Summary: Set after Midnight but before Turn Left, Donna recorded a video diary to send to Wilf that mentioned a goody bag, in Chapter 10 (Anyone Seen A View Cam); this follows on immediately after that.
Disclaimer: The BBC owns Doctor Who; always have, and probably always will.
Chapter 11 - Goody Bag View Cam Revenge
"Doctor!" Donna yelled out as she approached his bedroom, "Have you opened your goody bag yet?"
"Blimey, Donna!" he bobbed his head out of the doorway. "You can't half shout loud! I'm only standing two feet away!"
"Sorry, force of habit," she grinned sheepishly. "Have you looked in your goody bag?" she added in a quieter voice.
"No, as it happens. I was just about to. Have you looked in yours?" He nodded his head towards the bag she carried with her.
"No I haven't either." She glanced down at the bag, "Shall we open them together?"
"Why not? Come on in," he stepped aside, "we can dump them on my bed."
They smiled together like two conspirators, knelt on the bed holding the bottom of their respective goody bags, and on a count of three emptied the contents onto the Doctor's duvet cover.
Everything was small and wrapped up in gold tinged tissue paper; the Doctor's parcels had red twine and Donna's ones had green twine. "They look like Christmas presents," Donna remarked.
"Do you think we have got lots of chocolate then?" the Doctor grinned at her.
"If we're lucky!" agreed Donna. "Should we open them at exactly the same time or take turns?"
"I don't care!" he whined, "Just open the flipping things!"
"Alright, alright, keep your hair on! No need to go postal on me," warned Donna.
"Just go for it, will you, and then we'll compare notes," the Doctor impatiently suggested.
"Fine," Donna began to tear at her first small parcel. The Doctor joined in with enthusiasm.
A few minutes later, after some gasps, a couple of "Ooh, look at that"s and the odd "What the heck...?" they each had a neat little pile of knick-knacks on the bed for them to scrutinize. Most of it they guessed to be some sort of local-planet food (unless people had started resorting to giving suppositories as gifts now), and keepsakes. They each had a weird little figurine that was humanoid, but that was where the similarity stopped; and they tried to work out why they'd been given them until the Doctor noticed that the figures slotted together like a jigsaw puzzle for toddlers.
"How cute!" he remarked. "They fit so well together. It's almost as if…. oh dear!"
"What? What's the matter?" Donna peered closely at the joined figures in wonderment.
As the Doctor went to explain, he noticed something glint on Donna's finger. "Donna? Where did you get that ring?" he grabbed her hand and examined the ring twinkling in the light. It was obviously made with a diamond or diamond-like gem in an expensive and intricate setting.
"I was going to ask you about it. Have you seen it before?" Donna was beginning to get more than a bad feeling about this.
"I think it might be…," he took the ring off her finger and scrutinized the inside of it. "There's writing inside. It says 'together forever'!" he handed her the ring back. "Erm… Donna, you've been wearing an Atreen wedding ring."
"Well, it's not the first time I've worn a ring like that and not been married," she tried to joke, but there was a slight quiver in her voice.
"Except this time you might have been… actually married," he said quietly.
"But… what? Who?" she looked at him desperately. "Tell me who I married Doctor, please!" He gulped so she begged, "Please don't say it was the gropey bloke in the robes! Please don't!"
He clutched her shoulders reassuringly. "It wasn't the bloke in the robes. Nor was it the Atreen guy who sat next to you at dinner," he said, "but I'm not sure if you'll like…"
"Oh, for Pete's sake! Spit it out!" her expression turned angry. "Who do you think I married by accident?"
"Judging by the goody bags, I'd say it was me." He gave her his best puppy-dog expression, hoping desperately that she still wouldn't lash out at him.
"You?" she repeated, sounding like a far off echo. "Oh my God!" she sat back and covered her face with her hands. "Oh my God!"
He touched her shoulder. "It's not as bad as it could be, is it?" his voice held a needy tone. "At least you know me. And we don't have to…"
She brought her hands down at this and considered him, "How was that sentence going to end, eh? We don't have to what?"
"I … erm… I wish I could remember any of it from yesterday. If I knew what ceremony they used I could annul the wedding by… but that wasn't what your question was. Sorry." The Doctor had a crestfallen air about him that mystified Donna. She gave him a sympathetic look and a small smile, taking hold of his hand.
"Why don't you tell me," she rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb, "I can be a good listener, remember."
"I should have known. It's entirely my fault," he stated simply.
"Why didn't you know?" she pondered. "You always know what's going on at some point. It wasn't as if you'd arranged it or something!" Seeing his startled expression she prodded, "You didn't arrange it, did you?"
"No, of course I didn't!" he exclaimed. "But I didn't exactly stop it either, and I should have done. I'm truly sorry"
"It's not your fault!" She chewed at her lip, "Why didn't you stop it? Did something happen to you?"
"The champagne is what happened to me," he gave a wry chuckle. "Not as much as you, I know, but it did affect me… and… and I was aware that the robed guy was performing some sort of ceremony, though for some reason I didn't care. Does that sound right?" he looked inexplicably worried.
"Yes, that sounds like drunken behaviour to me. Did you get as far as dancing on the table?" she teased.
He rubbed his free hand over his face, "Blimey! I hope I didn't! No, I'm sure I didn't, 'cos I remember bringing you home." He swung their joined hands, "So what do you want to do now?"
"Hmm… right now I think I'd like to have something to eat," she considered this slowly, "and I'm open to suggestions for afterwards. What do you want to do?"
"Get off this bed. My leg has gone to sleep." Donna laughed at him. "I'll dish up my wonderful casserole, and we'll decide from there, shall we?" he stumbled slightly as he got off the bed, and they jointly tried to bring his leg back to life.
Donna suddenly realised her close proximity to forbidden territories and blushed profusely. "We can forget the wedding happened, if you like," she couldn't bring herself to look him in the eyes. "Though it would solve two of my problems."
"What problems would they be?" he asked with keen interest.
She risked looking up at him, "I'd get to be with you forever, and I'd find a husband."
He took a deep breath. "Donna, I…"
She dropped her gaze quickly, feeling rejected and vulnerable. "It's okay, I understand," she rose from the bed and blindly made for the door. "I was being thoughtless and selfish. I know I'm not the one you…"
The Doctor grabbed her arm and tried to turn her to face him, but she resisted the action. "It isn't that… Please Donna, I…" But he couldn't or wouldn't formulate the words to convey his thoughts.
She gave him a knowing half-hearted smile. "Yeah," was the soft reply; and she walked calmly out of his room.
He stood and watched her walk away from him, away from his thoughts, away from his feelings, and he mentally kicked himself for letting the opportunity slip away. Why didn't he say something? Maybe he should get drunk again? He had managed to marry her whilst in that state; and he must have requested it or agreed to it since the Atreen priest would never have carried out the ceremony otherwise.
The goody bag contents strewn over his bed silently mocked him, especially the fertility symbols they had been given. He pulled his 'I'm alright' persona around him like a cloak, and headed towards the kitchen to begin the pretence.
He gave the wedding gifts one last look, and shut his bedroom door.
