A/N: We've finally got to the 'dancing' bit.

Part 12

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Anne lifted her face up to the late afternoon sun and sighed deeply. "Ah, this is the life, eh? Time to relax and enjoy the summer at last."

Beside her on the grass, Martha gently laughed. "For about five minutes. Then it's back to the same old grind."

"Talking of old grinds, here comes lover boy himself," Anne joked as John approached, closely followed by Jenny and Donna.

"Why do you call him that?"

Keeping her voice low, Anne leaned in to reply, "The way he plays it cool with you and Donna, as if he isn't interested."

Martha frowned. "But he isn't interested. With either of us," she insisted.

"Are you sure?" Anne then tisked in disbelief. "Just keep your eyes open. That's all I'm saying." She then greeted her friends. "Hello! My, Jenny, you look very pretty today."

A delighted Jenny gave her a spin round to show off her outfit. "This is my new dress. Martha fetched it."

"Don't you mean 'bought it'?"

"No," Jenny corrected, "because Daddy paid but Martha camed home with it."

"Well, I can't argue with that," Anne commented, chuckling despite herself. "She chose well. Are you going to dance for us all?"

Jenny fervently nodded. "I want to dance lots and lots."

"Then I'd better put some music on," Anne decided and began to get up from her seated position on the grass. "And then make sure everyone has a drink. Follow me inside." Taking Jenny's eager hand, she led the way into her flat.

A couple of hours later, the party was going full flow in Anne's flat; mindful of not having the music too loud, for the benefit of any night shift workers living nearby. Enjoying herself immensely was Jenny. She was being danced with by Donna, who spun and twirled her about in time to the music, causing Jenny to giggle with delight.

They had stopped for a breather and a quick refreshing drink when Donna was approached by a young man. "Hello. I didn't expect to see you here," he remarked.

It was Florence Ward houseman Steve Cavendish. They had often seen him chatting with Martha on her ward or in the corridor when Jenny when to meet John after playgroup. "Hello Steve. I almost didn't recognise you in normal clothes."

He looked at himself. "Oh, you mean t-shirt and jeans," he smirked. "I like to dress different on my days off. Although I don't normally look as nice as Jenny does."

Her little face lit up at the compliment.

Across the room, Anne was watching the conversation with interest. "Isn't that houseman Steve chatting up Donna?"

"Anne, do you think any man talking to a woman is trying to chat her up?" Martha chided.

"Not always, but I'd bet money that John sees it that way." They both glanced to where John stood, slowly drinking a beer.

His attention was completely on the exchange between Jenny, Donna and Steve. The music had started up again and, whatever Steve had said to her resulted in Donna laughing before gyrating her hips to the music, emphasising her voluptuous figure in doing so.

"Now this is going to get good," Anne gleefully noted. "John is about to make his move on her."

"Don't be daft!" Martha retorted. "If he does anything, it's because he's worried about Jenny."

"I think not," Anne stated with precision. "Did you know that some people call them Mr and not-yet-Mrs Smith? Living in sin, they reckon. And they have a point seeing them that way, when you think about it. Your John is eaten up with jealousy. Just look at him."

A testy Martha insisted, "He isn't jealous, and he's not my John."

"No, he isn't," Anne agreed. "Although he is possessive and he's clearly Donna's. Oh ho! Here it comes."

They saw John take down an encouraging gulp of his drink, shove the glass down on a surface behind him without looking, and walk determinedly towards the dancing trio. The two men greeted each other and then Steve sauntered off soon afterwards.

"Step one," Anne announced to Martha. "He'll now lean to talk to Donna… Oh yes, there he goes. Step two. And any moment now he'll do step three."

"Which is?"

"Dancing close with her, of course." Anne rolled her eyes in disbelief that Martha had to ask.

"Without dancing with Jenny? I don't think so."

"You want to bet?" Anne offered. "He'll find a way. You make my words."

A few dances later, Martha had forgotten Anne's expected step three, and happily dancing alongside John, Donna and Jenny as they sung to the words of the song playing. It felt good to be so carefree for a change, and Martha allowed herself to relax into the experience.

There was a tug on her hand, and Martha peered down to see her small friend looking pensive. "Can you help me get an orange drink?" Jenny asked.

"Of course," Martha agreed, and guided Jenny through the other dancers.

Once in Anne's kitchen, she poured Jenny an orange squash, which the child gulped down with gratitude. It was only when they returned to the main room that she became suspicious.

In their absence, John had gradually danced closer and closer to Donna, before taking her hand and guiding her into an impromptu, and somewhat halted, quickstep. They were just stepping side to side, but that didn't matter to him. He was holding her body close, in public, in a completely appropriate way. And she didn't seem to mind one bit as they swayed and sung softly together, even when they lost eye contact so that he could dance with her cheek to cheek. Closing his eyes, he could pretend they were alone in a musical sea, were her scent surrounded him, and their future full of love teased him with such delights.

For a moment, Donna thought she felt his lips against her temple, pressing a loving kiss. But she must be mistaken, mustn't she? John Smith wasn't that sort of a bloke.

Well, the Doctor definitely wasn't, but could John possibly be a man capable of showing love? The body of the man pressed hard up against her seemed to suggest that yes, John was perfectly capable of being a human lover.

She lifted her head to gaze into his eyes, fascinated by the warmth held there as he smiled gently down at her. It made her want to stay within his arms forever.

Their embrace broke when Martha 'accidentally' jostled them. "Sorry to butt in," she blustered. "I thought you'd want to know that Jenny is tired."

John immediately grew concerned. "Are you sweetheart?" he asked his daughter.

"Yes, Daddy," Jenny replied, and added in a yawn to underline the fact.

"I assume you must be tuckered out after all that dancing," Donna reasoned. "I know I'm flagging, and it's well past your bedtime."

"Is it?" John consulted his watch and nodded in agreement. "Time we got you to bed," he declared, swooping Jenny up into his arms. "We'd better go and say goodnight to Anne."

"She's over there," Donna supplied, pointing at a far corner. She then turned to address Martha. "Are you coming home with us, or are you staying on?"

Now that Jenny was back acting as chaperone, Martha had no qualms about letting them go. "I think I'll stay for a little bit longer. But I won't be too late. Probably by midnight."

"Okay," John acknowledged. He was worried about her safety, but he wasn't going to let on about it. "We'll see you later. Have a good time."

It wasn't hard for Martha to agree, because she wanted to enjoy this party. But the little incident she had just broken up worried her. What was John Smith playing at? He wasn't supposed to behave in that way. Especially if it was towards Donna. It had been bad enough when it had looked as though his attention might be on Joan Redfern.

Now that relationship had caused her to desperately visit the TARDIS and review the video message the Doctor had left her. Not that it had helping in the slightest. It had been all about not letting him upset things or abandon them while he hid from the Aubertide. Nothing was mentioned about the possibility of him falling in love; and once he had dismissed Joan into the friend zone, she had stopped worrying. If he wasn't interested in Joan, then he was happily ensconced in platonic relationships.

However, the dance schmooze she had witnessed that evening had brought back all her old fears. Yes, she had to face the possibility that the Doctor had fallen in love with a human. Even weirder to consider, that human was Donna Noble. What a to do!

Given the choice, John would have held Donna's hand all the way home. That had been his quickly forged plan. But a tired and yawning Jenny had soon scuppered that, and he was left carrying her home instead.

Never mind. He would have to create a new plan, he told himself. His spirits were quite high because Donna had danced closely with him, had allowed him to hold her tight; hadn't squirmed or told him off for kissing her temple.

Oh my! That thought caused him to gasp in some badly needed breaths. She seemed willing to accept his advances. This was serious business.

"You smell funny, Daddy," Jenny remarked as he tucked the bed covers under her chin and kissed her goodnight.

"Do I? Sorry," he mumbled, deeply embarrassed. After sniffing his jacket, he announced, "It's beer. Must have spilt some on me."

Wrinkling up her nose in disgust, Jenny agreed. "It's also on your breath."

"Then I shall go and brush my teeth immediately to get rid of it, and you, young lady, are to sleep some lovely dreams."

"I will," she sleepily replied, and yawned wide. "Can you kiss Donna goodnight for me?"

"What!" He was stunned by her choice of words for some seconds. "I… yes… well… I'll see what I can do. Goodnight. Sleep tight."

"Night night, Daddy," was mumbled in his direction, but Jenny had rolled over and was well on the way to a deep slumber.

When he returned to the lounge, Donna was sat, half cross-legged on the sofa, watching the television. The tilt of her head as she smiled at him in greeting made him want to throw himself on the carpet before her and beg for… He wasn't quite sure what for, but he knew it involved them, together. "Hello," he softly said.

"Hello," she returned the greeting. "Parkie will be on in a minute, and I've made us tea. That cup is yours," she announced, pointing to one of the two cups on the coffee table in front of her.

It's position easily made him sit down beside her, so he relished the thrill that ran through his body.

"Did Jenny go off all right?" Donna asked him.

"More or less," he answered, sipping from his assigned cup. "She complained that I smell of beer."

"Poor kid," Donna commiserated. "You don't normally touch alcohol so it must be a surprise for her."

"I don't often get the chance, but I don't mind the taste."

"It's given you a little bit of Dutch courage," she noted.

"Courage?" he queried. "Do I need that?"

"Not usually," she allowed, "but it's making you act different."

"How different?"

"The dancing, for a start." She deliberately picked up her own cup before saying, "You normally avoid dancing with anyone unless you think no one is watching you with Jenny."

John went to deny this, but she was right. The beer had galvanised him into action. "It's hard when you're shy."

"You? Shy?!" she laughed in disbelief.

A throaty laugh of joy that streaked though his body and hit him right in the groin. "Yes, I'm shy," he maintained.

"Introverted at times, but far from shy."

"Can you be extroverted and shy?" he pondered.

"I don't know," she admitted. "All right, I'll believe you're shy. Thousands wouldn't. Do you admit to being tipsy then?"

Huffing, he slumped nearer to her, until his head rested on her shoulder. "I suppose so. Do you mind?"

"Nah," she retorted. If he was a little bit drunk, she could not pretend she had the same excuse to let him sit so close. "Just as long as there's no nonsense."

He frowned, wondering if she would consider the offer he was about to make as nonsense.

"Donna," he hesitantly began, "there's the hospital summer fête this weekend. Tomorrow, in fact."

"Yes, I know," she idly replied, not looking at him. "Jenny is excited to find out what one is like."

"And what about you?"

She stopped listening to Jimmy Hill waffling on about some football match and turned her attention properly onto him. "Not excited, exactly, but I'm looking forward to it. Although making a fancy-dress costume for Jenny might prove to have been beyond my capabilities. Why?" Her eyes narrowed as she expected to hear a request from him to do something for it, or at the very least take over Jenny's requirements, as usual.

"I was thinking of asking someone to go with me," he cautiously revealed.

The breath stuttered in her throat for a second. He had found a potential girlfriend since dismissing Joan. How should she cope with that? Her instinct was to scream "NO!" but she knew that would be selfish and inconsiderate. After all, he deserved a small piece of happiness every now and then. It wasn't his fault she had an empty love life for the foreseeable future.

"Who were you thinking of asking?" she tried to nonchalantly ask as she continued to half listen to the pundits on Match of the Day.

To look at him as he revealed the name would be unbearable, so she steeled herself to hear who his choice would be.

"I was… that is… I was thinking, perhaps…," he stammered.

Aww, he's cute when he's nervous, she couldn't help thinking; and turned to regard him with a huge, fond smile on her face. "You were? Anyone in particular?" she teased.

The warmth of her gaze encouraged him enough to admit, "I was thinking of asking you."

"To babysit?" she immediate assumed. "Of course, I will. Who is the lucky lady?"

"No, no, you misunderstand me," he quickly tried to correct her, sitting up straight. "I want to go to the fête, with you."

"Are you meeting her there then? I suppose that could work if she doesn't finish her shift until after lunch," she reasoned. "Don't worry about me. I'll make myself scarce as soon as she turns up."

His mouth opened and closed a couple of times as he gawped at her. Was she really this thick, or had experience made her remain so deep in denial? Probably the latter, judging by the person he knew her to be; and that thought saddened him a great deal.

"Donna, you're not hearing me correctly," he stressed. "The person I am asking to go with me is you. There is no one else. But if you'd rather not…"

"Me?" she gasped, clasping at her throat in self-comfort. "You mean me?"

He nodded, worried that she was about to reject him.

"This is…" Okay, the word she sought finally came to her. "This is brilliant! I honestly thought you were going to say someone else."

"I gathered that."

Her pleased grin suddenly dropped. "Hang on," she cautioned him. "Is this a friends date, or a date-date? I don't mind either way, but I'd rather know now."

"Donna," he retorted, drawing in a breath. "I was rather hoping it would be a proper date-date. Unless you cannot abide the thought of me being more than a friend."

"No. You're fine," she consoled him as the warmth of his words spread across her chest.

A date that was a real and genuine date. She wanted to squeal with delight; and if she'd been with Jenny, she would have done. But this was John Smith, university lecturer and hospital specialist. A man of some standing.

She puffed out her cheeks. Blimey! If only her mum could see her now.

"Are you alright?" he wondered from surprisingly close.

Startled, she looked up into his concerned eyes. "Yeah. Just getting used to the idea. You know."

"If it's too much, we can postpone the date," he offered.

"There's no need to," she brightly replied. "I might never get the chance again, knowing my luck because, let's face it, you'll probably bang your head tonight and forget you ever asked me."

"Wouldn't you remind me if that happened?"

His kind grin would be her undoing if she wasn't careful. All that positivity aimed at her was a little unnerving. "Depends how you act towards me," she confessed with a defensive shrug. "You wouldn't be the first bloke to suddenly change your mind about being seen out with me in public."

"Oh, I think I know what this is about," he reasoned. His expression turned sympathetic. "Not every man is as awful as Lance was towards you. We are good friends first and foremost," he stated, drawing her up into his arms, to rest her head on his shoulder. "I would never willingly harm you," he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to her temple. "And I hope you know how much you've come to mean to me. To both of us. So, I will ask you again: would you rather I left this date business for another time?"

She pulled back enough to look him directly in the eye and was delighted by the soft emotion she saw there. It was all she could do to stop herself kissing him senseless. "I would love to go on a date with you tomorrow. There is one thing I want you to do for me though."

"Oh? What's that?"

"Can you be the one to tell Martha?"

He immediately blanched. "Okay, I owe her that. Just make sure you are close by. Please."