Part 7

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Seconds later the two of them land on a hut roof, and it immediately collapsed beneath their feet. They plunged through the corrugated roof; taking rafters, branch debris, moss and mud with them. A plume of dust engulfed them, obscuring their vision.

Once it cleared a bit, they both looked up at the shattered ceiling above them as they grasped the fragile walls, dripping wet with gloop and amazed they were still alive. Breathing took priority for a few seconds.

"Are you okay? This is just grand," Donna sarcastically commented as she considered the small building they had landed in. She gasped in a couple of breaths. "Remind me to book two weeks here for next year's holiday."

They were squatting low, next to the ground on something like a pile of sacks and out of the eyeline of the single hole that probably labelled itself as a window.

"I'm fine. You okay? In all fairness, it does have several notable features," the Doctor retorted. "Like that, for instance." He pointed out a dusty corner lit by a single sunbeam.

"The muck and filth set it off a treat," she agreed. "Everything you could ever want from an abandoned hovel."

"Barn… or hut," he corrected. "I suggest we wait a while before setting out to look for the car. Get our breath back and wait for the pain to wear off. Dunno about you but my coccyx is giving me grief."

"Do you really want me to comment on your bottom?" she joked. Moving slightly, she grimaced in pain. "But I know what you mean."

He decided to ignore any reference to his behind. It was safer that way. "What shall we do while we wait?"

She instantly burst out with, "I spy with my little eye…."

"No no no," he interrupted, "we're not doing that. Too many memories of long boring car journeys. Let's try asking each other questions."

Donna frowned. "What, like University Challenge or Trivial Pursuits?"

"No," he sighed. "I'm offering to answer anything you want to know."

"You might regret this," she cautioned. "Okay," she announced, sitting up straighter and flinching at the action, "we'll start with an easy one. Why do you let the world and his wife think you and Rose are an item?"

"That one?" he berated, and then sighed. "Very well, I did say I would answer anything."

"And you must admit that I have a vested interest in finding out since, and I'm sorry to say this but, we do get pestered by her during the day when I'm trying to work," Donna argued.

"Yes, you're right," he agreed. "I'm very fond of her. I love her in my own way, but she has many demands that I can only superficially allow."

"Is that your subtle way of saying you don't sleep together?" At his startled look, she amended, "Sorry. Ignore that. It's none of my business."

Except he suddenly wanted it to be her business. Very much so. "When a beautiful young woman offers herself to you, it's very tempting, but in reverence to Jackie, I haven't touched Rose beyond the odd peck or two." He grimaced. "Well, Rose is almost young enough to be my daughter, and she was only sixteen when I first met her. She was a welcome breath of fresh air at the time, but she also needed protecting, like a father would, so I took on that role, at first. And then her interest in me grew."

"Like having a major crush on your teacher at school, by the sound of it," Donna commented. "And when teacher reciprocates, they tend to get their name in the national papers after being kicked out of their job forever."

"Exactly," he noted. "It isn't wise to follow through with those sort of thoughts; and I'd rather not, if it's all the same to you."

At least he had stopped seeming like some dirty old man, judging by his explanation, so she felt quite relieved. And rather fed up of having to think about Rose. "Talking of schools…. Why have you really decided we can go to St Gladys School?"

The Doctor worried his lip as he considered the best way to answer this question. "Jenny and Ben. They seemed quite sweet, their demeanour bothered me enough to find out more, and they sort of…" He sucked in a breath before continuing with a slight wobble in his voice. "They sort of remind me of my children."

"Children! I didn't know you had children," she exclaimed. "What age are they? And why haven't you mentioned them before? Do you get to see them much? Are you divorced? Is that what's stopping you?"

"That's a lot of questions," he hesitated to answer; his mood sombre. "They…" His hand brushed self-comforting strokes down the top of his thigh. "I lost them both a couple of years ago, when I was attached to the army as a technical consultant. There was…" He faltered again for a couple of seconds; the image still bright in his mind. "There was a bomb; one of those suicide bombers in a street market, just outside Baghdad. They weren't even supposed to be there that day," he sobbed.

She instantly took his hand in hers, wanting to protect him from the raw pain he still felt. "Oh John, how horrible. I am so sorry for your loss," she sympathised, thumbing away the tears on his cheeks and unable to stop her own tears welling up. "If you don't want to tell me anymore, that's fine. I'm too nosey for my own good."

A firm squeeze of her hand made her wonder which bit he was relieved to hear.

"I don't normally mention my family; it's too painful. Yet denying it happened isn't doing me any good," he near whispered. "Rose distracted me for a long while. When I close my eyes, I can still see them all lying covered on a makeshift hospital bed. My wife, son and daughter couldn't be rescued, but Jenny and Ben can, if we manage it."

"I promise I'll help in any way I can," she readily vowed.

"I know you will," he commented with a small wry smile. "You just seem that way. There's a compassionate quality about you that practically screams it."

"What about Rose?" she felt the need to ask, to quash her hopes. "How will she feel about our quest, for want of a better word?"

"I'm not sure she will be keen. She's focused, determined and very caring when people are in need," he replied, "but she isn't overly fond of children. She doesn't seek them out like I've seen you do."

"It's an age thing, I suppose," Donna dismissed with a shrug of her shoulders. "She's too young to experience let alone consider having children. Whereas I've always wanted to be a mum but I'm too old to have my own, yet I'm more than willing to take on someone else's, if that's what it takes. Luckily, Rose has got bags of time to marry if she wants to have a family."

"You're not too old," he countered. "Women have children well into their forties these days; and you're only, what, thirty…?" he sought to find out.

"Thirty-five," she answered, feeling the weight of the number pin her down. "Far too old to even find someone to have a baby with, where my mum is concerned. I thought I'd found the one but that went belly up pretty quickly."

"Ah, yes, the fiancée," he murmured. "What was she like?"

Should she tell him the absolute truth? Perhaps not. It was too soon into their working relationship for that admission and risk losing her job. For now, she would let him continue to believe her ex was a woman.

"This is shaming to say out loud," she began. "As I said, I thought I'd found the ideal person. Smart, good looking, earned a healthy wage. Someone who would love and adore me until the end of my days. And then it started to get a bit controlling. Forever phoning me up. It was all: 'Where have you been?' 'Who have you seen?' 'Where are you going?' 'Are you cheating on me?'" She glanced at him to see if he was still listening, and then carried on, pleased to get this aspect off her chest. "When I refused to hand my phone over to have my texts inspected, I got hit. Of course, they apologised; saying it would never happen again. All the usual tommyrot about loving me. But surely if you love someone you don't attack them for saying hello to an old friend. You don't try to stomp on them or deliberately leave bruises in places other people won't be able to see. And you certainly don't threaten to murder them in their sleep or in the bath."

"Oh Donna," he sympathised, and drew her closer. "You must have been terrified."

"I was for a while," she admitted. "One day I had this wonderful person I loved, and the next I had this monster who tried to kill me with their car. But I won in the end. I made it out and I'm here with you," she emphasised, squeezing his hand, "doing a job I love."

"And I love you too… working with me, I mean," he stammered, blushing with embarrassment. "Do you think we should risk heading for the car yet?" he wondered, deliberately changing the topic. "Are you ready run with me?"

The ambiguity of it wasn't lost on her. "Yes, I think I am."

./-\.

The running hadn't lasted for long; they were too tired after all the climbing they'd done to do much more than walk along the nearest road when they stumbled upon it. At least it was cooler this far down in the valley, with plenty of trees for cover amid the eternal rocks and stones.

"Oh, thank goodness! There's someone we can ask where we are on the map," Donna tiredly enthused.

Within the forest of trees sat a villa by the side of the road. A man was sweeping debris off the small driveway that let up to it, and a car sat in the shade of the surrounding trees.

"Let me do this," the Doctor offered. "Excuse me!" he called out. "Can you help us?"

The man looked completely gobsmacked at their unusual appearance. It's not every day you see two spat out ragamuffins.

"Meesus Jones!" he shouted towards the villa. "Can you come help?"

The front door opened and then their ears were hit by a loud shriek. "What are you doing here?" a female voice from within the villa demanded.

Peering with squinted eyes into the relative dark to locate the voice, the Doctor exclaimed, "Martha?
Martha! Sorry to drop in like this but we were in the area."

"Martha? As in your Martha?" Donna wondered.

"Yes. No. Sort of," the Doctor spluttered.

"I'm Martha, yes," Martha cautiously supplied, stepping nearer on the driveway. "And you are?"

"Donna. Donna Noble," she replied. "I'd shake your hand but I'm a bit covered in gloop at the moment. We both are." She shook her hand in demonstration, and some of its covering slopped noisily to the floor. Nonchalantly, she picked off a couple of leaves from her arm to toss aside too. "We had an incident."

"What with?" Martha queried.

"A thangumandalum," the Doctor told her. "Huge slobbery creature."

Martha gasped in shock. "And how did you find one of those?"

"We were looking for trolls."

"Of the non-Scandinavian type," Donna tacked on to his answer. "It did us a favour." She looked to the Doctor to gauge how much she should tell. "Look, can we continue this once we've had a chance to clean ourselves up? Admittedly I could really do with a hot shower followed by a nice cup of tea, but anything will do."

"You don't change, Doctor. Still getting into the same sort of messes." Martha huffed a laugh. "Follow me and I'll find you some towels."

"Does that mean a general wash your hands, or an all over proper wash?" Donna hastily whispered to the Doctor.

"I don't know," he quietly answered. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"What are you whispering about?" a little old lady suddenly and quite testily demanded of them.

They both jumped in shock and turned to see a pensioner sitting hidden by a large settee. She moved sideways to peer at them in curiosity over the padded arm.

"I said: what are you whispering about?" she asked in a louder voice; obviously presuming they hadn't heard her.

"We were just wondering where Martha had got to," the Doctor supplied, "since she's gone to get us towels."

"Oh," the woman remarked. "Why do you need towels? Have you come for a swim?"

"No, Grandma," Martha answered for them, appearing from another room and laden with towels. "They had an animal throw up on them, so they need to wash."

"Why did they let it do that?" Grandma wondered.

"We didn't let it," the Doctor replied.

"It just sort of happened before we could stop it," Donna added.

"Grandma, this the Doctor. I used to work with him. Dr John Smith. Do you remember me mentioning him?"

"Ah yes," Grandma noted. "This must be his girlfriend. Or are you married yet?"

"Oh no, we're not married," the Doctor blustered.

"Then it's about time you were," Grandma pointedly stated.

As he visibly baulked, Donna shared a conspiratorial smile with Martha. "Doctor," she huffed, impersonating Rose's voice and causing Martha to fervently hide her giggles behind her hand. Fortunately, Grandma had wandered off to make tea, so Donna eyed Martha with glee. "Talking of marriage, congratulations!"

"Marriage? What are you on about, Donna?" he questioned, frowning in confusion.

"She's engaged, you prawn!" she chastised. "Didn't you see the ring on her finger?"

"Oh yes!" he gasped, glancing at Martha's hand. "Sorry. Wasn't paying attention for a moment. Congratulations, Martha. A bit quick, but anyway... Who's the lucky man?"

"We met each other, and it just seemed right," Martha defended. "His name is Mickey. Hopefully you remember him. We met quite by chance at the hospital. He works there now." She then bounced in delight as a thought occurred to her. "We're having an engagement party here night. Why don't you both come?"

"I don't know...," the Doctor started to decline.

"You must!" Martha insisted. "My parents will be here too, as well as my immediate family. They'd all love to see you again, Doctor; and meet you, Donna, of course."

"Oh, go on, say yes," Donna urged him, nudging his shoulder with her own. "It'd be a good way to end our trip. We go home the day after tomorrow," she added for Martha's benefit.

"Have a think while you have a shower," Martha advised when he didn't immediately answer. "Doctor, you can use the one in the main bathroom, and Donna can use the shower in my en suite."

"Er, what about clothing?" Donna considered, pointing at their filthy outfits.

"I'll find you something to wear while your clothes wash and dry, shouldn't take more than an hour or so at the most."

"Then you can count me in," Donna enthused. "These shorts are rubbing me in places they really shouldn't."

The Doctor wished she hadn't given him such a mental image to ponder before entering the shower, but it was too late now. The damage was done.

Then she said the fatal words that put the nail in the coffin, as it were. "I'm almost prepared to go skinny-dipping in order to get these clothes off. I have a date with some hot soapy water."

"Are you alright, Doctor?" Martha asked him as he shuddered in the doorway of the bathroom she'd led him to.

"Just a bit... You know," he vaguely answered. "Where shall I put my dirty things?" he asked when she returned some seconds later from guiding Donna to the other shower.

She placed towels and a dressing gown on the bathroom vanity unit before answering. "I'll collect them when you've finished in here. Once your stuff is in the washing machine, I'll leave you some replacements on the bed in Leo's room. Then we'll have some tea and cake before you have a quick nap. How does that sound?"

In that moment, it sounded like heaven. "Lovely," he enthused.

./-\.