As always, thank you for the reviews. It makes me excited that I'll have an audience to throw in future twists and turns to because I guarantee you that this story is far from being over. And, it's the longest one I've written so far with this being the 10th chapter. One of my biggest problem is that I sometimes jump from action to action too quickly so it makes the whole scene seem unrealistic. Alot of my stories ended too quickly and were too rushed. That is why there are chapters like this next one where basically, the characters can get their thoughts together as can I and then blind side you with crazy plot twists and strange character developments. Enjoy!

Love & Traffic

The first thing that scared Donna Noble when she woke up on the morning after shagging Harry Saxon was said mans arm. How did it scare her? Well…it was slung over her waist and unnecessarily tight in its grip, keeping her very naked body, very much near his. She tried rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and then glaring behind her at the Time Lord but he was out deep, a calm smile on his dormant face.

Outside was still dark, in dawn's first breaths of morning, but the storm had successfully passed by. Guessing it to be sometime around six in the morning, Donna, with a very large smile on her face, began trying to free herself from Harry's grip. Her smile still held fast on even as Harry only seemed to want to tug her back further, lessening her minimal progress. Although she was aware that he probably didn't know he was doing this, the last thing Donna wanted was to have him wake up. Not only would that be entirely awkward, but his emotions may have drastically shifted since they'd shacked up together the night before.

"Oi, c'mon you ponce. I'm not a bloody stuffed animal," Donna couldn't help but quietly groan out.

Still in a dreaming state, Harry only made a disagreeing noise in the back of his throat before loosening his arms slightly. However, this was all the time Donna needed as she flung her naked body out of his arms and out of the bed. To her amazement, she watched an angry frown escalate over his face once his hand felt nothing but emptiness beside him. After awhile of fruitless searching, the tired hand quietly retired.

Donna then began the fun task of searching for her clothes. Throughout this process, not a single guilty thought grasped itself onto her conscious. In fact, her conscious was entirely at ease.

We shagged him, her conscious informed her dreamily.

Yeah, we did.

He was really, really good.

I'll admit to that.

I mean really, REALLY good.

Alright, quiet you.

And on Donna went, searching blindly for her underwear that she remembered Harry throwing wildly across the room, at the time, intent on her never finding them.

Next time I'll get bloody a glow in the dark pair.

Despite the light from the street lamps outside, the darkness in the room was foreboding, as if the emotions previously held by the stumbling redhead, were electrifying the atmosphere. Of course this was a ridiculous notion, but Donna did her best not to think too deeply on what had just occurred and only on the day's plans. What was she going to say to the Doctor? No, scratch that. HOW was she going to say it to the Doctor?

Finally finding her discarded underwear near the closet, Donna felt pleasurable aches erupt in the innards of her thighs.

Oh yeah, that's gonna stay with me all day.

Ignoring the smile that wanted to burst out regarding last night's activities, Donna crept toward the foot of the bed and began throwing on her pants and shirts. Half way in the process, she stopped suddenly. Harry's incoherent mumbling greeted her ears. Scared that he might be waking up, Donna stood glued to the ground and watched the Time Lord shift once to his left – covers moving rapidly with him – and then more violently, shifting to his right.

"Don't-."

Staring through her orange bangs, Donna's lips contorted into a concerned frown.

Against her better judgment, she slowly tipped toed over to the Time Lord whose face since she had left it, had delivered a fresh drench of sweat underneath his bangs. Moving erratically underneath his lids were his eyes as the lines in his face gradually twisted into pain.

"Save-don't. Please-never ends. Theta."

The words came out as hushed pleadings, but strained in sorrow nonetheless.

Although Donna was completely dressed and aware that if Harry was to wake up at this exact moment or anytime soon, things would not go well for her, she ended up sharing the same sentiment from the Doctor.

Beyond any words, any unimaginable atrocities he'd committed, and beyond all hate that consumed him, there was still so much pain within the Time Lord. Pain that stung and bit and drummed unrelentingly, never releasing its hold on him. Pain that couldn't be released through a night of shagging. Donna understood this as being another front that he had built because who truly wanted to admit to having hurt feelings? She obviously didn't and it took shagging an evil Time Lord to prove that.

He really needs the Doctor.

And Donna didn't think she'd thought any truer words.

Another violent twist of the head had her reach out her hand before she knew she was even doing it, and place her thumb on his forehead and fingers on his temple.

Surely you're not nearly that bad of a bloke as everyone says you are. I mean, I know you're evil but...

Martha's terrified face flew into Donna's mind as she related the stories of what had occurred on board the Valiant. The torture, the suffering. The unimaginable death.

Damn it. What would the Doctor do? I can't just clear off and leave him so bloody distraught.

Hesitantly, Donna brushed Harry's forehead softly once, numb to the tingle that had just erupted in between her fingers and his forehead. However, she wasn't blind to the auric silky strand of light that descended from within her fingers, into the Time Lord's head. It was softly caressing the outside of his skull before entering his mind and then repeating the process. Where that just came from or how she did that, remained unclear.

God, I hope that did something good.

Once the last strand entered the Time Lord's head fully, it disintegrated and changed the features of the man who was lying on the bed, almost immediately. His erratic eyes that had been moving abnormally quick, stilled into a casual pace. With her fingers, Donna felt his sweaty, pale head began to cool into the temperature of the room. All violent movements ceased as a firm relaxation tugged itself into his limbs.

Well, thanks for the shag mate, even if you're a complete nutter. I'll make sure the Doctor finds you.

The city began waking up around Donna as she started on her journey home. There was no doubt in her mind that the Doctor was with Wilf and her mum because just a few minutes ago she'd stopped by a bus stop, closed her eyes, thought of the man's goofy grin and caught him sleeping inside her mum's home. Whatever this strange gift was, she'd have to have a very long discussion with the Doctor about it among the many other strange things that just seemed to be projecting from her thoughts or her fingers without explanation.

Then there was the strange bit about only hearing drumming when she thought of Harry. She'd never had so many issues with this Time Lord side of her back before the Doctor erased her memories. Yet, Donna wondered again that because of the Time Lord intelligence she no longer held, these extra abilities may be the substitutes. But even the Doctor never was able to do anything like this.

"Hey, wait up!"

Spinning her head to the left, Donna slowed her walking as a woman began running to her side. Six o clock long gone, the sun began pulling its sleepy, raging eye up as Big Ben in the distance indicated it was seven o clock.

My god, I'm going to lose some serious pounds walking across London.

"Sorry, I just recognized ya. We met yesterday on the side walk on Leggins Street. I told you about that soap opera. How've ya been?"

Recollection hit Donna as the woman, this time in a maroon suit, began walking with her.

"I've been...decent. Really decent. And you?"

"Oh I've been great. Made a huge sale yesterday and hopefully have enough cash to move out of my flat and into the country. Hear it's absolute magic out there. Ever been?"

"No, not really. I tend to stay in the city," Donna hesitated, thinking of all the strange planets she'd been to, "and then the occasional out of this world trip."

"Fascinating. My name's Vanessa. Probably wondering what I'm doing on this side of town?"

"Nice to meet you. I'm Donna. Yeah, I thought you worked in the districts near-."

"Not anymore. Since yesterday's sale, my job promotion's got be running about on these parts. But I wouldn't change it for anything. How about you? What's around here for you?"

Pausing, Donna gazed around at the awakening streets and murmuring city.

"I had an...acquaintance of mine about thirty miles back. Stayed the night there."

"And they made you walk home?"

"Yeah, but it's not a problem. I'm feeling great and it looks like it's gonna be a glorious day."

"That's great! Compared to yesterday, you were looking like you just wanted to crawl in the gutters or something. Do you need a ride? I've got my car with me and traffic is really minimal right now. Usually that way until it gets to seven thirty. Then things are mad out on the roads. I'm heading back to Leggins anyway to get the rest of my paper work."

Feeling her mood improve even more, Donna happily accepted the ride back.

"Do you feel like going to Chiswick?"

"Not a problem. I've got an old boyfriend who lived near those parts. Name was Shaun Temple, maybe you might have heard of him?"

Nearly tripping over the pavement, Donna felt her smile evaporate.

"Yeah, I know Shaun. He and I...well, we were kind of dating. We are. Dunno, I guess we kept on getting in a lot of fights."

"Really? What are the bloody chances? Although, it's pretty typical for him to be the nice guy in the beginning. Pampers you, asks you about your day, and all that other rubbish. Then he gets to be a real pain in the ass when he bugs ya about what you're going to do with work. I was a waitress down on East Smithfield. Not the best pay in the world but we were getting by. Then he starts bugging me about income and finance. I tell him that he's not doing much to help support, ya know?"

Donna nodded her head quickly, stopping by the door of Vanessa's car.

"Turns it all about, saying how I need to bring home some money. Well, even though I did eventually kick him to the curb, he did motivate me to look for a higher paying job. Probably living heftily thanks to him. But I'll warn ya now, he's only looking for money. You look like a smart woman so I'm telling ya just to be careful and not be too surprised when you wake up one morning with your wallet missing."

Staring out at the empty street, Donna shook off the amused grin that wanted to settle itself on her lips.

I haven't thought about Shaun in...two days. And I'll be damned if I feel the slightest bit of guilt for that wanker.

Sliding into the car and letting out a sigh of relief as her tired legs finally had time to rest, Donna leaned her head back, refusing to think about anything having to do with Time or Lords or any combination of the two words.

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At about the same time that Donna accepted Vanessa's ride, the Master woke up alone in his bed. Now that Donna is gone and her stubborn refusal to call the Master by his name has dispersed, the Master is back to just being the Master. Unless he was to encounter Donna again and Donna being the strong personality she is, will only refer to him as Harry. A bit of a confusing name tag shift, but it'll have to suffice.

Anywho, surprise couldn't escape the Master's features when he realized that she was gone. The human had actually left him before he could leave her. Or at least gloat in her face about what he'd just taken from her. It wasn't disappointment because the Master refused to feel that, but a mere bother that he wasn't going to be able to insult somebody early in the morning. Especially for actions that she had taken.

Still, something else was off about the morning. Outside, the daily garbage truck roared by. Although no trash was picked up on this route, the Master learned after observing that it was routine for the truck to take this street nonetheless. In the distance, birds could be heard chirping away. Even further still, traffic was just beginning to gravitate toward central London.

And then he had it. He could actually hear these things. Clearly and perfectly with no intervening from...

The drums...they're...gone.

Flipping himself hastily off the bed, the Master slowly walked around, making sure it wasn't a trick. He picked up one of his books from off the ground and thumbed his way through the pages, the rustling proclaiming an ancient flutter. Throwing it down, he then ran to the other side of the room and opened up the window. Sticking his head out, the Master picked up small bits of a conversation that the garbage man was having at the unnecessary traffic light on the vacant street. The man always told himself that he'd run straight through the red one of these days, but he always found himself stopping for it.

"Can't be," the Master muttered.

He remembered before he'd fallen asleep that the drums had ceased momentarily. But they came back just as strong during his nightly dreams of Gallifrey as they always did. Or nightmares.

The nightmare was worse than all the others ones he'd had in the previous two years and he found himself just wishing for the noise to kill him. At first, he hadn't even registered the presence of a weight on his forehead. He'd thought that maybe the Doctor was trying to get into his mind again. However, after the presence disappeared, the drums quit altogether.

Shaking his head, the Master sat back down on the bed. He didn't know what had happened to suddenly make the drums stop, but he knew it had something to do with the human girl. Too much of a coincidence to just have her appear in his life one night, and gone the next morning, along with the drums in his head.

For once, the Master was left at a stand still on what do to. He very much wanted to find the Doctor and enlighten him of what he'd done with his companion. Former companion. The hurt that would grace the Doctor's face only served to put the Master in that much of a better mood. However, he wanted to interrogate the human girl too. She must have done something to erradicate the drums in his head.

But if he was to gloat to the Doctor about his victory, he knew that no way in hell would she even consider talking to him. In fact, she'd probably clunk him over the head. Had a fire to her that made the Master reluctantly was impressed with. Yet if he took the time to try and get answers out of her, the Doctor wouldn't learn of what he did until a later time, if at all.

Oh the decisions he suddenly had to make were entirely burdening.

Flashes of the night before kept on trying to intrude into his mind but the Master wasn't letting them. It felt too good to just finally have silence after so many centuries of constant drumming. Even as he thought about them now, he couldn't properly believe that they were actually gone.

Finding his feet moving toward the closet, the Master pulled on new clothes of a black sweatshirt and black pants. Then kneeling down, he retreated the object that was folded within his other clothes. Sliding it into his pants pocket, the Master swept his hand through his blond hair once. Unfortunately, he actually had to look presentable today.

Finally, after he had everything he needed and he didn't look like he'd just crawled out of the sewers, the Master walked out the door of the abandoned house.

His destination was a telephone box a few blocks away, but he walked with his head low and hood over his head. The decision he was struggling to make kept on blockading his restful mind. Witness the Doctor's most likely pained and hurt face or to get answers from the redhead? Had he asked himself this question a day earlier, there would be no doubt in his mind that he would have loved to see the Doctor suffer through irrelevant emotions. But the curiosity was building the longer his mind was free of the drums, on how exactly she'd managed to extract them from him. There was always the possibility that she had nothing to do with it, but he doubted this.

What was it she had said? I'm special.

Yes, the Master grinned, truly special indeed.

But the nearer to his destination that the Master got, the more obvious it was that he still hadn't made his decision. He didn't know exactly what was so bloody hard about it. He loved causing misery, especially onto the Doctor. Who cares if the human girl got embarrassed and in trouble over it? The more victory for him. But it was unlikely that she would have. The Master had an uncanny ability to pick out the little characteristics of a human, often those characteristics were their downfall. For Donna however, the Master felt at odds with her.

Doesn't listen to what I say. Loud. Stubborn. Intelligent...to a certain degree.

And while most humans were easily figured out by this point, the Master had a hard time trying to decipher how he could break the human down.

She moaned the Doctor's name.

While this was supposed to be a comforting thought to the Master because it let him know the true extent in which she cared for the Doctor and care was such an easy weakness to destroy, he instead felt a bitter anger towards the fact.

Hell, I wouldn't have minded if she would have moaned my human name.

Because instead of this being a point of victory for the Master, it instead turned into another harsh realization that the Doctor was always present in their minds. Through his good and damn understanding, the Doctor was never too far away from hope and love. And the humans absolutely adored that.

"Hey mate, do you want something to eat? I've got fresh fish and chips," a vendor who had been setting up early, asked.

The Master ignored the razor pains in his stomach, and instead only showed a wicked smile from beneath his hood as he stopped in his tracks.

The vendor was getting closer, rolling his equipment behind him.

When they were only a few feet from each other, the Master lowered his hood slowly over his head. For some reason, the vendor was visibly shaken by the daunting face that revealed itself.

"Hmmm...what I really want is to boil your head in a pot of steaming water. How about that? Special of the day : human filth on a stick! Now, do you think that would sell fast? I know you humans are always so eager for something fattening and grease inhabited," the Master bit out, his voice raising in menace with every syllable.

The vendor didn't think as he pushed his cart away from him and took off down the street, away from the man who's eyes had meant every word he'd said.

Meanwhile, the Master felt a pang of displeasure. He was hoping for a little spar back or some kind of fight. But then he realized that that's what was also gone. Someone who could insult him. And while the Master didn't particularly keep his emotions in check when he was being insulted by the redhead last night, as obvious by their shagging, he couldn't deny that he felt thrilled at her defiance. But he didn't linger any longer on those thoughts because to admit that he missed the human's insults would lead to admit that he missed the human herself which was a truly repulsive thought.

When the Master had licked away the last of the salt from his fingers (AN: was I the only one who couldn't stop staring at the Master's tongue in the End of Time when it was licking the wrapper? :D), he grabbed a napkin, wiped his face with it and threw it down on the tipped cart. He could never properly think without a full stomach.

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"Oi, turn on your fecking blinker!" Donna yelled at the car ahead of them.

Vanessa smiled approvingly as she honked her horn. They'd just managed to get back on the road after Vanessa had picked her files up on Leggins, when rush hour hit like a plague. For the next half hour, the two women were only busy shouting at the traffic that seemed to have complete twits moving it along.

"Can you believe this? The bloody light is green," Vanessa groaned out.

By the time they had gotten up to the traffic light however, it was back to a tomato red.

"Can't stand London traffic."

"Oh, it gets better in the evenings. S'pecially when all the pubs start opening up," Donna explained back.

"Do you go out often? Seems like you have a good time every day."

Donna laughed, placing her hand over her eyes.

"Yeah, I do."

Stilling her head, Donna raised her head and peered out of the window quizzically. Something about Vanessa's statement rang a bell in her head.

She'd been at a pub on the night before she'd gotten her memories back. From then on, it got blurry after the first four martinis. Then she remembered very distantly, stumbling her way home after Stacy had left without her. She'd gotten to mum's and then passed out in her room.

Which means that whatever happened to me, happened at the pub. Or after I'd gotten to sleep.

Biting her thumb out of nervous habit, Donna found her gaze transported to the driver of the car.

Vanessa was a great girl. Funny, smart and knew London in and out. She'd been working for two years now in selling products from bankrupt companies. If the product sold for a grand amount, she got 10% of the profit. If not, she'd pitch it, still get money for trying and start all over with a new product.

"The best products," Vanessa had informed Donna, "are electronics. People want to get about without hassle. They want to communicate without asking a repairman to go on over and check wires or systems. Sold a new version of a television with practically a nonexistent screen. The television though, operates as an entertainment guide, internet, webcam for the world and basically anything else you can think of. Sold for 50,000 pounds. 50,000! Although I know now why the place went out of business. Ridiculous amount of money for that kind of stuff but people want it."

She'd even offered a ton of jobs that she promised could give Donna her own place. Of course Donna thought about them because while her memories did all of a sudden come back and the Doctor was back on Earth, it didn't mean she would be carted off onto another adventure in the Tardis as soon as she got back home. In fact, Donna would be surprised if the Doctor let her anywhere near the Tardis after what she was going to tell him. So despite her deep wish to just be able to forget about the realities of human life, Donna knew that she had to have support if things all came crashing down again.

After another half hour of impatient honking and language that even Donna was shocked she let out of her mouth, her mum's house had appeared.

"Thanks for the ride. I dunno how I can make it up to you."

"Not a problem Donna. How about this? We'll meet on Leggins on Friday afternoon and you can tell me what you think."

"Think about what?" Donna questioned.

"The newest episode of Tears of My Beloved. Anything could happen."

"Oh, I dunno if I can sit through it. My mum might bust the telly in her anger."

"If that happens, I'll fill ya in. See ya later."

"Bye."

With that, Vanessa took off and left Donna alone in front of her house. Unsurprisingly, her heart had picked up but she tried to remain calm. It was a struggle to realize that she'd only left this house yesterday morning and came back a day later, having shagged the Doctor's enemy.

If I could get things accomplished this quickly everyday, I still wouldn't be living with mum and gramps.

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The Master let out a triumphant yell as his finger circled over the Noble house number three times. While that could be informative to anyone, what he was happy about was the address that lingered right next to the number.

A loud knock greeted his ears from behind him.

"Hey buddy, are you going to be in there all day? I've got some very important calls to make," a man called from outside the box.

American. I should have known.

Instilling the best smile of a man who'd innocently forgotten the time, the Master opened the telephone box and gestured the American man inside.

The man looked uncertain. While he wasn't a hefty fellow, he still doubted that he could fit inside with the other man occupying it.

"You know on second thought, I think I'll just go search for another one."

"Oh no, I insist," the Master replied, tugging the man inside the box.

With a firm slam of the door, the American man found himself in only a three foot diameter away from the man across him.

Since it was the early hours and most workers were headed to work in central London, not many pedestrians martyred the streets. This made the man all the more nervous.

"Listen, I'm sorry. I could really go search for another one," the American said, noticing the slow deterioration of the man's friendly features.

"Shut up. You know, I wonder if anyone's ever been murdered in a phone box in the middle of a busy city like London? Oh I'm sure they have. After all, I did once destroy half of this world's population and some unlucky human must have been trapped in one. But me personally? No, I don't think I have. That is...not yet."

"Look, whatever you want, I'll give it to you. Money? I've got money."

"What part of shut up don't you understand," the Master venomously spat out, folding his hand around the man's pulsing throat.

"Please," the man quivered, unshed tears forming in his eyes, his hands fumbling to pull off the man's inhuman grip.

"Yes, that is what I love about you humans. Such pitiful little sheep you are. So unaware of so much. So insignificant that one of your death's makes no difference to the population around you. A man gets murdered in a phone box and all the city of London will do is become concerned about losing business and how much to pay the workers who'll be cleaning up the remainder of your body."

With every terrifying revelation, more oxygen was cut off to the man's throat.

"Isn't that just sad? To be surrounded by so many of your own kind, but to mean so little. So little that they decide to instill something into your head. Because what's it going to matter? Your race is far over 12 billion strong. What's it going to matter if they instill the drums of war inside some small little boy? And that's when you realize that your race isn't everything you thought it to be. That even if you're surrounded by that crowd, not a damn person will come to your rescue if you call for help. That no matter what, you remain alone. Always, alone," the Master darkly whispered out.

The fear inside the man's eye was supposed to be intoxicating to the Master. It was supposed to give him the green light to electrocute the man to death. Let him know who the supreme being was. But as with others before, only despair and loneliness filled him. Despair when he thought of his race and loneliness when he realized that there was no longer a burning satisfaction at a human's death. He would've rather killed the hostile Time Lords from two years ago, the Master admitted, then waste his efforts on some stupid human.

So the Master released his grip from around the sputtering man's throat and pushed him none too gently into the door.

"Get out before you become tomorrow's front page news," the Master warned threateningly. And this time, he meant it. Just because he didn't feel like killing for pleasure, didn't mean he wouldn't.

Forgetting to intake oxygen, the American fumbled with the snap of the door and finally released himself into safety. Or at least what he thought was safety because he didn't think he was truly safe until he was out of the man's sight.

And so the American ran, forgetting all thoughts of calling home to his pregnant wife.

Smiling to himself in demented mirth, the Master only went back to running his finger over the Noble's address. One of his hands slid into his pocket and revealed the teleportation device he'd had with him for two years.

Oh Miss Noble, I think I've made my decision.

Whew. I just kept on writing and writing until I couldn't exactly stop. Originally this chapter was a lot longer but I've decided to split it into two, to avoid overwhelming people with too much action and information. Let me know what you're thinking in a review.