.

"Donna." He ran his thumb across the back of her hand, enjoying the feel her smooth skin. "You are magnificent."

She shook her head, pulling back from him a bit. "No, I'm not. I'm ginger and dull, and boring, and I have-"

"Stop. You are none of those things, except ginger." His eyes moved back to her hair. "And your hair is gorgeous."

"Says you," she said, flatly.

"Says me," he agreed. "Don't I count?"

"Well, I don't know..." Donna looked up for a moment. "Oh, here comes our food." She pulled her hands away from his, effectively ending their moment.

And then the waiter was beside their table with their meals on a silver tray. "Your pasta," he said, placing their plates in front of them with care. "Happy Christmas."

"Well, at least it looks like normal spaghetti bolognese," Donna remarked, once the waiter had walked away. "Smells normal, too."

The Doctor leaned over his plate to smell. "Mmm."

Together, they began eating, finding that it tasted exactly as they expected. They ate and talked, enjoying the food and carefully avoiding their earlier conversation.


But something clicked deep inside the Doctor as they stood to leave, and he decided that enough was enough. He had enough evidence now to know there was at least a chance that Donna cared for him too. He didn't want to lose her, and that fear usually meant he wouldn't allow himself to get too attached to his companions, but he'd realized something as he had finished off his pasta. Donna was incredibly special, and he was already very attached to her. He'd told her things he hadn't told anyone else and let her in on some of his darkest secrets. It would probably kill him when she left, but he would never forgive himself if he didn't take the risk. Even if she said no. Because despite all of their denials and insistence that they weren't a couple, he had already come to think of her as his partner in life. He just needed to make if official.

He held a hand out to help Donna up from her chair. She took it, smiling up at him. "Thank you."

But instead of simply pulling her to her feet and leading her towards the exit, he pulled her up into his arms, hugging her tight. He knew better than to go straight to his point. Donna needed a more gentle approach. "Thank you for coming to dinner with me," he said softly, almost whispering into her ear.

She giggled as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Of course. Thank you for saving me from another boring Christmas on Earth."

He chuckled lightly, knowing that she would still want to go to her mum's later despite what she said. "Do you know what could make this evening even better?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Nothing that I can think of. Today has been wonderful," she said, softly. "A perfect evening."

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. "How about a promise?"

"A promise?"

"Yeah. A promise to treasure and love you for as long as we get to spend together." He pulled away enough to meet her eyes, watching as she absorbed his words.

"What do you…? You mean love each other as friends, right?" she asked, but there was that gleam in her eye again, and he pressed on.

"Well, yes, as friends, and as more," he suggested. "If you'd like."

She gasped, a soft noise that made his knees tremble. "Are you saying…?"

"I am, Donna Noble. I know you might not feel the same way, and that's okay, but I still need to tell you. I love you, and I never want you to doubt that. You're so very special to me. And brilliant and kind, and beautiful. And I really want to kiss you right now."

"Well…" Her cheeks were aflame, but she leaned closer to him. "Okay."

So he did. For the first of many times that day and forever. When they broke apart, she leaned to whisper in his ear. "I love you, too. Merry Christmas, Spaceman."