Previously…..
The Doctor looked down at her and scoffed. "She is an enormous beast being bombarded by a massive amount of post-clutching hormones. You can't be certain of how she'll react."
"Yes. I can!" she exclaimed.
"You saw how she reacted to me," he replied. "What makes you so sure she'll be any different with you?!" he asked, dismissively.
"Because, you arrogant arse," she shouted. "She TOLD me!'
Chapter Ten – Celebrations, and a little Bonding
The Doctor stared, his mouth gaping like a fish. "But…but…how…you…WHAT?" he stuttered.
"Listen, Doctor," she snarled at him. "We haven't got time for this. Just give me the flippin' meds and get out of my bloody way!" She reached down and grabbed the syringe and jar, and pushed past the gobsmacked Time Lord. She strode purposefully down the steps and into the birthing bowl.
As she slowly approached the recumbent dragon, Magarath raised her head and turned toward Donna. The two looked each other in the eye for a few moments, and then the blue dragon made a soft, melodic crooning sound and slowly uncurled her tail, giving Donna unencumbered access to the rapidly-drying egg. Donna stroked her flank in thanksgiving and settled down to begin her ministrations.
The Hatchery was absolutely silent, with every creature - dragon, Pendragoran and Time Lord alike - holding their collective breath, watching the ginger woman performing her task. She took her time and covered the surface of the large egg, smoothing the thick ointment in even strokes, making sure to coat every millimetre.
When she had run out of the ointment, she wiped her hands on her trousers without a second thought, and moved on to the queen herself. Donna had assisted the Doctor and Annarion when they had given the other queens their inoculations, so she was aware that there were only a few areas on the queen's body that were not covered in thick scales where she could inject the anti-toxin. She was nervous about this part of it, but she refused to let anyone, especially the Doctor, see her falter.
'Magarath, sweeheart,' she thought to the queen. 'I'm going to need a little help here. Can you show me the best place to give you this injection? I will try very hard not to hurt you. But this is extremely important.'
Magarath nodded. 'I trust,' she replied to Donna. She craned her head and turned her neck to the side, exposing the underside of her jaw. 'Here.'
Donna smiled and ran her hand softly over the smoother, less scaled skin of her lower jaw. Taking the alcohol wipe the Doctor had wrapped around the syringe, she cleaned and prepped the area. Then, removing the cap from the syringe, she tapped it and expertly pushed a tiny amount of the solution out to disburse any air from the needle. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," she said, her voice loud in the silence. "It's going to pinch a bit." She slowly pushed the needle into the muscle and pressed down on the plunger, injecting the serum into the dragon. Magarath cringed but made no sound, and Donna ran her hand gently over the queen's head, crooning softly to her.
The blue queen lay back down with her egg and slowly closed her eyes. Donna gathered the remains of the medications and walked back up the steps. When she reached the Doctor, she thrust the empty syringe and jar into his hands. He started to say her name but she quickly cut him off. "Not now, Time Boy," she stated dully, and walked away.
He found her thirty minutes later, sitting alone in the dark on one of the benches in the sunning area outside the Volery. He watched her for a while, and what he observed tore his hearts to pieces. Donna sat in the middle of the bench, her shoulders slumped and her head bowed, gorgeous ginger hair falling down, concealing her face from his view. He walked over slowly, his hands shoved into his trouser pockets, and waited a moment for her to acknowledge him.
"What do you want, Doctor?" she asked from behind the curtain of hair.
He cringed at the dejected tone of her voice and the formal use of his title. "May I?" he asked simply, giving her the option to tell him to sod off. She raised her head and looked at him, her eyes filled with dejection, anger, sadness...and shame. It was this last that concerned him the most. He could tell she had been crying. She didn't say anything in response, but merely moved over to give him room to sit.
He desperately wanted to grab her hands and tell her everything was going to be alright. But he knew instinctively that she needed to keep some emotional distance right now. So he just looked her in the eye and asked, "How long have you known?"
She blinked a few times to clear the unshed tears and twisted the handkerchief in her lap. "When I was a little girl," she began slowly, in a whisper the Doctor had to strain to hear. "I used to, well, know things. I remember, I was probably about three, and I came home from playing at a neighbour's house and announced that Rowland, the neighbour's cat, was going to have babies and asked could I have one? Well, Mum tried quietly to tell me that Rowland was a boy cat, and boys don't have babies. I told her she was wrong and stomped my foot, insisting I wanted one of Rowland's babies!"
The Doctor smiled at the thought of a tiny Donna standing up to her mother. "Well, as you can image, that didn't go over very well. She smacked me and told me to stop being foolish, and sent me to bed without supper. It only made things worse when, a few months later, Rowland, or should I say Rowena, had a litter of seven kits. Mum was very angry and wouldn't let me have one, no matter how much I cried and told her I had been right." She saw the Doctor trying to hide a smirk. "Okay, so maybe that wasn't the best way to go about it, but I was three, for god's sake!"
He was relieved to see her smile slightly and said nothing, hoping his silence would encourage her to continue. "It happened fairly often when I was a kid," she went on. "It's not like a heard voices or anything barmy like that. I would just get these feelings, you know?. I could tell if someone was upset or angry, even when they tried hard to disguise it. I knew the first time my Nan got sick, long before she went to the doctor. In fact, I was the one to persuade her to go. I was twelve, if I remember correctly."
She unconsciously squeezed the cloth in her hand. "Thinking back on it, I'm sure it must have scared Mum. She's not the most flexible person in the world," she said, drawing a snort from the Doctor. She smacked him lightly on the knee, which eased the ache in his hearts a bit. "She likes things neat and tidy and, well, I was never either of those things. Anything she couldn't explain was either a mistake or a lie. I learned to not say anything in front of her. I tried so hard to get her approval that, gradually, I think I suppressed whatever it was to the point that it no longer happened."
The Doctor inwardly seethed at the treatment Donna received from her mother, but wisely said nothing. Donna could tell he was controlling himself and she was grateful. "I hadn't had an 'episode' for a very long time. And then..." she stopped and swallowed.
At this point, he couldn't restrain himself any longer. He reached over and took her hands in his. "It was the Oodsphere, wasn't it?" he asked simply. She nodded. "I should have guessed. It was far easier than it should have been to open your mind to the Ood." He looked down at her, his eyes confused and a little hurt. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Donna abruptly pulled her hands from his and turned away, moving farther down the bench. "What?" she barked. "And let you see just what kind of a freak I really am!?"
The Doctor gritted his teeth. Sylvia Noble had so much to answer for. He desperately wanted to enfold Donna in a warm, tight hug but settled for gently touching her shoulder and pulling her back toward him. "Freak?!" he exclaimed. "Is that how you see yourself? Oh, Donna. Don't you see? You have a gift!"
Donna's head shot up and she stared at him. "That's what Kylarath said to me!"
"What? When?"
"That morning I spent with Kyla. It was the first time I actually heard someone again. She called me Dona, which Kyla said meant gift."
"Ah," he chuckled. "Astute creatures, these dragons. I'm not surprised they took to you so readily." Looking at her tear-streaked face, he said seriously "Donna, you never need to hide anything from me. Why didn't you tell me after the Oodsphere?"
She dropped her eyes, not wanting him to see the fear she felt. "You already know more about me than anyone else, as it is. I..." she stopped, ashamed of her thoughts, afraid of hurting his feelings. He stroked her upper arm in support. "I didn't want you in my head! Alright?!" she cried.
At that, he pulled her into his arms and hugged her to his chest as the tears began to fall again. "Oh, Donna," he whispered. "I would never enter anyone's mind without permission, and especially not my best friend!" He stroked her hair soothingly. " If you like, I can teach you how to set up shields, so that you only hear what and whom you choose to hear. And you can prevent anyone from seeing into your mind, until and unless you want them to. Even me!" He lightly kissed the top of her head. "Sound good?"
"Thank you, Spaceman," came the muffled reply.
They sat that way for some time, until Donna gently pulled away from his embrace, and blew her nose noisily. They were both caught off guard when a voice broke the silence. "So. This is where the two of ya got to. I have a cavern full of dragons and riders wantin' to thank ya." Kyla stepped out of the darkness. "Come on, now. Dragons are an impatient bunch!"
Donna hastily wiped her eyes with her handkerchief. "You go," she whispered. "I must look a fright."
The Doctor grabbed her hand and stated emphatically, "Not a chance. I'm not going in there alone! Besides," he whispered. "You look lovely." He dragged her up off of the bench and they made their way back into the Volery. Kyla watched them thoughtfully, with a small smile, as they walked hand in hand.
As soon as they reached the second level, they were greeted by cheers and applause from the riders and a beautiful melody crooned by the dragons. Donna immediately stepped behind the Doctor in embarrassment. Before they took another step, a small red-headed blur came streaking in their direction, squealed and latched herself onto Donna's arm.
"Oh! Donna! Oh! Thank you so much! Maga told me what you did for her, what you said to her," Maggie exclaimed. "You'll be here for the Bonding, right?" She looked at Donna expectantly. "Oh, please! You have to be here for the Bonding!"
Donna was overwhelmed, literally and figuratively, at the young girl's outburst. She glanced over at the four men who were trailing along behind her. She recognized Korsarion, and assumed the other three were the remaining brothers. Donna asked the dragon rider, "Bonding? What does she mean?"
Kyla stepped over to the two of them. "It's the ceremony at the time of hatching, when the new dragon choses its bond-mate and they imprint."
Donna didn't want to disappoint Maggie, but she knew, now that the problem had been solved, the Doctor would be impatient to be on his way. It was hard but she replied, "Maggie. Sweetheart. That would be lovely but, well, we've already been here a lot longer than we had planned and, the dragons aren't in any danger. So it's time we were on our way. I'm so sorry. But I'll make sure to come by and say goodbye before I leave. Right, Doctor?" She looked up at him, her eyes pleading with him.
He looked from his companion to the anxious young queen-mate. He was struck at the resemblance and had a flash of what Donna may have looked like as a young woman, an image he tucked away in his mind for later review. "How long before the egg hatches?" he asked calmly.
"No more than a fortnight," Kyla replied. "Especially in the case of a first egg." She had a suspicion as to what was in his mind, and she was inwardly pleased.
"A fortnight?" he replied, rubbing the back of his neck, in what Donna knew was an exaggerated fashion. "I don't know. We have been here quite a while." He pursed his lips and frowned in deep thought. "On the other hand, we really should see this process to its logical conclusion, don't you agree, Donna?" He looked over at her and gave a surreptitious wink.
"We really should," she agreed. "Make the final reports more complete, yeah?"
"Exactly!" he stated. "After all this, we can't have incomplete reports." He tapped his forefinger against his chin. "Well," he drawled. "I supposed we could hang about for another couple of weeks. In fact, other than the labs and our suite, I really haven't seen much of this planet. I understand there are Crystal Caves that I really shouldn't miss!"
The walls of the cavern echoed with Maggie's squeal of delight, and she impulsively threw her arms around the Doctor's waist, hugging him tightly. He burst into charmed but slightly embarrassed laughter, and patted the young girl's shoulder, a little self-consciously. Donna looked over at him and mouthed, 'Thank you.' He nodded and smiled warmly, 'You're welcome.'
True to form, the Doctor did spend some considerable time the first week in the labs, making final notations and documenting every step that had been taken. But Donna managed to drag him away on occasion for some rest and relaxation. He joined her and Korsarion for their trip to the Crystal Caves, Setarion and Serioth kindly transporting him.
The Caves were are as remarkable Korsarion had said. The walls shone with dancing sparkles of light, and chimed softly as small droplets of water fell from cracks in the ceiling. Donna was entranced and the Doctor spent as much time gazing at her as he did admiring the geological structures. He did, however, manage to give a rather detailed and colourful lecture on the various methods of crystal formation, until Donna clamped her hand over his mouth and dragged him out of the cave, much to the amusement of the two dragon riders.
Donna and Korsarion revisited the Bathing Pool, while the Doctor took a tour of the manufacturing facilities. He asked a very surprised Finntarel to accompany him, and introduced him to the head of shipping. After a brief bout of self-consciousness, the young Pendragoran joined in the discussion of how to make improvements on the landing docks and cargo berths. After a while, the Doctor quietly backed out of the room, leaving Finntarel and the managers to their own devices. He had no doubt that the young man had served his last day as a lab gofer. He walked back to the guest quarters, whistling happily, rather pleased with himself.
All in all, it was a very relaxing two weeks for Donna and the Doctor. She continued to work on the needlework that she had begun with the queen riders. She wove a cover for her grandfather's telescope, figured with stars, moons and planets. She stitched a light scarf for her mother with delicate flowers in shades of pink and mauve, colours Sylvia was particularly partial to. She was secretly hoping it would prove to her that she wasn't completely useless.
The Doctor finally managed to cajole her into getting up at dawn to see Dragonflight, and the sight so overwhelmed and delighted her that she readily repeated it several more times. They would stand together at the railing of the balcony, Donna wrapped in a blanket, with the Doctor's arm around her shoulder, hugging her tightly to him, partially to keep her warm in the pre-dawn chill, and partially because, well, he just liked it.
By the second week, Donna could tell he was beginning to get a little twitchy. He had never stayed in one place as long as this without a major crisis, or being imprisoned. One morning, she watched him eye the coffee maker with a predatory gleam while moaning about how long it was taking to brew, and spouting off ideas for improvements in efficiency and brew quality. She swatted his hand as he reached to grab the back of the machine.
"You know what?" she stated. "You're bored, is what you are. Can't sit still for five minutes, can you?' She poured the now brewed coffee and set a cup in front of him. "You'd be a right disaster to play chess with."
He looked over at her, his cup halfway to his lips. "You play chess?" he asked, astonished.
"Well, don't sound so surprised, you prawn! I used to play all the time with my Dad. Was pretty good at it, too." She took a sip of coffee. "Mum wouldn't let me join the Chess Club in secondary school. Said it wasn't ladylike."
He gazed at her thoughtfully. "Fancy a game with me?" he asked, hopefully. "If we can find a set, that is."
She smiled, proud of herself for her little ploy. The silly Martian. He was so easily diverted. "Promise you won't pout when I beat your skinny little Time Lord arse?" she asked, saucily.
He grinned manically. "Well, we'll just see about that, missy! And, just to be clear, I don't pout!"
And so began the great test of wits, pitting Human against Time Lord. The Doctor was able to procure a beautiful set, dragons versus riders, made of multi-coloured stone that was unusually cool to the touch. They played every night after supper, and he was pleasantly surprised to find she was a formidable opponent. She was clever and cunning in her moves, and caught him off-guard on several occasions. They laughed and argued, and both enjoyed the mental challenge. Donna was chuffed at being able to hold her own with the Doctor, and he was equally pleased to find another layer to his companion.
One morning toward the end of the second week, they had taken up their game from where they left it the night before. They were engrossed that they were startled when they heard a bell peeling outside in the courtyard. Kyla had advised them that this bell would toll when hatching was imminent. They jumped up from the dining table and quickly made their way to the Hatchery, where a large crowd had already begun gathering.
Donna noticed a flurry of activity taking place in the open area adjacent to the Hatchery. Several large tents were being erected around a massive pavilion. People in all manner of livery were scurrying back and forth, with tables, chairs, boxes and bins. But what should have looked like chaos actually seemed quite orderly. From one of the large tents, smoke billowed.
They were met at the entrance by Lysarion, who had been sent to show them to the seats that had been reserved for them. He led them down into the Birthing Bowl to nearly the bottom, where a small platform with chairs had been set up. Kyla was already seated, and there were three empty chairs, two on her right and one on her left. Lysarion took his place at his great-great grandmother's left, while the Doctor took the seat directly to Kyla's right, leaving the other chair for Donna. The rest of the space was taken up by other Pendragoran dignitaries.
There was another platform directly opposite them but there were no chairs. A group of young men and women stood around, whispering self-consciously amongst themselves. Around the rim above were more chairs and groups of dragon riders milling about. Sprawled out between the two platforms on the floor of the bowl, Magarath lay with her tail again curled protectively around her egg.
Kyla leaned across the Doctor and addressed Donna. "The young people over there are the potential bond-mates. Since we won't know until it hatches whether the hatchling is male or female, both sexes are represented. Their families are seated above them, in those chairs at the edge of the bowl."
Donna turned toward Kyla, leaning against the Doctor's knees. "What's going on outside?" she asked. "I assume it has something to do with the hatching."
Kyla replied, "It's for the celebration. We always have one after every hatching. Ya have to come. Yer the guests of honour, ya know."
The Doctor stood up suddenly, startling the two women. He looked a bit exasperated and said, "Shift over, Donna. As much as I love ginger hair, I don't care to try and watch the proceedings through two heads of it!" Donna looked up at him and then at Kyla, and burst out laughing. The older woman muffled a decidedly girlish giggle and, taking his hand, gently pulled him back down into his seat, patting him on the shoulder in a motherly fashion. He gave Donna a withering look and she choked back her laughter.
Before they could continue their conversation, however, the cavern was filled with a deep hum, almost more felt than heard, that had been steadily building while they had been talking. Kyla pointed to the centre of the bowl floor, where Magarath had uncurled her tail and moved back slightly from the egg, which was rocking ever so slightly. As the hum increased, the melody was taken up by the other dragons, who were perched at the entrances to the surrounding caves, and the egg moved back and forth more deliberately.
As the onlookers watched, the egg began to vibrate and a faint tapping sound could be heard. The tapping grew louder and more distinct, and tiny cracks began forming on the surface. The intensity of the humming was palpable. Finally, as everyone held their collective breath, a small piece of shell popped off and the tip of a snout appeared. The egg rocked more forcefully as the hatchling inside chipped away and the opening widened. The curve of the beak-like snout emerged and, with an energetic shake, the egg cracked in two and the hatchling sat on one of the halves, blinking in the light and mewling.
The crowd as one gasped as they observed the newly hatched dragon. It was a female, which was reason in and of itself for celebration. But what caused the assembled crowd to whisper excitedly was the colour of this female. She wasn't a true blue, like Magarath or Kylarath, but a beautiful dark teal. Her scales glittered with shades of green and gold, giving her an iridescent shimmer when she moved. She continued to sit in the half shell and cry softly, until Magarath nudged her over with her snout.
The hatchling rolled off the shell and began to waddle around, stumbling to and fro before lurching toward one side of the bowl. Unfortunately, it wasn't the side where the potential bond-mates stood huddling on the platform. Instead, the young dragon made a faltering beeline in the opposite direction, coming to a tumbling halt in front of Donna, looking up at her and making a plaintive mewling sound.
Donna immediately stepped off the platform and knelt in front of the hatchling. 'Hello there, little one,' she 'said' to her. The dragon perked up at Donna's voice in her head and croon questioningly. 'No, no, my sweet girl. Not me,' Donna replied, shaking her head. 'You must find your true bond-mate.' She stroked her head between the tiny horns, and gently turned her around. 'There you go,' she gave the hatchling a tiny push in the direction of the other platform. 'Go on now, love. She's waiting for you.' The hatchling took a few halting steps, then turned her head to look back at the woman still kneeling on the ground. "Yes," she said aloud, laughing. "That way! Shoo!"
The young dragon lurched forward once again and, seeing the platform, stopped a moment and tilted her head first one way, then the next. Suddenly, she straightened up and began to lope purposefully toward the group of young women assembled there, picking up speed as she went. When she neared the platform, she trumpeted, a tiny sound in comparison to a full-sized dragon, but a trumpet nonetheless. One of the young women, a tall, slender girl of about twenty-three, with chestnut brown hair and beautiful caramel-coloured eyes, stepped forward to the edge of the platform and cried out, "She says her name is Jennerath!" Then she jumped off the platform and hugged the little blue-green dragon tightly.
Kyla left her seat and walked to the middle of the bowl. "The dragon has chosen," she proclaimed formally, in a voice surprisingly loud, which reverberated around the cavern. "From this day forth, Jennellia shall be known as Jennerion, a queen mate. Let us acclaim and show our approbation to the new pair!" The cavern erupted in cheers and applause, of which Jennerion and Jennerath were totally oblivious.
The Doctor stepped down and reached out to help Donna to her feet. His face told her that he had some inkling of what had transpired, and that he heartily approved. The warmth of his smile and the gentleness of his touch made her heart flutter a bit, and she bent down to dust the dirt off her knees, to hide the blush she knew was tinging her face. "Thank you," she said simply, straightening up and looking at him once she had regained her composure.
His smile softened and he shook his head slightly. "You are truly magnificent, you know that?"
The blush she had tried to hide resurfaced, and she smacked him sharply in the arm. "Aw, go on, you daft Martian!" she exclaimed.
He laughed and assisted her back up onto the platform, where they were soon joined by Kyla. "Thank ya both," she said immediately. "This day would never have come without yer help."
The Doctor waved his hand absently. "Glad we were able to find a solution. The extinction of these beautiful creatures would have been a great loss. Now," he started to say but Kyla cut him off sharply.
"I know that look, Theta," she stated, eyeing him narrowly. "Yer thinkin' of packin' up and boltin' out of here, aren'tcha?"
Before he could respond, Donna grasped his arm tightly and declared, "Not until tomorrow. We will be at the celebration later. Right, Doctor?!" she asked pointedly, while digging her fingernails into the fabric of his coat.
He frowned at her, saw her look of fierce determination, and thought better of refuting her. "Of course, Donna," he answered with a quick, slightly forced, smile. "I wouldn't dream of missing a party!"
Kyla smirked at both Donna's taking command of the situation, and the Doctor's ready capitulation to her wishes. She sighed. If only these two would talk!
After saying their goodbyes to Kyla and the other dignitaries, assuring them once again that they would certainly see them later at the celebration, the two time travellers walked back toward their quarters. Donna stated her intention of 'having a bit of a lie down', while the Doctor claimed he needed to 'clear up a few things' back at the lab. She made him swear on the heart of the TARDIS that he would make it back in time for the party.
It was later than he had planned when the Doctor finally stepped through the side entrance to the main Pavilion. It was already quite full, and it looked like a musical ensemble was setting up. There were long tables to one side, loaded down with a dishes and platters and tureens with all manner and variety of food and drink. There were liveried wait-staff with trays of starters and glasses of wine.
He looked around at the assembled guests and eventually located Kyla, seated on a raised dais. He snagged a couple of glasses of a dark plum wine and made his way through the small crowd. As he approached, she looked up and gave him a bright, if somewhat cheeky, smile, and gestured for him to take the seat next to her. He stepped up on the dais and handed her a glass, and sat down.
"Quite the party." he observed drily.
"We usually have a small gathering for the family and friends of the new riders," she replied. "But I thought, since it had been so long since we had reason ta celebrate at all, a much bigger to-do was in order." She sipped her wine slowly and looked over at him. "I was thinkin' ya might not make an appearance. You are a guest of honour, ya know."
He sighed. "I hate this sort of thing. But I couldn't disappoint Donna. I promised I'd come by after I finished in the lab."
"Well, she'll be pleased to see ya kept that promise."
The Doctor was scanning the gathering, trying to spot his companion, which was made all the more difficult by the preponderance of ginger hair. It was usually so easy to find her in a crowd; her hair generally shone out like a small supernova. Kyla noticed his confusion and pointed to a group of women standing together near the bandstand, talking animatedly.
At first he was sure she was mistaken, But just then, one of the women laughed and he recognized the timbre as uniquely Donna's. He peered at the group again and realized he was staring right at her without recognizing her. She was dressed in a formal Pendragoran gown in a rich forest green with long, wide sleeves, and belted with a dark brown leather girdle embossed with Gallifreyan symbols. Her hair had grown quite long in the two months they had been on the planet, and was now plaited into a thick braid that fell down the middle of her back, and was interweaved with ribbons of varying shades of green, tied at the ends with tiny bronze bells that, with his superior Time Lord senses, he could hear tinkling with her every move.
'Dear god,' he thought to himself, 'she is stunning!'
Just as he was about to call out to her, the band began their first set, a moderately brisk gavotte, and he watched as a tall young man in full rider livery walked over to Donna, bowed deeply, and put out his hand. She giggled and, at the urging of the other women, put her hand in his, and he led her away to the dance floor.
The Doctor watched as the rider showed Donna the steps, which she quickly learned, and then they joined the other couples. He felt a strange unease, an odd gnawing in his stomach, at seeing his companion twist and twirl in the arms of another man. She wasn't a petite woman, but she was remarkably graceful and light on her feet, going up on her toes and gesturing with her arms as the dance demanded. Observing her, the way she was dressed, her grace, the swing of her braided hair, brought back memories of a cottage in an orchard, and a lifetime long gone past.
Kyla had been watching the Doctor out of the corner of her eye. She sipped her wine and remarked casually, "Young Korsarion is quite taken with yer Donna."
Her voice broke him out of his reverie. "That boy is way out of his depth," he snorted. "Donna would eat him alive and still have room for afters!" He gave her a lopsided grin. 'Reminds me a lot of you," he said softly, still watching Donna dance.
"Oh, does she now? And how is that?" Kyla asked, innocently.
"Well, she's beautiful." He smiled and sipped his wine.
"Flatterer!" She swatted at his arm and laughed.
"It's not flattery if it's true!" He snickered, but a moment later continued in a more serious vein. "She's smart. Rassilon, she's smart. You saw that. But I just can't seem to make her believe me when I tell her how brilliant she is!"
Kyla nodded and looked over at him. "Well," she said. "Maybe that's why yer TARDIS locked the two of ya out. Ta give Donna a chance to shine."
His brow furrowed as he pondered her words. Pulling at his ear, he agreed. "That's a distinct possibility. And shine she did. I would never have been able to produce the cure without her." He drank some more of his wine. "By the way, don't let her catch you calling her that." Kyla looked at him quizzically. "You called her 'my Donna'. She's nobody's anything! She's an independent woman, with her own mind and her own opinions!" He laughed at the thought. "That's another way you're alike. She stubborn! She never lets me get away with anything, that one!"
He turned back to watching where Donna continued to dance. She had changed partners and was now coupled with Lysarion, Kyla's great-great grandson. Almost to himself, he continued, "She keeps me honest, in check. She grounds me, and supports me. "
"And you love her," Kyla stated simply.