Inspired by a tumblr prompt: 'We 100% need to pretend to be married on this undercover mission for it to work' AU

Cover (Ten/Donna)

"Why, in all of space in time, did the TARDIS think it was a good idea to send us here!?"

The Doctor looks up from sonicking the toaster. "What do you mean?"

Donna waves around. "Here. On this planet. Where everyone in the flipping world is married." She scowls. "Honestly, I think she's having a go at us."

The Doctor stands straight. "The TARDIS doesn't send us places like that. I put in the coordinates."

This doesn't help. "Oh, so this was your idea!?" she sneers.

He looks a little sheepish. "Well….okay, I thought I was sending us a few centuries later, but this is okay!" He bounces on his feet. "We just have to act like a married couple."

She stares, scandalized.

"Not right at this very moment!" He says, although she's not sure if he's upset about that. She certainly doesn't want to think of how a dash of her own…disappointment? No. Not that. Definitely not that.

They hear a chorus of laughter from the other room. All the other couples seem to be having a good time. The Doctor waves his hand out. "Why don't you go out there? Mingle?"

Donna looks horrified. "They're too Stepford Wives for my taste." She glances around. "Honestly, this planet is like it's out of the fifties or something."

"Oh, I rather liked the Twenty-One Fifties."

She smirks and slaps at him.

"Should you be smacking your husband?" he asks, grinning.

Her eyes widen, and he leans back and then frowns. "Now that you mention it, they do seem a little cookie cutter." He leans over and the turns to Donna. "Shall we, Mrs. Noble?"

Donna glares. "That's my mother's name."

The Doctor blinks. "Mrs…."

A woman appears before them, her blonde hair immaculately placed over her perfect green with white polka dot dress. "Hello!" she says, her picturesque smile plastered onto her face. "I don't think we've met."

"I'm the Doctor, and this is my wife, Donna."

Donna stands close to him, thinking quickly. "Donna Cleaver."

The woman's expression is polite but blank. "Oh, Doctor and Mrs. Cleaver, nice to meet you. Please, do come into the family room and meet everyone!"

Donna turns and flashes the Doctor a marvelously over-the-top smile. "Shall, we, my darling?" she asks.

The Doctor boldly places his hand around her to rest on her shoulder. He feels her stiffen but then relax. She reaches out for his other hand. They walk through to the sea of 1950s suburbia with smartly dressed people having cocktails and talking about subjects ranging from their children to work to recipes. Donna feels like she's being suffocated with all this Brady Bunch nonsense.

"So, Doctor and Mrs. Cleaver, how long have you been married?" a handsome yet oddly oily-looking man with a thin mustache asks.

Donna's cheeks heat, and the Doctor's hand is very heavy on her shoulder. Yet she's terrified he'll remove it.

"Oh, it feels like it's been no time at all!" the Doctor answers with a toothy grin. "Right, my love?"

Donna meets his gaze; he's enjoying this! She can play along. "Oh yes, an eternity of pure bliss." She leans closer to him, and instantly, the scent of bananas floods over her and makes her feel…safe.

"You two look very natural together," the woman next to Thin Mustache says.

Both the Doctor and Donna blink in surprise. "We…we do?"

"Oh yes!" the woman laughs, her chestnut mane shimmering around her. "You look as if you care very deeply for one another."

Donna nearly chokes. She risks a glance up at the Doctor, who, if he was shocked, has recovered. The hand on her shoulder squeezes a little. He looks down at her, and Donna finds she cannot look away. "She's my best friend," he says softly.

All she can do is smile back at him. That's what they are. Best mates. Although she's had good friends before. Men and women. And none of them have looked at her like that before. It scares the hell out of her. But then, what scares her more is if he's just kidding.

Somehow, she knows he's not.

"That's what it should be like!" Thin Mustache says. "Best friends make the best spouses."

And then something very odd happens. Both Thin Mustache and Chestnut Mane stand very rigid and there's an odd sort of crinkly sound. They blur in and out of focus for a split second. Donna isn't even sure she caught it correctly, because before she can react, they're "normal" again.

"Have some shrimp cocktail," Chestnut Mane says. "Betty made it, and it's to die for!"

A chill shoots down Donna's spine at the tone of the woman's voice. "Thanks," she says. "We'll go check it out."

Still in the Doctor's embrace, she turns close. "Did you see that?" she whispers.

He nods as his eyes search around the room. "You're brilliant, you know that, Donna?"

She looks up. "What?"

His eyes are focused on one of the paintings not he wall. "You said it was all too perfect. And that made me think that it's fake. And it is. It's a simulation."

"From where?"

"That's what we're going to find out."

"Do you think it's generated based on us?"

His eyebrows furrow. "Could be."

Donna glances around. "I don't think so," she says "I mean, why would it create world where we have to be married?"

The Doctor's mouth opens to reply, and his eyes glance down, holding hers. Donna's nerves are a jumble of excitement and fear. She instinctively starts to back up, maybe even push at him for once again getting them into a ridiculous mess. But her feet won't move.

Instead, she heaves a sigh. "Guess it has a sense of humor," she says. "Thinking we'd be a couple."

The Doctor nods, his expression little sad. "Well, best mates. Maybe it got confused."

Donna nods, finding a relived sense of safety behind the 'best mates' label. "Yeah, that must be it."

The Doctor's hand drops from her shoulder. She wishes he'd put it back. Reflexively, she holds on tight to the hand she hasn't released.

"Shall we?" he asks.

She smiles. "Yeah, let's go figure this out."