A/N: you might notice a slight quote from Blackadder in here

Part 8

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Now normally Jenny felt she could ask any of the adults seated at their dining table the questions that appeared in her head, but this particular one that haunted her all day might be better answered by someone else. Someone who wasn't her dad or Donna, she reasoned. So she waited until they were both doing the washing up and she was left in the care of Martha, to read a book or do some drawing.

"Now which one you do you fancy looking at tonight?" Martha asked her, holding up a choice of three books to consider.

Without really looking, Jenny chose one and placed it on her lap. She then looked up at Martha sat next to her. "Martha, can I ask something?"

A bit formal, Martha thought but she'd go with the flow. This was the Doctor's daughter, after all. "Of course, you can. Whatever you need to know, I'll find out for you."

After glancing surreptitiously to make sure no one else was approaching, Jenny inquired, "What is a biological mother? How is it different?"

"Hmm." Martha tried to contemplate how to explain this in simple terms. "A biological mother is the adult who provides the egg that creates a new person or creature, in the same way a biological father provides the other part. Some parents are the birth ones and not the biological ones because of things like test tube babies, where there is a donation from someone else. Or some children are adopted by different parents, when their biological parents can't look after them."

"So, you can have a mother that isn't your biological mother?"

"Yes. Lots of people are brought up by someone that isn't their biological mother," Martha confirmed. "Have the other children at playgroup said anything about this?"

"Not really," Jenny answered. "The lady there did."

"Oh."

"And Donna told her off!"

"Did she? Good for her," Martha commented. "I can imagine that."

"I think we should look at the book now," Jenny ordered, and opened the pages, having made her mind up about something.

He seemed to be taking a while putting Jenny to bed so Donna sneaked the door open; and found John looking at nothing in particular as he stood by the window. The open curtain revealed the dark night outside.

"Ah, there he is," she quietly announced, so as not to wake the child in the room, "my gazing into space man. I'd wondered where you'd gone."

"In more ways than one," he pondered. "Come and look at the stars with me," he invited, holding out a hand to draw her close. "It's been a long time since we did this."

It took no effort to join him. "Yes, quite a while," she agreed, joining him. "It feels like a lifetime ago."

They stood side by side in silence for a grand total of two minutes before one of them felt the need to talk. Then again, neither of them were naturally quiet people, and loved to discuss things with company.

It was Donna who broke first. "Have you decided yet if you like Joan as a friend or if you want to try more?"

"You don't like her."

She wasn't sure if he was questioning that or using it as an excuse. "Well, we didn't have the greatest of starts, did we, when you think about it, basically telling us to bugger off like that. It would have turned anyone off, but if you like Joan, I'll make the effort to get to do more than get on with her."

"Is that in the same way as you get on with Mrs Fielding?" he teased.

Her cheeks immediately roasted. "Oh, you heard about that."

"Just a bit," he understated. "Via Joan, as you can imagine, although you came out much better in Jenny's version."

Please don't let her have told him how I feel, she mentally begged. Swallowing down her growing anxiety, she forced her voice to sound nonchalant. "In what way?"

His proud grin came out in full as he recalled Jenny's words. "Being important because you love her as your own. That sort of thing. No, don't dismiss your emotions, and by the sound of it, Mrs Fielding was put in her place."

"Thank you," Donna muttered.

"And to answer your question, I need to confess something," he cautiously began.

The news she had been dreading was about to assault her, yet she still encouraged him with a: "Go on."

He leaned closer to whisper directly into her ear, "I want to start dating again."

The bottom of her world threatened to drop in that second, but she was proud of herself for managing to reply, "You do?"

"Yes. In fact…"

"Daddy," a sleepy voice broke through their bubble, interrupting him.

"Of all the bad timing," he complained under his breath. "Sorry Jenny, we didn't mean to wake you," he said in a more normal volume.

Jenny sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. "I'm thirsty. Can I have a drink of water?"

"Of course," he readily accepted. "You lie back down, and I will go and get you a glass."

"I'll stay with her until you get back," Donna offered, and knelt down so that they were eye to eye. Waiting for him to be out of earshot, she quietly told Jenny, "Thanks for the rescue as well as sticking up for me."

In reply, Jenny grimaced. "Mrs Fielding was mean. She made you angry-sad."

"'Angry-sad'. Is there such a word?" Donna wondered in amusement. "Doesn't matter, there is now. It describes how awful she made me feel."

Tenderly, Jenny placed a hand on Donna's cheek. "I don't care what she said. I wish you were my mummy."

Before Donna could respond in delight, John discreetly coughed. "Somebody ordered a glass of water," he tried to announce. "Got a bit of a cold coming on. Sorry," he added, rubbing his throat.

"Good night, Jenny," Donna said, placing a loving kiss on her cheek. "See you tomorrow."

She then left John supervising his daughter drinking water while she made a hasty retreat. A tactical manoeuvre, she told herself as she let the feeling sink in. Jenny wanted her as her mother. Okay, the child hadn't had many options for a mother in her young life, but even so, it was a major thing to be told. The biggest compliment of all.

It took every ounce of willpower to stop herself from squealing in delight.

And then the angst bit in. How did John feel about this? He must have heard. There was no way he couldn't have done, and his reaction was one of shock, judging by all that neck rubbing. Even this version of him did that when self-comforting.

In light of that, she decided she wouldn't talk about it unless he brought it up. A pseudo widower had his feelings to deal with, after all, despite him wanting to date. At least she had been spared from hearing him say he'd chosen Joan. Her reaction to that would have embarrassed everybody. The only thing it left her to do was try and get on with the woman. It'd only be for a couple of months, until they left 1986. Assuming that Joan would not be travelling with them in the future, of course…

A sudden headache forced Donna to abandon her planned reading or listening to the radio, and she took herself off to bed for an early night.

When John had finally settled Jenny down to sleep for the second time that evening, he was surprised and dismayed not to find Donna sitting in the lounge.

"She wasn't feeling great with a bad headache," Martha explained, "so she's gone to bed. What was it you wanted with her?"

"Nothing that can't wait," he forlornly replied. "I just… Never mind."

He plonked his body down onto a seat and picked up a book to distract himself.

"You could talk to me instead, you know," Martha offered. "Sometimes I wonder if you forget I'm here."

"Sorry," he quickly apologised. "I don't mean to appear offhand, but somehow you represent work, if that makes sense; and when I get home I want to talk about Jenny."

Sitting up straighter, Martha considered him, sat there like a chastised little boy. "It does, but I like to talk about non-work stuff when I get home too."

"I don't mean to exclude you. Sorry. I suppose it doesn't help that Donna and I have this long-time friendship with all its little in-jokes," he pondered. "Anyway, I will do better from now on."

"Good," Martha agreed. "And the first thing you can do is take me shopping with you when you next go with Joan because I have a few personal items that are needed."

"What sort of personal…?" he began to ask before realising what said items could be, and went bright red. At least he had been spared from retrieving sanitary products on her behalf. "Yes. Erm.. definitely. You are more than welcome to join us. I'll inform Joan tomorrow." He then grinned in triumph.

Truth be told, he was rather relieved Martha would be acting as a buffer between him and Joan. It was lovely basking in her attention when others were about, but the full glow of Joan's regard was stifling otherwise. Especially now that he had decided he would not pursue a meaningful relationship. Well, not with Joan, his heart quickly amended.

As for the rest of what his heart wanted, he would have to form a cunning plan. The sort that a fox appointed Professor of Cunning at Oxford University would be proud of.

Where on earth had he got that bizarre thought from?

"Tea?" he brightly offered Martha and stood to carry out his self-assigned task.

To his satisfaction, John had sort of said his declaration where Donna was concerned, and he had also kind of dampened it down quite a bit by allowing Joan to take him to the supermarket once a week. It distracted him from his original wants, and Joan turned out to be a pleasant companion during those shopping trips, despite the teasing or scowls of disapproval Martha and Donna made behind his back. Yes, he had fended off his desperate need for a particular female's attention, or anything more meaningful, he decided.

However, the thought had not entirely gone away. In fact, it festered over the last couple of weeks, making him yearn for some company that was more than 'friendly'. Okay, Martha clearly still fancied him, judging by the way she eyed him at times, plus the sudden willingness to go shopping with him, and it was nice to bask in her attention, especially when Jenny and Donna weren't around, but he wasn't interested enough to take things further. One part of him was terrified Donna would find out and slap him from here to the middle of next week. Good grief, she had one powerful smack when she was put out! He dreaded to think what a punch of hers would do to tender flesh.

As for Donna herself? He daren't even consider it unless she made it clear it was okay to try. She was fond of him, don't get me wrong, but all her love was for Jenny; that much was obvious. Perhaps her regard for him went a little further than an ability to put up with him as the father in residence, but he wouldn't push his luck. Boundaries between them had been drawn up on the very first day they'd agreed to start living together, in a non-biblical sense, and he was determined to keep to them out of respect. To not do so would be foolish.

To idly break a personal code and make a pass at her would probably end their friendship. Donna wasn't the sort you could do that to. How would he ever cope without her? Not only did she take Jenny off his hands when he was unable to think, let alone look after a young child, she had become a precious friend to him all on her own. Life without her would be unthinkable and unbearable; and yet he had to force himself to consider making that happen.

Or do something rash….