PARTNERS IN CRIME
"Make new friends, but keep the old;
Those are silver, these are gold."
Joseph Parry
It had been a long time since Hartley had been in a proper office. It smelt strongly of printer ink and microwavable food. And it was noisy with at least one phone always ringing, the continuous whistle of the kettle and the hum of chatter drifting out from all of the individual cubicles scattered around the room, rather like a network of tunnels. It wasn't exactly glamorous, but she found it familiar.
Memories of meetings which went well on into the night flooded her head. Time spent pouring over cover art and tour dates and publication laws. She missed it in a sense, missed having a job and real responsibility, but she wouldn't have given up the life she had now simply to go back to it.
It truly paled in comparison, being so un-extraordinary as it was.
"Can I help you?" a voice asked unexpectedly, jolting her from her absentminded reminiscing.
Blinking, she looked up to find a short, balding man staring down at her from behind a pair of thick glasses. "No, I'm fine, thank you," she said politely, turning back to the pamphlet in her hands. Something about vegan dietary supplements – she couldn't know for sure, she was only pretending to read it. Ten pamphlets in, the words were all beginning to look like nonsensical squiggles.
"It's just, you've been sitting here for awhile now," he said awkwardly, and she got the feeling he didn't want to be talking to her, but was being forced to by someone else. Probably management. "Are you sure there isn't something I can help you with?"
"I'm waiting for someone," she explained.
"I'm afraid loitering is against our policy," he told her in the kind of voice that made it clear he was shooting for firm, but wildly missing the mark.
"Not to worry, she's with me."
Muscles relaxing with relief, Hartley leaned around the man to spy the Doctor strolling up to them, already holding out the psychic paper for him to see.
"Health and Safety," he continued in the same, confident breath, barely casting the man a second glance, even as he squinted suspiciously at the psychic paper.
"Health and Safety?" the man echoed, skepticism radiating off him like a stench.
"Surprise inspection," replied the Doctor without blinking, the paper disappearing back into his pocket.
"Uh, very well, then," the man muttered, even more awkward than before. "Sorry, miss."
Before she could so much as open her mouth to reply the Doctor had grasped her by the hand. He yanked her up out of her chair and away from the conversation, bouncing enthusiastically on his toes as they moved.
"What took you so long?" she complained, holding his hand tighter, unashamedly enjoying the feel of his cool skin against hers. "Do you have any idea how many pamphlets I've read? I've learnt more about calorie intake today than I have in my whole thirty years combined."
They slipped from the doors, stepping out into the fading light of the day. "I can't put my finger on what it is exactly, but something's not right about this place. I got one of the employees to print out a list of their clients. Thought we could go see one each, try and figure out everything we could. I'll be using this hydraulic stabiliser to track any unusual concentrations of fat, but if we split up we'll cover more ground."
He pulled them to a stop, the spring air cool on their exposed skin and the sky a soft pink from the setting sun. Handing her a list, Hartley let go of his hand to take it, staring down at the long list of names with a frown.
"Valerie Burton," he said, pointing a long finger to a name towards the top of the list. "She lives only a few streets over from here."
"Where'll you be going?"
"Roger Davey, just down the end of this road," he revealed, gesturing vaguely in that direction. "I'll meet you back here when you're done?"
"Any red flags to watch out for?"
"Side effects, strange dreams, lights in the sky," he listed briskly. "Anything out of the ordinary."
"Gotcha," Hartley nodded. He smiled back distractedly, shoving his hands into his pockets and turning to leave.
"Doctor!" she called after him, and he paused, standing still for a moment before turning back to look at her in confusion. She smiled, the expression open and wide as she danced to his side, pressing herself up onto her toes to kiss him soundly on the cheek. Pulling away, she was gifted with his surprised eyes and pink cheeks. Grinning, Hartley patted his chest, material of his Janis Joplin coat smooth and familiar under her hand. "See you soon," she said simply, taking pleasure from his bewildered expression before strolling away, heading for the address listed on the pink paper scrunched in her hand.
The house in question was modest, made of brick with a nice, arching entryway through which pink roses grew. It was small, pressed between two duplexes without much in the way of a garden, but for a home in the city, it was rather perfect.
Rapping four times on the red, wooden door, Hartley waited until a woman opened it, pasting a wide smile across her lips.
"Hi, Valerie Burton? My name's Hartley Daniels, I'm here on behalf of Adipose Industries. I don't suppose you have a few minutes to talk about your experience with our product?" she asked in her most professional voice.
The woman who'd answered, all bright orange hair and teeth with a gap in the middle, smiled back politely. "I'm halfway through making dinner," she replied in a distinct Irish accent. "But you're more than welcome to come in anyway, if you don't mind my attention being split," she added, and Hartley's smile became more genuine.
"Thank you," she said, slipping inside the house. The inside was decorated with a nautical theme, but Hartley found it more charming than tacky. "You like the sea?" she asked lightly, letting the taller woman lead her down the narrow hallway towards the kitchen, from which the strong scent of chicken broth leaked out, saturating the air and making Hartley's stomach growl with hunger.
"Me dad was a sailor," Valerie replied, a fond smile gracing her face as she gestured for her guest to take a seat on the barstool at the small island. "Tea? Coffee?"
"No thanks, I'm fine. I've gotta say though, your dinner smells good," she said lightly.
"Me gran's recipe. Something of a family secret," Valerie told her with a smile. "So, Hartley Daniels, what do you want to know?" she asked, picking up a large spoon and hovering over her filled pot, methodically stirring the broth within.
"Well, to start, how are you finding your experience with these pills?" Hartley asked, deciding to just jump right in.
"They're the most brilliant thing I've ever bought," Valerie began eagerly. "I've lost eight kilos in eight days. It's a borderline miracle."
"You're looking fantastic," Hartley replied, meaning every word. She looked simply gorgeous, carrying a glow that Hartley attributed less to the pills and more to her own generated happiness.
"Thank you so much," Valerie gushed, blue eyes bright at the compliment, a giddy feeling in her gut that Hartley found nearly contagious. "I'm hoping to lose another eight, though," she said, smile dropping into a frown as she glanced self consciously down at her stomach.
Hartley wanted to reassure her that she looked fine the way she was, but the woman was entitled to her own choices. If she wanted to lose more weight, and as long as she could do so safely, who was Hartley to judge whether she did or not? But that was the question, wasn't it? Was it safe?
"So you began eight days ago, then?" she asked instead, leaning her elbows on the counter and watching as Valerie began to toss pinches of various spices into her simmering stew. "No sign of any side effects?"
"None," Valerie told her cheerfully. "Like I said, best thing I ever bought."
"How did you hear about Adipose Industries?" Hartley pressed. "Was it an ad, or recommended by a friend...?"
"Got an email," she replied with a casual lift of her shoulders. "It was heaven-sent, I'm sure. Kyle wouldn't look twice at me before – now look at me!"
"Kyle?" Hartley asked playfully.
Valerie's pale, freckled cheeks flushed pink, and that same giddy feeling fizzled in her stomach like popping candy. "He's this guy at my university." she said quietly. "He sits beside me in my Advanced Linguistics class."
"And let me guess, he's a total babe?" Hartley drawled, amusement curling at her lips.
Valerie flushed even darker. "I was always trying to get his attention, but he never gave me the time of day, not until I started taking the pills. Just yesterday he asked if I wanted to study with him some time. Me! And it's all thanks to these pills."
Hartley didn't want to say anything, but she couldn't help herself. "He wasn't interested in you before you started losing weight?" she asked, not liking the sound of it.
Seeming surprised by the question, Valerie blinked, frowning as she answered. "Well, no, but that's understandable." Hartley definitely had some strong opinions about that, but the last thing she wanted was to come across as rude, so she kept her lips sealed shut. "I can tell you disapprove," said Valerie, but she didn't sound angry, if anything she seemed mildly amused.
This time Hartley really couldn't keep silent. "Well, I just think that anyone you need to change yourself for isn't really worth your time," she said, utterly honest but still gentle, hoping not to hurt the younger woman's feelings.
Valerie nodded, listening to her carefully as she adjusted the heat of the stove. "Haven't you ever liked someone that much? Liked them to the point where it hurt, but they barely even gave you a second glance?" she asked, sweet and curious at the same time.
Hartley hadn't – not exactly – but she understood what she was saying. She could apply it to her relationship with the Doctor, if some of the parameters were blurred a little.
She'd adored the Doctor and his lifestyle since day one, but he'd been less than impressed by her in return. She would never say she really felt hated by him, but resented at times? Most definitely.
All she'd wanted was to be his friend, to be part of his life. But, in all of that, she'd never once changed what she believed or how she acted or what she looked like. She wasn't the type of person to compromise her integrity for the sake of a guy. The fact that Valerie was didn't make her a lesser person, it made her a younger person, one who needed to grow more in themselves to discover that, if a boy didn't like you for you, he wasn't worth the trouble.
"I finally got my guy," Hartley revealed quietly, and Valerie looked up from her broth with bright curiosity. "Took me a good few years, but finally we're together. It's new and a little scary, but he's still him and I'm still me, and I'm happy. We both are," she said, an unconscious smile growing on her face, warmth blooming in her heart.
"Yeah, but you're already gorgeous," argued Valerie in a teasing voice, rolling her eyes and turning away.
Hartley knew there would be little that would get through to the young student – kids were stubborn about these kinds of things – so she decided to change the subject. She could just hear the Doctor's voice in her head, telling her to 'stay on topic and stop lollygagging about'.
"So you're happy with your pills, then?" she asked, keeping things moving. Valerie quickly nodded. "And your service has been satisfactory?"
"I got a home visit to ask about the service, so of course it's been satisfactory," she grinned brightly. Her energy shone almost like a light, innocence and sweetness – if there could be such an emotion – emanating from her like a beacon in the night.
Hartley really hoped that whatever was nefarious about Adipose – because surely there was something – wasn't going to harm Valerie in any way. She was too kind for anything bad to happen to, and Hartley would make sure she was safe.
"Would you like some of this?" the younger girl asked as she produced a large metal ladle, beginning to spoon herself a bowl.
"I don't want to impose," Hartley began.
"Nonsense," Valerie said, wavering her off effortlessly. "I've made enough to last me a month. You're welcome to a bowl, if you're hungry."
It had been a while since she'd eaten, and the smell of it was mouthwatering. It wasn't professional of her – but then again, it wasn't like she was getting paid to do this by anyone. The Doctor be damned, she'd eat if she wanted to. Besides, she had time to kill.
"Well, I s'pose I could eat," she admitted, and Valerie grinned, already halfway through dishing up a second bowl.
A half an hour later there was a sharp rapping at the door, and Valerie got up to answer it while Hartley finished off the last of her second helping. A moment passed and then the Doctor was slipping into the room after an amused looking Valerie.
"Really?" the Doctor began, watching with a cocked brow as Hartley quickly pushed away her bowl and wiped her mouth, struggling to look innocent. "I send you to do one job and you end up eating dinner and drinking wine with the client?" he asked dryly.
In a move that was in no way casual, Hartley pushed her nearly empty glass of wine away from her, the sound of it loud against the wooden tabletop. She could only wince.
"You're incorrigible," he sighed, and she gave him her sweetest smile, hoping she looked cute enough to get away with it.
"Is this him?" asked Valerie curiously, eyeing him with understandable interest.
"Yeah, that's him," Hartley confirmed, standing up and retrieving her jacket from where it lay on the kitchen counter, pulling it on over her shirt.
"You've been talking about me?" asked the Doctor, unable to help but preen at the information.
"Don't let it get to your head, Spacewalker," she tutted, moving over to Valerie. "It was so lovely meeting you, Valerie," she said, bringing her in for a tight hug that surprised the younger woman, before she quickly squeezed back. "Thanks for dinner, it was brilliant," Hartley added as she pulled back.
"Any time, Hart," replied her brand-new friend. "Thanks for letting me rant about Kyle."
"Remember what I said," Hartley added in a tone approaching stern.
"I can do better," recited Valerie obediently.
Hartley smiled proudly, tapping the girl on the nose before heading out into the hall. "See you!" she called over her shoulder, opening the door and stepping out into the slight chill of the evening.
The Doctor followed, letting the door click shut before he turned on her, a wide grin already on his stupid face. Hartley pointedly didn't meet his eyes.
"You've been chatting about me," he sang, looking like a right git as he sauntered through the tiny garden towards the street. Hartley just barely resisted the urge to groan as she followed, crossing her arms over her chest, unable to help the embarrassment itching at her insides. She didn't want to come across as too eager. That was bad, right?
The Doctor just kept grinning like an idiot.
"Shut up," she said without any real heat, kicking idly at a loose stone on the footpath. His grin only seemed to grow, and her cheeks went pink.
"I mean, I know I'm dashing and funny and really just downright irresistible, but did you really need to go gushing about it to a complete stranger?" he teased, adjusting his tie with a stupidly smug look on his handsome face.
"I wasn't gushing," she argued, but it fell on deaf ears.
"You just can't keep quiet about me. No, no, it's sweet. Really, it is," he gave her that shit-eating grin again, and she rolled her eyes, slapping him on the shoulder in reprimand.
They fell silent, the Doctor grinning like the madman he was and Hartley blushing up a storm. Looking up into his eyes, she suddenly wanted the upper hand. "Well, maybe I was gushing," she said in the most haughty voice she could come up with. "Whatcha gonna do about it?" she asked, swaying closer and batting her eyelids at him flirtatiously.
The Doctor's grin dropped into a look of surprise. He might have acted confident, but he forgot how long she'd been with him. She knew exactly which buttons she needed to push to make him as bashful and shy as a pre-pubescent boy with his first crush.
She smiled, her affection for him like a drug in her veins. She loved all he was, every single facet of his being, she loved it with an ardency that scared her. She had to tell him, the fact of it too loud and important for her to keep to herself. The words were on her tongue, lips opening to blurt it out without any hint of tact.
"Come on," he said suddenly, and the words died on her lips. "I want to run some tests on this thing back in the TARDIS."
And the moment was gone, that pressing urgency from before evaporating into nothing. There was time to tell him – she had all the time in the universe; besides, she wanted to be sure he was in the right place to hear it. She knew him well enough by now to know when not to put such a thing on his shoulders. For a man with two hearts, he really wasn't very good at accepting love.
The Doctor pulled a small golden pendant from the inner pocket of his jacket, holding it up for her to see in the faint glow emanating from the streetlights. She took the chain in her fingers, the gold cold to the touch.
"What is it?" she asked, bringing the little pendant closer to her eyes. It was small, shaped like a cylinder, or maybe a pill of some kind.
"the free gift that Adipose give all their customers," he grimaced down at it. "I need to know what's so important about it."
"What makes you think it's important?" she asked, holding it in her hand as they approached the TARDIS. It stood beneath a bright streetlight, the wooden exterior bathed in its ethereal white glow.
"It's made of real 18-carat gold, and they're giving it away for free," he explained, pulling out his key and unlocking the door. She slipped inside the ship, which welcomed her with a familiar hum. "In my experience, humans aren't usually so generous unless they've got something to gain."
"Hey," she cried in defence of her species. But, on second thought, could she really blame him? It wasn't exactly an untrue statement.
"I call 'em like I see 'em," he clicked his tongue in reply, the look on his face teasing, and she couldn't help but smile. He grabbed her hand, squeezing for a moment before playfully snatching the pendant from her grasp. She rolled her eyes again, watching as he grinned back like an idiot.
"Go on then," she prompted him, waving him off. "Work your science-magic. Figure it all out for us."
"When is it ever that easy?" he asked even as he bounced towards the console, fishing something from deep within his bottomless pockets.
"A girl can dream," she said dryly, collapsing onto the jump seat and staring up at the domed ceiling.
She was full from a lovely dinner from Valerie, but now she was craving something sweet. She idly wondered whether the Doctor would make a tiny detour to Italy for some gelato. She doubted it – whatever was happening here was obviously more important than her sweet tooth – and decided against asking.
"Oh, fascinating," the Doctor purred from his spot at the console, hunched over to peer through the lens of a magnifying glass. "Seems to be a bio-flip digital stitch, specifically for converting one biological material into another, perhaps even giving it life. Quite astonishing technology, actually, beyond anything I would have expected to find here, that's for sure," he chattered away, moving faster than she could keep up. She was built for languages and poetry – not for science. That much had always been clear to her, pretty much since birth.
"So what does this mean, exactly?" she asked, pushing herself up from the chair, her shoes slapping against the grating of the floor.
"I don't know," he said, pulling his glasses off his face, folding them up and tucking them back into his pocket along with the magnifying glass. "Not yet, anyway."
"So then, we head back into the lion's den?" she finished, half a plan already beginning to form in her mind.
"Only thing we can do," he agreed, picking up the pendant and tossing it to her. She snatched it from the air with ease. "Keep it safe," he added, and she obediently threaded it around her throat, letting it hang limply against her chest. "Next day, just an hour or so before it closes," he spoke aloud as he began to pilot his ship. It groaned as usual, shaking beneath their feet as they left one time and entered another. It landed with a small jolt, and then the Doctor was careening down the ramp towards the doors.
"Then what?" asked Hartley, making sure she had everything before following him, pulling her jacket more tightly around her body.
"Then we hide out, somewhere they won't find us, until closing."
"And then?"
"And then we can explore without anyone seeing."
The building was still bustling when they arrived, but they managed to slip in through the back without anyone noticing. The corridors in the bowels of the building were almost completely empty, so they were able to move without having to use the psychic paper at all.
"Here," the Doctor said, coming to a stop beside a door labelled 'storage'. It was unlocked, and so he slipped inside; with a glance back up and down the hallway, Hartley followed. The door shut behind her and the Doctor quickly used the sonic on it, locking it from the inside, meaning they would avoid detection, at least for the hour they planned to stay hidden.
"So, what're we meant to do now?" asked Hartley. The idea of sitting in the broom cupboard for the next hour or so sounded awfully boring. She wasn't even sure the Doctor could stay still for that long; he was a thousand times more restless than she was, and that was saying something.
"According to the schematics provided by the TARDIS, there's a mainframe in here," he explained, already opening up the panels on the back wall, working at the wires and conduits within.
As he worked, Hartley glanced around at the cupboard they'd locked themselves inside of. A handful of mops rested in the corner, and the shelving on the left was mostly used to house spare toilet paper. The whole room smelt of cleaning chemicals, but it wasn't altogether that unpleasant.
Time ticked by, long and arduous. Hartley pulled out her phone, fiddling with it for so long her battery went from almost completely full to almost completely dead. She pocketed it with a sigh, stretching her aching back until it popped.
The Doctor had still yet to move from where he was hunched over the mainframe in the wall. Every now and again his sonic would buzz, and occasionally he'd mutter something in a language that the TARDIS wouldn't translate, but otherwise he worked in silence.
"Are you done yet?" she asked him, aware that she sounded like a whining child but so sick of just sitting there that she didn't care.
The Doctor sighed, abandoning his work a lot more easily than she'd expected him to. He shut the panels, leaning back against the wall opposite her and pocketing his sonic once more. "I can't get into it," he revealed, allowing a tendril of disappointment to escape his walls.
Hartley blinked in surprise. "You mean we've been sitting here all this time, and you haven't even hacked into it yet?" she asked thinly.
His expression bordered the line between affronted and embarrassed. "It's triple deadlocked," he told her, his face scrunching in annoyance.
She rolled her eyes, leaning back and resting her head against the wall. Typical.
"So, what now, then?" she asked, standing back up properly and nudging at a spare bucket with the tip of her shoe.
He paused, eyes narrowed as if he were trying to hear a very small sound from very far away. "It's still twenty minutes till closing," he finally said with a nod to himself. "We just have to wait."
He fell silent, and the quiet between them stretched on. It wasn't awkward, but rather filled with a mounting tension that she couldn't explain. Her heart began to race. She couldn't figure out why the air suddenly felt thick, or why a thin sheen of sweat began to cling to the back of her neck. It was almost like she was nervous – but of what?
Her foot began to tap against the floor, a gentle thumping that matched the speed of her thundering heart. She tried to distract herself, reciting the Greek alphabet in her head, and then reciting it backwards. Twice.
It didn't work, tension building and building, though to what she didn't know. The Doctor began to speak and she latched onto his words like a lifeline. "Bit of a small cupboard," he said idly. Looking up, she met his eyes in the dim lighting of their hiding spot, finding him to look as tense as she felt.
"Well, that's the definition of the word cupboard, though, isn't it?" she replied, aware she was about to start rambling but unable to stop herself. Anything to keep the charged air in the cupboard from overwhelming her. "It's a type of furniture that originated in the Middle Ages as a board or table for cups. The word also may have been used for a stepped sideboard and later for open shelves, both to display plates. Since the 16th century the name has referred to a case fitted with doors. It then only stands to reason that such a thing would only be small enough to hold cups, as was its original purpose. Though, I do suppose the definition has since been stretched to allow for other intents, such as––"
"Are you really giving me a complete history of the word 'cupboard'?" the Doctor mercifully interjected. She was relieved – she had at least another five minutes of material on the subject, and the longer it went on the more pathetic she seemed. She glanced up at him in the faint light, finding that, instead of exasperation in his eyes, there was a warm kind of quality, like a rising fondness that brightened his chocolate gaze and pulled gently at the corners of his lips.
Her heart stuttered in her chest. "I ramble when I'm nervous," she mumbled.
His head tilted to the side, the action much like that of a curious puppy. "Why're you nervous?" he asked, that fond warmth melting into more of a confused curiosity.
Unable to answer, Hartley lifted her shoulders in vague acknowledgement. The Doctor pursed his lips, considering her carefully in the low lighting. She wished there were some kind of bulb within the room, she felt like some proper light might ease the mounting tension – but instead they were left in semi-darkness, the only light leaking in from under the door.
The Doctor suddenly reached into his pocket, rummaging around for a long moment before producing something she couldn't quite identify. He grinned, wide and proud as he gripped the object, snapping it with a dull crack. Immediately the small, cramped cupboard was full of a dull purple light, the shine coming from the glow stick in his hands.
Hartley gave a low laugh, reaching out to take it from him with a smile. She shook it a few times, letting the glow spread evenly, then held it up between them. It was brighter than a regular glow stick, and she knew by the design it had to be one he'd gotten from a different planet. The light was too brilliant to be of Earthly origin.
"I love it," she said with a warm grin.
He sniffed, clearly aiming for nonchalant. "It's just a luminescent cane," he told her casually, as if that somehow lessened its beauty. "Thought you'd appreciate the colour."
"You mean glow stick, right?" she asked, continuing to grin, the expression morphing from sweet to impishly amused.
"Different planet, different name," he said with another sniff. She had to chuckle, looking down at the fancy luminescent cane and watching as the light seemed to ripple from within its plastic casing.
She realised that, without her even noticing, the tension in the air had evaporated, leaving her warm and comfortable. She smiled, feeling a pulse of sudden bravery and riding it through, taking a small step forwards. The already dwindling space between them disappeared into nothing, and she watched as the Doctor gulped at their sudden close proximity.
"How much longer do we have to go?" she asked quietly, voice low and holding just a hint of a husky edge.
Now it was the Doctor's turn to look nervous. "Uh, just over fifteen minutes," he replied, Adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed. Her eyes darted down to follow the movement, then slowly trailed back up over his chin, lingering on his sinful lips before fluttering up to meet his eyes, which were wide with a panic she found adorable.
It felt like so long since she'd kissed him, and suddenly it was all she could think about doing. But he still looked so nervous, and the last thing she wanted to do was push him further than he was willing to go. So, she placed her hands gently to his chest, fingers of her right hand still curled around the glow stick, its light set between their faces, making their eyes shine in the purple glow.
"How're we gonna pass the time?" she asked coyly, blinking up at him with a hint of sultriness that made him shift his weight anxiously.
"You've been spending too much time with Jack," he told her, attempting to keep the usual levity in the words, but instead his voice was gruff from the growing tension sparking between them like electricity. Hartley could feel the rhythm of his double hearts hammering away through the material of his suit. The fast beats matched her own, and like he were her centre of gravity she felt herself begin to sway into him.
It was a small movement, not in any way forceful, and she knew she wasn't imagining the way he also swayed closer. They paused just before meeting, and Hartley felt his cool, minty breath fan over her lips. Without giving it much thought she licked her own, and the Doctor's gaze darted down, taking in the action with narrowed, interested eyes.
"I mean, we're halfway through a plan," he said, voice rough, like what she imagined he'd sound like if he'd just woken up. "This probably isn't a good idea," he told her with as much conviction as he could possibly muster; which wasn't much. The attempt was wholly unconvincing, especially when he drifted closer still, their noses just barely brushing. "We don't have the time for this," he added weakly.
"You're right," she agreed without feeling. They were empty words, and she gripped the lapels of his suit, her fingers curling around the material, gripping it tightly like she were searching for traction. "It's probably a bad idea."
"A very bad idea," he nodded, but his eyes were focused solely on her lips, and she knew then that they were done for.
Unthinking, she bit down on the flesh of her bottom lip and the Doctor gave a frustrated huff. She thought suddenly that he may have been about as alien as it could get, but damn if he wasn't a man.
"Now that's just unfair," he said grumpily. She laughed quietly, but before she could respond he swooped down, capturing her lips with his and putting a stop to any reply she could possibly form.
Sucking in a sharp gasp of air, knowing she'd need it, Hartley pressed into him, savouring the way he did the same. Arms twisted around her middle, tugging her against the hard planes of his lanky body. Somewhere in the back of her mind she registered that she'd dropped the glow stick. It landed on the floor with a dull clatter but she didn't have the attention to spare.
Gripping the Doctor's lapels more tightly, Hartley pulled back just the slightest bit before kissing him again, dragging her lips over his in the most wonderful dance. She wondered, briefly, where he'd learned to kiss like that, but all conscious thought was removed from her head when one of his hands moved up her back. His fingers slid over the delicate ridges of her spine, ghosting over her skin through her clothes until he reached her neck, then moved around to her face.
He cupped her jaw in his palm and tilted her head, changing the angle of the kiss and startling her pleasantly. She leant into it, pushing him with enough force that he was shoved back, softly hitting the wall behind him. Hartley moved with him, thinking that he was rather like a drug she needed more of. Her lips tingled where they dragged against his, and she curled her hands around the back of his neck, gripping gently at the soft hair there. He hummed into the kiss, and a moment later broke away.
They both panted for air, and she made note to tease him about his so-called 'superior respiratory bypass system' later. Unable to help herself, her mouth pulled up into a contented smile, and when she finally got around to opening her eyes the Doctor was already look at her. He wasn't smiling but rather just staring, the look in his eyes indescribable.
The finer emotions of the room were lost in the haze of attraction that filled the space between them like a fog. She wasn't sure whose was whose, it was all blurring together into one pleasurable blur of colour in her head. It was so tangible she could almost smell it – or maybe that was just the Doctor. His usual scent of motor oil, marmalade and stardust swam in her head, and she felt drunk on it.
"Maybe we can make the time," he conceded so abruptly that it shocked her, grasping at her again and bringing her in for another deep, languid kiss. She giggled into it, but soon it wasn't a laughing matter. His hands on her body were like fire, hot to the touch even through the layers of clothes they wore. Gasping into his mouth when his tongue flicked at her lip, Hartley responded by capturing his bottom lip in both of hers and then gently biting down. The Doctor's grip on her tightened, and he kissed her with more fervour.
All of his usual zest for life was injected into their embrace, and Hartley sighed again, the delicious sounds she made only spurring the Doctor on, making him all the more enthusiastic.
Hartley never wanted it to end. His scent, his weight, the feeling of his skin and lips against hers was almost too much, she was sure he was going to overtake her entirely. And she was inclined to let him.
Unfortunately before she could live to see that happen there was a sharp banging on the door to the broom cupboard they'd locked themselves in. Springing apart and panting for breath, the two stared at one another for a moment before turning to glance at the door, like one of them might miraculously develop the ability to see through solid wood.
"Who's in there?" asked the voice of someone who'd had one too many cigarettes in their lifetime. "Is that you, Christie? I told you to quit bringing your boyfriend down here for a quick shag. One of these days Health and Safety is gonna catch you, y'know?"
The Doctor straightened his clothes, but it did little to help the his kiss-swollen lips, flushed cheeks and mussed hair. Clearing his throat he yanked open the door, already holding up the psychic paper. "John Smith, Health and Safety," he said with as much dignity as he could possibly muster. Which, to be perfectly honest, wasn't very much.
Hartley didn't dare poke her head out to glance at the man who'd interrupted them, instead leaning back against the wall and running her fingers through her hair, desperately trying to tame it as she fought to even her breathing, lowering her heart rate and forcing herself to calm down.
"Right, uh, sorry," said the man, more bewildered than anyone Hartley had ever felt. Her cheeks were hot from both the snogging and the embarrassment of getting caught. "Um – should you really be...?" the stranger trailed off uncertainly.
"Testing the broom cupboard for...structural integrity," the Doctor said. The lie was a pathetic one and it made Hartley laugh, a single loud giggle from within the cupboard. The Doctor kicked backwards, bumping her in the shin in reprimand.
"Right," said the man again, now incredibly uncomfortable.
"Well, time to clock off now. So, off you trot," ordered the Doctor, and Hartley caught sight of him quite literally shooing the man away. There was a large moment of awkward silence before finally the sound of the man's footsteps were echoing through the hall. The Doctor remained leant in the doorway, making sure he was really gone, and Hartley appreciated the extra time to compose herself.
Finally the Doctor stepped from the cupboard, holding the door open wide and waving her out into the empty corridor.
Hartley stepped out, glad her walk was steady and her knees didn't shake. She brushed imaginary dirt from her mussed up clothes, then double checked her hair.
"Great, now we've been seen," muttered the Doctor, frowning as he shut the door and locked it after them.
"Calm down, Grumpy Guts," she replied, amusement warm in her voice as she stepped closer to straighten his tie from where it had come loose during their embrace. "Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it," she grinned up at him toothily.
His cheeks turned pink, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably. "That's neither here nor there," he said in a strained voice. Smiling, she patted him tenderly right between his hearts before taking mercy and turning away.
"So, end of the working day," she stated the obvious, looking up and down the long concrete hallway they found themselves in. "Where to first?"
"Uh, the roof," said the Doctor, lacking his usual confidence.
"You're the boss," she smiled, still coy as could be, and now it wasn't just his cheeks that were pink; the tips of his ears were a rosy red too. "Come on," she said, winding her arm through his and beginning to pull him along in the direction of the lifts. "We've got an evil plan to put a stop to."
The elevator was mercifully empty, and by the time they'd travelled to the top of the building the Doctor had composed himself.
Hartley thought it was sweet, the way he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. It was all so new to both of them, this love of theirs; so fresh, and young. Neither knew what tomorrow might bring, but they both knew they planned to enjoy it as they found out together.
It had been so long since Hartley had had anything even close to a partner; for the longest time it had just been the Doctor. Maybe she knew, even from the very beginning, that it would just always be him. There was no one else for her; at least, the universe certainly seemed to think so.
She wondered if she still knew how to be someone's girlfriend. Was it something you ever forgot? And how different were these circumstances? Was it different because the person she was involved with was an alien? The answer was obviously yes. She wondered if there were any books on the subject she could read.
Although she doubted How To Be a 900 Year-Old Time Lord's Immortal Girlfriend and Travelling Companion was something many other people in the universe were in need of reading.
"Ah, a cleaner's cradle!" cried the Doctor, bounding towards it happily. Hartley broke from her musings to give him her full attention. "Just what we need."
"What're we meant to do with a cleaner's cradle?" she asked even as she followed him over to the device sitting on the edge of the building. "Wouldn't it just be easier to search on foot?"
"We don't know what these people are planning," he said, climbing ungracefully into the cradle then holding out a hand to her. She took it with a grateful smile, letting him carefully pull her over the lip and onto the platform of the cradle. "Best to keep our distance."
With the familiar buzz of the sonic, the pair of them held onto the sides of the cradle as it slowly lowered them down the side of the building. London was spread out before them, beautiful and towering against the blanket of stars that had appeared once the sun had bowed out for the night. She smiled, leaning against the edge of the cradle keeping them safe before turning to the Doctor with warmth in her chest.
"You know, as far as dates go, this isn't so bad," she began impishly. He turned to look at her with wide eyes. "I mean, you and me, a gripping mystery, a perfect view of the London skyline, some snogging in a broom cupboard," she listed with a small, shit-eating grin. "That's pretty much my perfect date. Have you been reading my diary?" she asked playfully.
The Doctor spluttered for a brief moment before getting control of himself and scoffing. She grinned, wide and unrestrained, then wound her arm through his. He was warm against the chill of the evening air, and for a brief moment she enjoyed the view and the perfect company, knowing it probably wouldn't be long before the bad guys of the week found them and it all went to shit.
Enjoy it while it lasted, she supposed.
The cradle came to an abrupt stop and Hartley turned away from the lights of London to glance into the window before them. It was a large, scarcely decorated office. The pair of travellers were only looking through the glass for a brief moment before the door opened and people began to pour inside.
Grabbing ahold of his companion, the Doctor sharply yanked them down and out of sight. They crouched out of sight, the Doctor fishing out his stethoscope and sticking it in his ears, pressing the end to the wall and listening intently.
Hartley considered herself a patient person, but they were sitting on a window-washer's cradle in the middle of an autumn night in London. Besides, who knew what they were up against? Not knowing something could put her life in danger...relatively speaking.
"Let me listen," she finally hissed at the Doctor, who batted her away with a frown. Rolling her eyes, she yanked the stethoscope from his hand. He gave a yelp as they tore from his ears, but she just tutted back, sticking them in her own and leaning against the wall to listen.
"I am surprised you never asked about my name. I chose it well," a slimy, prim kind of voice was saying proudly. "Foster. As in foster mother. And these are my children."
There's a beat, then another voice, much less sneering, said, "you're kidding me. What the hell is that?"
Unable to stem her curiosity, Hartley began to gingerly stand straight, just enough so that she could see through the thick glass separating them and the bad guys. The Doctor looked alarmed, but she nodded to him surely. Reluctantly agreeing, together they both peeked through the window, spying the people within.
Taking the stethoscope from her ears, Hartley leant forwards in an attempt to read their lips, only to have the Doctor suddenly elbow her in the ribs. Hissing in surprise, she turned to let him have it only to see him staring directly ahead, eyes open wide in shock.
Alarmed, Hartley followed his line of sight. She froze in surprise when she finally caught sight of what he was looking at.
Donna Noble was staring through the viewing panel in the door on the opposite side of the room. She had the largest, happiest grin on her face, and although it was a little harder to read her emotions through the thick materials between them, Hartley caught a fluttering of glee so intense she giggled at the force of it.
"Doctor! Hartley!" their friend from so long ago mouthed, her delight climbing, smile so wide it looked ready to burst her face in two. With wide eyes, Hartley could only stare, wondering how the hell Donna Noble had managed to get herself caught up in a situation like the one they were in. "Oh my god!" she mouthed again, radiating glee.
Pulling a frown, Hartley made an expression that prompted an answer to the questions swimming in her mind.
"It's me!" mouthed Donna giddily, as if they might have forgotten.
Hartley glanced to the Doctor, finding his jaw slack with shock. Slowly, he nodded his head, telling her they knew exactly who she was.
"Oh, this is brilliant," Donna told them silently.
"What the hell are you doing there?" the Doctor asked, the words whispered yet clear on his mouth, so Donna could read his lips.
"I was looking for you!"
"What?" hissed Hartley, glancing again at the Doctor, who looked equally as bewildered. Glancing back at Donna, she noted the joy in the other woman's eyes. "Why?"
"I read it on the internet. Weird. Crept along. Heard them talking. Hid. You two!"
Hartley nodded, following the basics. Then, "are we interrupting you?"
The sound of the unexpected voice startled her, and Hartley jumped, glancing over at the people they'd been spying on with a grimace. What was this, amateur hour?
"Run!" the Doctor instructed, this time out loud, and Donna didn't hesitate to follow the command.
"Get her," snapped Foster in a sneer.
"Sonic the door! Sonic the door!" Hartley hissed at the Doctor, who scrambled to comply. The lock lit up blue in the glow from the sonic, and then he aimed it at the mechanics of the cradle above them.
Quickly, almost too quickly for Hartley's unprepared nerves, the cradle flew upwards. Yelping, she grasped ahold of the Doctor's arm, wincing as the cold night air stung her eyes. In mere seconds they reached the roof and the Doctor was leaping from the cradle. He reached back as though from instinct, grasping ahold of Hartley and hauling her over the edge. Together they stumbled down the ladder and made a beeline for the door to the building.
"Go, go, go," Hartley pushed the Doctor forwards faster, very nearly tripping over his feet in her need to get down the stairs. They'd only made it three floors before they just about ran face-first into another body. For a split second Hartley thought the worst, preparing to defend them if they were attacked, but then Donna freaking Noble was standing in front of them.
Now that glee his Hartley with full force, and she staggered at the strength of it.
Without a second thought Donna leapt into the Doctor's arms, holding him in a brief but tight embrace. She beamed widely, pulling back and immediately latching onto Hartley.
Laughing quietly, Hartley gripped her back, soaking in her happiness and elation like it were a drug. It was strong and warm, making pleasant butterflies erupt in her gut. She clutched Donna tighter, nearly overcome with emotion simply from feeling the rush of what Donna felt. It was intoxicating.
Finally Donna pulled back to grip both of them, her warm eyes flickering between the pair rapidly, as if she couldn't decide who to look at first.
"Oh, my God. I don't believe it," she gasped happily. The sincere joy and relief emanating from her made Hartley smile. It felt exactly like running into one of your oldest, dearest friends, despite them having only met the once before now. "Look at you! You've even got the same suit!" she said, eyes finally settling on the Doctor before her expression flattened into distaste. "Don't you ever change?"
"Yeah, thanks, Donna," he replied in exasperation, brow furrowed. "Not right now."
The sound of doors being slammed open echoed up through the stairwell they were stood in. Hartley didn't hesitate to grasp Donna's hand, grinning at her widely. "Ready to run?" she asked eagerly.
"You have no idea," Donna breathed.
"Just like old times!" cried the Doctor, pushing them both up before him, then bringing up the rear. Hartley gripped Donna tightly, dragging her up the stairs as quickly as she could. She wasn't as accustomed to running as they were, but her life was on the line, so she moved impressively fast for someone unused to the lifestyle.
"I can't believe I found you!" Donna yelled over her own pants of exertion, one hand gripping Hartley, the other holding the railing as she pushed herself faster. "I've looked everywhere! And this is where you turn up?! See, I just came across this by accident, really, because I thought, how do you find those two? And then I just thought, look for trouble and then they'll turn up!"
Hartley burst through the door, pulling Donna out after her and holding it for the Doctor. He tumbled out after them, then slammed it shut and sonicked it to hold them off.
"So I looked everywhere. You name it. UFO sightings, crop circles, sea monsters. I looked, I found them all. Like that stuff about the bees disappearing, I thought, I bet they're connected," Donna continued to ramble, barely even pausing to take a breath. "Because the thing is, you two, I believe it all now. You opened my eyes. All those amazing things out there, I believe them all. Well, apart from that replica of the Titanic flying over Buckingham Palace on Christmas Day. I mean, that's got to be a hoax," she snorted. Hartley's face scrunched at that last one.
The Doctor looked up. "What do you mean, the bees are disappearing?"
"That's what you take away from all of that?" Hartley asked him, unimpressed by his priorities. He ignored her, climbing to his feet and shooting around to the ladder, climbing it fluidly. Hartley followed without hesitation, and he grasped her arm, once more helping her into the cradle. It wasn't even a chivalry thing – Hartley could tell it was just ingrained instinct, an afterthought that came from years of familiarity.
"I don't know," replied Donna from the bottom of the ladder. "That's what it says on the internet. Well, on the same site, there was all these conspiracy theories about Adipose Industries and I thought, let's take a look!"
The Doctor was busy using the sonic on the cradle's controls, and Hartley leant over the lip, waving Donna up. "Come on, get in," she called, glancing over at the door in concern. They couldn't have been far behind.
"What, in that thing?" asked Donna in disgust.
"Yes, in that thing," the Doctor replied impatiently.
"But if we go down in that, they'll just call us back up again," Donna countered smartly.
"No, no, no, because I've locked the controls with a sonic cage," he explained hurriedly. "I'm the only one that can control it. Not unless she's got a sonic device of her own, which is very unlikely."
"Famous last words," Hartley said from the corner of her mouth. He didn't respond other than an unimpressed look from the corner of his eye. "Come on, in now, Donna!" she called to their old friend, and the redhead reluctantly began to climb.
"I was not expecting having to do this when I got dressed this morning," she said as she climbed unsteadily into the cradle. The moment she was on two feet the Doctor pointed the sonic at the controls and it began moving, lowering them slowly down the side of the building. "Is this safe?" asked Donna, glancing warily over the edge, taking in exactly how far up from the ground they were.
"Yeah," the Doctor replied, blithely confident. "Perfectly."
There was a small bang and suddenly the cradle seemed to drop out from under them. Donna let out a scream as they began to catapult towards the distant ground. Cursing, Hartley gripped onto the edge, her mind working overtime, trying to come up with a way out that didn't get them all killed.
The Doctor acted first, using his sonic to stop the drop. The cradle came to an abrupt stop and the inertia cause Hartley's head to slam into Donna's. Both women groaned, reaching up to hold their aching foreheads in pain.
"Brilliant," muttered Donna, and Hartley winced apologetically.
"We can get in through the window," said the Doctor optimistically, turning his sonic onto the window. Its buzzing filled Hartley's ears, but a long moment passed and absolutely nothing happened.
"Why isn't it working?" she hissed, fear like a weight in her stomach. She worried it might pull the cradle down further, heavy as it was.
"Must have deadlocked the building," shouted the Doctor. "I can't get it open!"
Donna ducked down, reappearing a beat later with a large spanner in her hands. "Well, smash it then!" she cried, immediately beginning to slam it against the window. The glass didn't so much as crack under the assault, but that didn't stop Donna, shouting at it as she hit it over and over again, ordering it to break like it might have been listening.
"This is a nightmare," groaned Hartley, watching as both Donna and the Doctor banged furiously on the glass, desperate to get inside. She tipped her head back, wondering if this particular adventure was going to end for her with a fall off a building, only to catch sight of a small, bright light glinting up on the roof, right where the cable sat connecting them to the structure.
"Shit," she cussed, gripping the Doctor's arm in warning. "She's cutting the cable!"
Before the Doctor could do anything to stop it, the cable snapped, one half of the cradle falling slack. Donna was closest, letting out a loud scream as she fell from the only thing standing between her and the concrete below.
"Donna!" Hartley shrieked, she herself feeling the cradle disappear from under her. But before she could fall a hand wrapped around her arm, gripping her tightly and keeping her from yet another death. The action allowed her to get a better grip on the railing, and she managed to hold herself up. "Donna!" she screamed again once she was confident she was safe.
"Hartley!" Donna cried back, and Hartley realised with a surge of powerful relief that their friend was gripping the hanging cable, keeping herself from falling; for the time being. "Doctor!"
"Hold on!" the Doctor cried desperately.
"I am!" Donna snarled back, even despite her circumstances still able to find herself irritated. Hartley had the hysterical urge to laugh, but between worrying about Donna and holding herself up, there really wasn't any time.
"Try and pull her up!" the Doctor instructed Hartley, who grunted an agreement and leant down as carefully as she could. Gripping onto the cable Donna was dangling from, Hartley tried her hardest to pull, but it was far, far too heavy for her to even raise it slightly.
"Hart!" cried Donna as she swung in the icy breeze.
"You'll be okay, Donna!" she cried back, still trying to tug at the cable, despite already knowing it was pointless. She couldn't just do nothing.
"I'm going to fall!" screamed Donna, terror hitting her like a sleeting snow, cold and painful. Hartley winced, glancing back at the Doctor to see him scaling the cradle, working his way back up to one of the windows.
"Doctor!" she yelled at him.
"I've got a plan!" he yelled back, only a slight comfort.
"This is all your fault! I should've stayed at home!" Donna bellowed.
"I won't be a minute!"
And then he was gone, tumbling inside the building with all the grace of a newborn deer. Rolling her eyes, Hartley could only adjust her own grip on the cradle and shout down at Donna as reassuringly as she could. "You okay?" she called for lack of anything better to say.
"Oh yeah, Hart, I'm just great!" Donna spat; a completely understandable response.
"Yeah, not my finest moment!" she shouted back, and even despite herself, Donna managed a wheezing laugh. Hartley grinned, satisfied with her efforts.
From below her a window slid open, and she watched the Doctor's arms poke into view, wrapping around Donna's flailing legs.
"Get off!" the redhead screamed at him irritably.
"I've got you. I've got you," his voice shouted back. "Stop kicking!"
A few moments of ridiculous struggling passed, and then Donna was tumbling into the building, safe. Hartley breathed a sigh of relief, then watched as the Doctor reappeared for her, arms poking out of the window.
"Come on, Hart!" he yelled to her over the whistling noise of the wind. "Climb down and I'll pull you in!" he promised. The last thing she wanted to do was climb her way down nothing but a single rope of cable, the possibility of falling to her death very clear in her mind.
But she also knew it was either that or hang there until the Doctor had a chance to go back and get the TARDIS. Besides, she loathed the thought of missing out on all the action.
With a deep breath, Hartley slowly began to make her way down the rope. Her hands were sweating and it was hard to get a good grip, but she persevered until finally the Doctor grabbed ahold of her legs, able to pull her in through the window, keeping her from yet another gruesome death. Because those were never fun.
"Okay?" he asked quickly once she was flat on her feet.
"Always," she assured him.
"I was right," Donna said once they'd taken half a second to enjoy being alive. The terror of the near-death experience seemed to have worn off, and now she was grinning from the exhilaration of it all. "It's always like this with you, innit?"
"Oh, yes!" the Doctor crowed. "And off we go!"
He grasped Hartley's hand, turned and bolting from the room. She grinned, heart still racing with adrenaline as she let him tug her out into the offices of Adipose Industries.
"Oi!" shouted someone from across the room, a person Hartley hadn't even had the time to notice. The Doctor pull them to a stop, ducking back into the room for a quick moment with his sonic, before reappearing and darting towards her and Donna, leading them through the halls.
"What now?!" asked Donna as they ran.
"I've got to learn the rest of their plan!" replied the Doctor, taking a sharp right and leading them down a long, skinny hallway.
"How do we do that?!"
But the question was answered for them as they spilled out into the next room – the call centre from the looks of it – and were met face to face with Foster and her guards. The Doctor thrust out an arm that Hartley caught on. She gripped him as she watched the older woman slip off her glasses and give them a wide, slimy smile.
"Well, then," said that week's Big Bad, "at last."
"Hello," Donna said, coming to a stop on the Doctor's other side.
"Nice to meet you, I'm the Doctor," said the Time Lord, utterly cheerful.
"And I'm Donna."
"Guess that makes me Hartley," the immortal joked wryly, but nobody's lips so much as twitched. She hadn't really expected them to.
"Partners in crime," sneered Foster. "And evidently off-worlders, judging by your sonic technology."
"Oh, yes, I've still got your sonic pen," said the Doctor broadly, fishing the pen from his pocket and holding it up. "Nice. I like it. Sleek. It's kind of sleek."
"Oh, it's definitely sleek," Donna confirmed.
"Yeah, and if you were to sign your real name, that would be...?"
Foster gave a wide smile, the expression tinted with corruptible pride as she answered the Doctor's question. "Matron Cofelia of the Five Straighten Classabindi Nursery Fleet – Intergalactic Class," she said, chin tilted up in arrogance.
"A wet nurse," the Doctor hummed, beginning to understand, "using humans as surrogates."
Foster smiled again, and the look to her eyes made Hartley's skin crawl. "I've been employed by the Adiposian First Family to foster a new generation after their breeding planet was lost."
"What do you mean lost?" asked the Doctor critically. "How do you lose a planet?"
"Oh, the politics are none of my concern. I'm just here to take care of the children on behalf of the parents."
"What, like an outer space super nanny?" asked Donna smartly.
Foster beamed, plastic as could be. "Yes, if you like."
"So-" began Donna, sounding very much like she was trying desperately to wrap her head around what was happening. "So those little things, they're, they're made out of fat, yeah? But that woman, Stacy Campbell, there was nothing left of her."
Foster kind of chuckled, the sound saccharine at best. "Oh, in a crisis the Adipose can convert bone and hair and internal organs. Makes them a little bit sick, poor things," she pouted childishly.
"What about poor Stacy?" hissed Donna.
"So, what? You're just going to kill everyone on planet Earth, converting them into babies for your employers?" asked Hartley, disgust echoing in her voice.
Foster only giggled. The sound reminded Hartley sharply of Dolores Umbridge, which only made her dislike her more.
"Seeding a level five planet is against galactic law," the Doctor said, his voice low and serious. He wasn't playing games. He wanted this to end.
Foster's sickly sweet demeanour abruptly dropped, and a glint of self-righteous anger appeared in her cold eyes. The smile disappeared from her face, replaced by a dark glare, a warning if Hartley had ever seen one. "Are you threatening me?" she asked, careful and measured.
But the Doctor didn't rise to the bait. "I'm trying to help you, Matron. This is your one chance, because if you don't call this off, then I'll have to stop you," he said, and it was a promise.
Foster only smiled. "I hardly think you can stop bullets," she said uncaringly, and the two men flanking her lifted their weapons, cocking them with loud, obnoxious sounds that made Hartley flinch.
But she fought past her fear and stepped forwards, arms outstretched, completely and utterly prepared to take bullets for Donna and the Doctor. Better her than one of them. At least she'd wake up.
"Oh, how sweet," purred Foster, and Hartley felt bile climb her throat. She'd been shot before, but never by a gun as big as the ones aimed at her chest. She hoped it would be quick. "Willing to die for your beloved. Well, if you have a death wish, far be it from me to stop you," she said the Matron thinly, making a small motion with her hand that had the guards taking aim.
"No, hold on, hold on," the Doctor intervened, all but shoving Hartley backwards, forcing her into Donna, who gripped her back. Hartley noticed their old friend's hands were trembling, but there was no time to comfort her. They had enemies to disable. "One more thing, before dying," said the Doctor with frustrating flippancy. "Do you know what happens if you hold two identical sonic devices against each other?" he asked, pulling his own sonic from his pocket and holding them both up for everyone to see.
Foster paused, considering. "No," she finally answered, hesitation layering her voice.
"Nor me," grinned the Doctor, "let's find out."
Suddenly a horrible, awful, painful noise slammed into Hartley's head. Like some kind of sonic attack, Hartley crumpled, gripping her ears in agony. She shut her eyes, head feeling tight like a bottle of fizzy drink threatening to explode.
"Come on!"
The familiar sensation of the Doctor's hand in hers pulled her from the pain as he began to tug her in the opposite direction. Her feet stumbled underneath her, struggling to hold up her weight, but she pushed herself onwards, barrelling to safety.
"This way!" he called, and Hartley glanced over her shoulder to made sure Donna was close on their heels. They ran, taking the stairs two at a time until the reached the bowels of the building, the Doctor running straight back to the cupboard they'd hid in early. Had it really only been a short hour ago? Somehow it felt longer.
The memory of that stolen hour of theirs made her cheeks warm, but there was no time to focus on it, and she stood back as the Doctor burst inside, grabbing the various mops and ladders inside and tossing them carelessly out into the empty corridor.
"Well, that's one solution," said Donna in sheer bemusement. "Hide in a cupboard. I like it."
The Doctor slid back the panels again, revealing the green machine hiding beyond. "I tried hacking into this thing earlier, because the matron's got a computer core running through the centre of the building," he explained in a rush. "Triple deadlocked. But now I've got this," he held up the other alien's sonic pen, "I can get into it."
Hartley paused, leaning from the broom cupboard as she heard the sound of shoes slapping against concrete. "We've got incoming," she informed the Doctor, straightening up and mentally preparing herself for a fight.
"We need a bit of privacy," he said. Hartley listened to the loud, familiar buzz of live electricity before it faded into nothing, the footsteps disappearing along with it. "Just enough to stop them."
Hartley remained only half inside the room as self-designated lookout. She wasn't about to let anybody sneak up on them and stop them from saving the world.
"You look older," said Donna to the Doctor, and half of Hartley's attention dropped, focusing on their conversation out of nosy curiosity.
"Thanks," the Time Lord replied dryly.
"Still just the two of you?"
"Yup," he said without hesitation, then paused, reconsidering. "Well, no. We had this friend. Martha, she was called. Martha Jones. She was brilliant. And I destroyed half her life," he told Donna, keeping distracted in an effort to mask his pain. Hartley felt his guilt throb in the small room, a hint of something he was too distracted to conceal, and she wished there was something she could do to help him ease that pain. "But she's fine, she's good," he said with a sharp bob of his head. "She's gone."
Donna nodded pensively. "What about Rose?" she asked, quiet and gentle.
The Doctor's hands stilled for a brief second, and this time Hartley's own pain was the one filling the room.
"Still lost," he told Donna in a measured voice. "I thought you were going to travel the world?" he said, if only to get the focus off of himself.
Donna smiled, but the expression was rueful. "Easier said than done. It's like I had that one day with you and I was going to change. I was going to do so much. Then I woke up the next morning, same old life. It's like you were never there. And I tried. I did try. I went to Egypt. I was going to go barefoot and everything. And then it's all bus trips and guidebooks and don't drink the water, and two weeks later you're back at home. It's nothing like being with the two of you."
Donna glanced over at Hartley, who smiled at her gently.
"I must have been mad turning down that offer," she added, regret like a blanket over the room.
"What offer?" asked the Doctor, still distracted.
"To come with you."
At her words the Doctor broke away from his task, blinking at Donna through the lenses of his brainy specs. Hartley's eyebrows shot up in surprise, looking warily between the two friends before her. "Come with us?" the Doctor repeated in shock.
Donna smiled brightly, filled with happiness and relief. "Oh yes, please!" she said eagerly.
The Doctor could only gape. "Right..."
The mainframe before them flashed, seeming to come to life before them. "Inducer activated," it informed them in a robotic voice.
"That doesn't sound good," said Hartley, concern gripping her heart in a vice.
"She's started the programme!" exclaimed the Doctor, and she could tell by the way he held himself that whatever was happening, it wasn't something he was sure he could stop.
"What does that mean, Doc?" she pressed in a rush.
"So far they're just losing weight, but the Matron's gone up to emergency pathogenesis!"
"And that's when they convert?" asked Donna.
"Skeletons, organs, everything. A million people are going to die!" he grabbed his brilliant hair, tugging on it in his panic. "Got to cancel the signal," he said, yanking one of those golden pendants from his pocket, beginning to dismantle it with deft, capable fingers. "This contains a primary signal," he explained as he worked. "If I can switch it off, the fat goes back to being just fat."
"Inducer increasing," droned the system.
"No, no, no!" exclaimed the Doctor, once more gripping his hair from the stress. "She's doubled it. I need...haven't got time...it's too far. I can't override it – they're all gonna die!" he stammered over the half-finished thoughts. The pit in Hartley's stomach grew.
"Is there anything I can do?" asked Donna quickly.
"Sorry, Donna, this is way beyond you," he said distantly, frantically pulling all the switches he could see, desperate to regain control. "Got to double the base pulse – but I can't."
"Doctor, tell me," said Donna, surprisingly calm in the face of the pressure. "What do you need?"
"I need a second capsule to boost the override, but I've only got the one. I can't save them!" He was growing distraught, the sinking weight of failure pulling at his shoulders.
Hartley tried not to think about all the people who were dying out there. All those people who only wanted to lose weight and get fit; their insides were being converted into Adipose, and the two of them were stuck at the heart of it all, powerless to do anything to stop it.
A gold glint in the corner of her eye made Hartley look over, and her mouth dropped open in shock as she caught sight of the pendant Donna was holding up between them, the tiniest hint of a smirk on her lips. The Doctor stared, just as Hartley did, until finally a giggle of pure relief escaped him.
He snatched the pendant from Donna's hand while Hartley took the time to lean into her friend, wrapping an arm around her middle and squeezing. Donna chuckled, squeezing the affectionate woman back as they watched the Doctor work on wiring the second pendant into the inducer.
And just like that, the machine was powered down, seeming to die right in front of them, its eerie green glow disappearing in an instant. The Doctor stepped back, hands hovered over the inducer just to be safe, but a moment passed and it was clear it had worked.
"Ha!" cried the Doctor jubilantly, spinning around and sweeping Hartley up in a tight embrace that was warm with relief. She laughed happily into his shoulder, squeezing his thin shoulders and inhaling his motor-oil scent.
They were broken from their triumphant glee by a loud noise, the volume of it shaking the very foundation of the building. Hartley and the Doctor pulled apart, blinking at one another before glancing up towards the ceiling as one, as though they might be able to see through the layers and layers of concrete above them.
"What the hell was that?" asked Donna, a hint of panic filling the room.
The Doctor met her stare, a frown on his face. "Nursery ship," he told her grimly.
The massive computer before them lit up once more, its green glow casting shadows on the trio's faces. "Incoming signal," it announced robotically.
A voice began to speak, low and steady. The words sounded like nothing but gibberish to Donna, who stared at the machine in confusion, no connection with the TARDIS to translate the language. Hartley, however, heard every word.
"Hadn't we better go and stop them?" Donna asked them over the incoming message.
"Hang on," said the Doctor, holding out a hand. "Instructions from the Adiposian First Family," he explained, tilting his head to listen. The blood began to drain from Hartley face as she realised what was happening, listening to the man speak. "She's wired up the tower block to convert it into a levitation post," he muttered as he listened. "Oh. We're not the ones in trouble now," he said as the instructions turned dark for Madam Foster, "she is!"
He spun around, shoving open the door to the cupboard and toppling out into the corridor. Hartley followed close on his heels, and Donna after her. "Stairs?" asked Hartley over their panting.
"Lift!" he yelled back, all but slamming into the wall at the end of the hallway and jabbing his finger repeatedly into the button. By some miracle the lift was already on their floor, and the doors opened with a low whirl. The Doctor flew inside, barely waiting for Donna and Hartley to step in behind him before he was pressing at the button for the top floor.
Donna exhaled as the lift slowly began to rise, taking them towards the roof. "Phew," she breathed, holding a hand to her chest. "I forgot how much running was involved in life with the two of you," she said with a smile, the lightness in the expression telling them that she wasn't complaining.
Hartley smiled widely, pushing her messy hair back from her eyes as she replied. "You'll get used to it," she told her before she'd realised what she'd said. The Doctor stilled from beside her, and she realised suddenly that she'd just made an awfully big assumption. Donna didn't seem to pick up on the sudden tension, however, grinning at Hartley so widely that it surely hurt.
The doors opened with a mechanical whirr and the Doctor burst out into the hall, then catapulted himself up the stairs leading to the roof. He pushed his way out into the nippy night air and both women quickly followed after him.
They came to a stop at the edge of the roof, and Hartley gaped up at the massive spaceship hovering above them. Beams of light were floating the Adipose up into its bowels, like something out of a bad 80s sci-fi film.
"What you going to do then? Blow 'em up?" asked Donna, staring at the cheerful little children with bemusement, unsure how to proceed.
"They're just children," replied the Doctor with a small shake of his head. "They can't help where they come from."
"Oh, that makes a change from last time," said Donna dryly. "S'pose it's easier for you, now that Hart isn't unconscious."
"Oi," he barked, playing offended.
"It's not just me," Hartley said, not noticing as she leant into his side, threading her hand through his. "Martha did him a world of good," she told her in a conspiratorial tone, then reconsidered her statement. "She did both of us a world of good, if I'm honest," she admitted mildly.
"She did, yeah," the Doctor agreed with a steady nod. Then he gave an egotistical sniff. "She fancied me," he revealed, and Hartley snorted with exasperated laughter.
"Trouble in paradise?" Donna asked warily, eyes flickering between the pair of them like she might be able to see the fractures she thought Martha had left in their relationship.
"The opposite, actually," Hartley assured her with a smile, feeling warmth surge through her as she leant gently into the Doctor's side, exhilarated just knowing it was something she could do now, whenever she wanted.
Donna smiled widely, the expression a little giddy. "Good," she said, wholly sincere. "That's really good."
Hartley beamed back, and then as one they turned back to face the thousands and thousands of Adipose drifting slowly up through their beams of light. Hartley lifted her hand and began to wave, realising that, despite their gruesome beginnings, they were actually rather cute little things.
"I'm waving at fat," said Donna, conflicted about feeling the same as she waved at the innocent creatures floating up into the sky.
"Actually, as a diet plan, it sort of works," said the Doctor blithely. Hartley had to disagree, and she'd just looked up at him, opening her mouth in reprimand when he suddenly exclaimed, "there she is!" and took off running towards the edge of the roof.
Foster was floating upwards, utterly at ease while levitating towards the looming ship. She wore a self-satisfied smirk on her lips. As far as she was concerned, she'd won.
"Matron Cofelia, listen to me!" the Doctor began desperately.
"Oh, I don't think so, Doctor," sneered the Matron. "And if I never see you again, it'll be too soon."
"Oh, why does no one ever listen?" he groaned to the pair beside him, neither of whom had an answer. "I'm trying to help. Just get across to the roof. Can you shift the levitation beam?"
"What, so that you can arrest me?" she asked primly.
"Just listen. I saw the Adiposian instructions. They know it's a crime, breeding on Earth. So what's the one thing they want to get rid of?" he asked smartly. "Their accomplice."
"I'm far more than that," replied Foster, painted lips pulled upwards in a smirk. She thought she was untouchable. Fear gripped Hartley. She may not have been the most innocent of people, but she deserved more. "I'm nanny to all these children," she continued, utterly oblivious to the danger she was in.
"Exactly!" he implored her. "Mum and Dad have got the kids now. They don't need the nanny anymore."
She didn't look convinced, but they were out of time. The levitation beam shuttered off, and the Matron's eyes went wide in terrified shock before she was falling, a piercing scream escaping her mouth.
Gasping her horror, Hartley pressed into the Doctor, closing her eyes tightly before she had to view the smear that remained of the Matron on the concrete below.
The Doctor, Hartley and Donna were all silent as they looked up into the sky just in time to see the Adiposian ship disappear in a flash of startling light. Then it was gone. The whole thing felt strangely anticlimactic, Hartley thought, staring up into the empty night sky. It was all over, but they hadn't won – not really.
There was a lot of that going round, she supposed.
"Come on," said the Doctor after they'd all taken a minute to process what had just happened. "We should get down there."
Donna agreed, and the pair of them turned to go. As if sensing that Hartley wasn't going to move, the Doctor's fingers threaded through hers and tugged. He pulled her into his side, gripping her hand tightly and leading the way back towards the lift.
"She didn't deserve to die," Hartley said as they climbed into the small metal box, holding the Doctor's hand tighter, the press of his calloused skin against hers grounding her.
"At least she won't be able to do this on any more planets," said Donna in an attempt to see the silver lining.
"Yeah," mumbled Hartley, but it was without feeling.
It had rained sometime while they were inside. Hartley hadn't noticed up on the roof, but down on the pavement she could see the wetness sparkling dully in the streetlights. It was a familiar sight, one that calmed her almost as much as the Doctor's unyielding presence at her side.
His free hand produced the Matron's sonic pen, holding it up and staring at it for a moment before shaking his head and dropping it into a metal bin sitting on the curb. Hartley was just gearing herself up to speak when her efforts were interrupted by an unfamiliar voice.
"Oi, you three!" they shouted furiously, and the trio turned to see that woman from before, the one the Matron had had tied up, stalking towards them, still secured to her chair. "You're just mad. Do you hear me? Mad! And I'm going to report you for...madness!" she exclaimed as she awkwardly shuffled away, and Hartley managed just the tiniest hint of a smile.
Donna shook her head and tutted quietly. "You see, some people just can't take it," she hummed.
"No," the Doctor agreed.
Then Donna smiled. "And some people can," she grinned brightly. "So, then? TARDIS," she said eagerly. "Come on!" she crowed, grasping hold of the Doctor's free hand and using it to tug the pair of them along like daisies threaded together into a chain.
Hartley knew then, in the wake of Donna's excitement, that there was nothing to do except to put the harrowing events of the evening behind them. People died all the time; it was what people did. She had things to focus on, things to look forwards to. And she had a feeling Donna was one of them.
The Doctor led them around the corner to where they'd parked the TARDIS, and they were only a few metres away when Donna suddenly cried, "that's my car!"
Hartley turned with a raised brow to see Donna gaping at the short distance between her shiny blue car and their tall, blue TARDIS.
"That is like destiny," she exclaimed, barely able to believe it. Hartley had to agree, she felt the same. "And I've been ready for this," she continued happily, unlocking her car moving around to the boot, pulling it open and beginning to rummage around inside. "I packed ages ago, just in case," she began, tugging out a myriad of bags and beginning to pile them in the Doctor's hands. He was forced to drop Hartley's hand but she didn't mind, stepping back and watching on with an amused smile. "Because I thought, hot weather, cold weather, no weather. It goes anywhere. I've gotta be prepared!"
"You've got a, a hatbox," the Time Lord stammered, peeking out from around the high pile of luggage in his arms.
"Planet of the Hats: I'm ready!"
Hartley pressed her grin into her hand, eyes alight with amusement as the Doctor could only gape.
"Come on then, you," barked Donna, and it took Hartley a moment to realise it was her she was talking to. "Don't just stand around looking gorgeous – I need help getting these to the TARDIS," she said, more an order than anything else, and Hartley blinked in surprise.
"Right," she nodded, ignoring the haughty look the Doctor was sending her in return.
She hefted up a large suitcase and then began rolling it in the direction of the TARDIS, which stood tall and proud towards the back of the alleyway.
"I don't need injections, do I?" Donna began to ramble, full of a pure, unadulterated happiness that Hartley wasn't sure she'd felt in a long, long time.
She was excited, and her excitement was contagious, Hartley had to admit. She leant back against the blue box, watching Donna babble with a fond smile, only for it to drop into a frown when she realised the Doctor wasn't sharing her glow.
He was standing before them, staring back at Donna almost sadly. Hartley's heart dropped to her toes, and it was all she could do to pray he wasn't about to do something he'd regret. It had been awhile since Martha; just the two of them, travelling around in a little bubble of honeymoon bliss.
But Donna had been right all those years ago – they needed someone else; someone to balance them out. A happy medium between the blind compassion and the oncoming storm.
And Hartley knew that, as of tonight, that person was Donna Noble.
"You know, like when you go to Cambodia. Is there any of that? Because my friend Veena went to Bahrain, and she-" Donna cut herself off, finally noticing the Doctor's pensive frown. "You're not saying much," she said, the dread in her voice matching the dread in her heart.
"No, it's just..." the Doctor trailed off, taking great care not to let his eyes stray to Hartley. She wondered why that was, but knew she could probably take a guess. "It's a funny old life, in the TARDIS," he began again, struggling to find the words.
Donna was heartbroken, the feeling rather like somebody snapping the bone of her heart in two, and Hartley felt the sudden, unexpected urge to sock the Doctor in the jaw. "You don't want me," Donna said sadly.
The Doctor winced. "I'm not saying that," he said slowly.
"But you asked me," she murmured, trying to understand. Her dark eyes flickered between the Doctor and his companion, insides a swirl of disappointment and fear. "Would you rather it just be the two of you?" she finally asked, quiet and subdued.
"We wouldn't mind having you, Donna," Hartley assured her, unable to keep silent any longer. "We'd love it, in fact," she added, sending the Doctor a scolding look that went ignored.
"It's just – the last time, with Martha," he began, already wincing, "like I said, it, it got complicated. And that was all my fault." He paused, eyes finally flickering over to Hartley, who gave him a soft smile in reply. She was beginning to understand with more clarity, now. And it was sweet, honestly, that he was looking out for them and what they had now. "I just want a mate," he told Donna wistfully.
But Donna didn't react how either traveller thought she would. She gasped, abruptly horrified as she ducked behind the TARDIS door like she were trying to shield herself from their eyes.
"You just want to mate?" she asked in disbelief.
The Doctor was confused by the reaction. "I just want a mate!"
"You're not mating with me, sunshine!" she hissed back, then jerked her head towards Hartley. "Go mate with your girlfriend!"
Surprised to have been brought into the awkward exchange, Hartley blinked, starkly uncomfortable.
"A mate. I want a mate!" the Doctor insisted loudly, looking panicked by the direction the conversation had taken.
"Well, just as well, because I'm not having any of that nonsense," Donna replied, stepping out onto the street and straightening her jacket with as much dignity as she could muster. "I mean, you're just a long streak of nothing. You know, alien nothing," she said with a grimace of disgust. "Honestly, what's the appeal?" she muttered to Hartley, half curious.
Hartley could only snort with amusement, shooting a smirk at the Doctor, letting her eyes trail his body. There was a lot of appeal, she thought, but none she could explain without coming across as utterly, disgustingly lovesick. Or horny, but that was another issue entirely.
The Time Lord looked put out, and also a little confused by the exchange that had just happened before him. "There we are, then," he eventually said, nodding sharply in an attempt to regain some semblance of control. "Okay."
Donna paused. "I can come?" she asked hopefully.
"Yeah," he sniffed. "Course you can, yeah." He broke out into a wide grin, full of the sort of light Hartley craved like the sunshine. "I – we," he corrected himself with a warm glance at Hartley, who met his grin with a soft smile, "would love it."
Donna seemed about ready to burst into song with the happiness humming in her heart. "Oh, that's just-" she cut herself off abruptly, suddenly glancing down at her hand which was clutching a large set of keys. "Car keys," she said instead.
The Doctor blinked. "What?"
"I've still got my mum's car keys," she told them, already beginning to rush away. "I won't be a minute!" she promised, ducking around the corner and out of sight.
Hartley and the Doctor stood in silence a moment, both rather shellshocked from the turn their lives had taken over the course of a single night. They'd begun it just the two of them, and now they had their third, a companion to share all the wonders of the universe with.
Excitement was planted like a seed in Hartley's gut, and she pressed her lips together to keep from smiling like an idiot. It didn't feel like she or the Doctor were missing anything by being on their own, but rather that they were gaining something new with Donna on board. Hartley knew it was a step in the right direction. A necessary step to take, if she wanted to find her way back to being the woman she was before the Master had torn her apart.
Donna would be healthy for them. She could feel it in her bones.
"We should take this all inside," she told the Doctor, bending down to pick up one of the many, many bags Donna had packed in preparation for this moment. The one she grabbed was heavy, but she shouldered the weight and turned towards the TARDIS.
"Are you sure about this?" the Doctor spoke up from behind her. Surprised, she turned back around, one eyebrow raised in question.
"About Donna?" she asked, confused as she paused in the doorway, unsure what he meant. "Course I am. She's brilliant."
"About another companion in general, I mean," he elaborated carefully, as though the words themselves might be enough to set her off into some kind of an attack.
She paused, eyeing him thoughtfully. "Are you not sure?" she asked, the question a valid one. She was perfectly sure, but she could sense something hesitant within him, something he wouldn't let her totally see. It was there all the same, a ripple at the edge of his hearts.
"No, I am," he said, gently moving past her to begin piling Donna's many bags in the console room.
"Donna's exactly what we need," Hartley assured him, putting down the case she was holding before wandering back out into the alley to grab another.
"You think?" he asked as he trailed after her.
"I know."
"How?" he pressed, hefting up the hatbox while Hartley righted the suitcase, beginning to roll it towards the TARDIS.
"Instinct," she said, the words holding an ease that neither expected. There was a smile on her face, small and unassuming, but it was enough to make the Doctor beam with happiness.
They'd just finished transporting all the bags into the TARDIS when Donna reappeared, letting the door close behind her and looking up at the pair of time travellers with a wide grin, excitement seeming to seep from her pores. "Off we go, then," she said, practically vibrating with eagerness.
"Here it is. The TARDIS. It's bigger on the inside than it is on the outside-" the Doctor began his usual spiel, a smug look on his face that was immediately wiped by Donna's interjection.
"Oh, I know that bit," she said, waving him off. "Although frankly, you could turn the heating up," she added, wrapping her arms around herself to keep warm.
The Doctor looked surprised, but quickly shook it off, turning around and beginning to fiddle with the controls. "So, whole wide universe," he began softly, "where do you want to go?"
Donna smiled, the expression warm. "Oh, I know exactly the place."
"Which is?"
"Two and a half miles that way."
The Doctor's expression was laughably incredulous. "Two and a half miles that way?" he asked, bewildered by the strange request.
"You'll understand," she promised him. Still unsure, the Doctor turned to look at Hartley, as though she had any answers.
"What're you waiting for?" she asked rather than bother replying. She spun her pointer finger in a circle, a mischievous look on her face. "Start her up, Doc."
Grumbling something under his breath, the Doctor did as he was told, hurrying around the TARDIS with a pep in his step that contradicted his grumbling. He began to pilot the ship, and the floor beneath them rattled as it took off.
"Funny how we always seem to fly with you around, Donna," said the Doctor briskly, one leg propped up on the console as he struggled to manipulate two separate controls at once.
"As opposed to what?" asked Donna as she grinned at the scene widely, glee growing in her chest like a bubble.
"Dematerialisation or vortex travel, I s'pose," he sniffed, pointing to a large knob protruding from the side of the console. "Hartley, spin that three times clockwise, would you?"
Hartley hurried to comply, doing as instructed with her eyes focused on the Doctor, watching the way he stretched out across the controls in his wonderful pinstripe suit.
"Okay, we're here," he told Donna, turning back to raise his eyebrows at her. "Hovering over the top of a small hill." He glanced into the monitor, eyebrows shooting upwards. "There's someone down there," he said, slowly beginning to understand.
Donna didn't answer the unspoken question, she just grinned broadly and hurried down to the doors, tossing them open and beginning to wave frantically at the person down on the ground below them.
Curious, Hartley scurried after her, leaning around her new (old?) friend and smiling when she saw an older gentlemen standing on the hill next to a large, ratty-looking telescope. He seemed elated at the sight of them, doing a strange sort of jig where he stood, utterly thrilled as Donna kept waving. The man bent down to get a better look through his telescope, and Hartley smiled at him, waving back enthusiastically until the Doctor dematerialised the ship, sending them back into the endless vortex of time.
"Who was that?" asked Hartley as Donna shut the doors, turning around and leaning back against them with a small, satisfied smile on her face.
"Grandad," she revealed, still smiling, bright with happiness and content.
"Well then!" crowed the Doctor suddenly, and both women turned to see him standing by the console, grinning at them with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. "Where to?" he asked, growing eager for their next adventure. "Medusa Cascade? Singing Towers of Derillium? Off to meet Agatha Christie for a spot of high tea?"
"You got bedrooms in this thing?" Donna asked instead, and the Doctor visibly wilted.
"You must be tired," Hartley said rather than focus on the Doctor's suddenly downtrodden expression.
He really was such a child sometimes – she could only pretend it wasn't completely adorable.
"I'll give you a tour of the place, since you only saw the console room last time," she said kindly, and Donna gave a grateful smile. "Us humans can rest, and we'll start fresh in the morning," she added, then pointed at the pile of suitcases stacked against a column of coral. "The Doctor can put all your things in your room," she added impishly.
The Doctor sighed, grumbling under his breath again, but neither woman paid him any mind as Hartley began to lead Donna through to the door leading off to the rest of the endless ship. "I have a room?" asked Donna in surprise. "Is it like a guest room you two have or something?"
"Kind of. Except not really," she replied with a smirk, tucking her hands deep into her pockets as she led Donna through the halls. "The TARDIS is not only infinite, but sentient," she began to explain, taking a sharp right with the intent to take Donna to the library first. Maybe she was bias, but everyone appreciated a good library, didn't they? "Now that you're on board permanently, she'll have made you up your own room."
Donna was quiet for a moment, absorbing what this meant. "So, the ship is sentient," she eventually said, the words careful, not really ones she used in everyday conversation, "and it created me a room?"
"Yup," Hartley confirmed, utterly cheerful as she popped the 'p'. "This is the library," she said, pushing open the door and dragging Donna into the glorious room. It was easily the biggest in the whole ship – which was saying something.
"Blimey," muttered Donna as she stared at the endless, towering shelves where tens of thousands upon hundreds of thousands of books sat. "How big is this ship, again?" she asked, turning her gaze upwards to see the ceiling, further away than she would have expected.
"She's infinite, remember?" Hartley grinned, the expression holding a proud gleam, as though the TARDIS was something for her to boast about. In a sense it was, she supposed. Donna nodded, absorbing the information before her quietly. Hartley got the sense that, as impressive as the library was, it wasn't really Donna's speed. "Wanna go see the swimming pool?" she suggested, and Donna nodded eagerly.
Hartley had shown Donna the swimming pool, recreation room, study, med bay and kitchen by the time she began to yawn. Feeling bad for monopolising so much of her time when she was clearly exhausted from their long day at Adipose Industries, Hartley quickly changed trajectories so they were heading for the general direction of the bedrooms.
"The TARDIS can be a bit finicky," she said in a low, conspiratorial tone, like she were worried about the ship overhearing. This bemused Donna, but she was beginning to learn to just roll with the punches. "She gets in moods and likes to rearrange the rooms. It's kind of like the changing staircases at Hogwarts," she told her with a grin. "They never stay the same for very long."
Donna only stared back blankly, and Hartley got the feeling Donna wasn't much one for children's literature.
"Anyways, if the TARDIS likes you, she should reroute the hallways so you'll eventually find your way to your room," she continued fluidly, taking care to scan each door as the passed, searching for one with Donna's name on it.
"What if she doesn't like me?" asked Donna warily.
Hartley gave a small laugh. "She already does," she assured the slightly older woman with a grin. "I can tell."
Donna sent her a considering look. "How long have you been with the Doctor?" she asked, voice gentle.
Hartley had to think for a moment, a frown creasing at her brow as she mentally did the math. "Somewhere between five and six years, I think," she replied, finally coming to a stop outside of a room with the golden nameplate reading Donna in pretty, looping cursive. "Why?"
"You just seem so...well adjusted," Donna admitted with a shrug. "I guess this is your life now too, isn't it? All space travel and babies made of fat and bigger-on-the-inside boxes. This is who you are."
"It is, yeah," she agreed, voice quiet. She wondered then if Donna didn't mean that in a good way. "Is that a bad thing?" she asked hesitantly.
"No!" exclaimed Donna, and Hartley knew she hadn't meant anything bad by the observation. "It's good. Really. Because when I saw you last, well, it was just after Rose, wasn't it?"
The name didn't hold the same stab of pain it once had, and for that she was relieved. Confused about why Donna was bringing it up, however, Hartley frowned again. "Yeah," she answered, more cautious than before.
"Well, I could tell back then that there was a sadness to you. You seemed...out of place – sort of lost, I s'pose."
Hartley said nothing, leaning half against the wall, considering her friend thoughtfully.
"But you're happy now," Donna finished, a smile on her lips. "I can tell. You're better than you were back then. You've grown."
Hartley smiled, feeling a wave of affection for Donna crash over her, warm like an ocean in the summertime.
"It was bound to happen eventually," she joked, made lighter by Donna's words. "Hey," she said suddenly, and Donna looked up at her curiously. "I'm really happy to have you aboard," she told her with a glittering sincerity.
Donna grinned back, bright and tinged with a happiness. Acting on instinct, Hartley stepped forwards and wrapped her arms around the taller woman's neck, bringing her into a warm embrace. Donna gave a small sound of surprise but quickly hugged back, rubbing Hartley gently between the shoulders and squeezing tight.
Pulling away, Hartley stepped back and waved a hand at the nameplate on the wooden door. "Home sweet home," she said with a smile, and Donna shot her an eager look before pushing her way into her new room.
Her personalised room was large and regal, spacious and luxurious. Hartley couldn't help but snicker quietly as she leant in the doorway, thinking of how different the redhead's taste was to her own. Donna seemed to love it, eyes wide as she took in the lavish bedspread and sleek, glistening furniture.
The Doctor had done as they'd asked, piling Donna's numerous bags at the foot of her new, four-poster bed.
"I'll leave you to unpack," Hartley said, getting the feeling she could use some time alone to let it all sink in. She knew firsthand how this new reality could short-circuit your brain. What she needed was a good sleep and space to come to terms with everything she'd seen. Only then could they start to have some real fun. "See you in the morning," she told Donna as she turned to leave.
"Hart?" Donna said from inside her room. Pausing in the doorway, Hartley turned back to look. "Is it worth it?" Donna asked quietly, but Hartley didn't immediately understand. "This life," she elaborated softly. "Five or six years, you should know by now – is it worth it?"
Hartley smiled, wide and unrestrained. "It absolutely is," she promised sincerely. "Don't worry, Donna," she said impishly, "you're about to have nothing less than the time of your life."
A/N: Hey guys! So here we begin season 4. Donna's one of my all-time favourite companions, so I've really loved getting to play about with her and Hartley's dynamic. I think you're really going to love how their relationship develops over the course of the season.
As always, thanks for reading, and I'll see you all next time!
Coming up next: Fires of Pompeii
