Part 13

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It was just as the Michael Parkinson Show was ending on the telly that Martha went home to the flat she shared with John Smith and Donna. Not that she'd been keen to see them after that little incidence at the party. But she was a reasonable person who didn't bear grudges for long. It would have been different if Donna had thrown herself at him, but she hadn't.

From what Donna had told her, her style was to be rather more forthright with the blokes she fancied, otherwise you don't tend to get results. So Martha wasn't that worried about the relationship lasting once the Aubertide died and they could escape 1986. No, she suspected her own irritation was down to missing Tom. Yet another couple of months that were empty and he was inaccessible. She sighed deeply as she took her key out of the front door lock, mentally noting how much she missed being with him. Even with the phone calls she had risked making to hear his voice. Thank goodness for the universal roaming upgrade the Doctor had provided. She just wished he had considered that his human self might want to find love, and in a way they could cope with. As it was, there was no way a great deal of hurt would be avoided.

"Hello!" she called out, hearing the faint strains of music coming from the television.

Within seconds, Donna appeared in the doorway, looking rather flushed. "Oh, you're back. Hello. Did you have a good time? I'll put the kettle on," she immediately offered, heading for the kitchen.

"It wasn't bad," Martha replied, following her. "Managed to get a dance with houseman Steve."

Donna gave her a cheeky smile. "I promise not to tell Tom when I eventually get to meet him. Can't say I blame you in the slightest."

"What have you two been up to?" Martha wondered.

"Not much," Donna confessed, turning to her task to give it her full attention. "Been watching some telly. Reliving my teenage years, like you do."

"Not that you can admit that to John," Martha remarked. "Has he erm… has he been any different towards you?"

Stalling, Donna requested, "Any particular reason why you ask?"

"Don't play dumb," Martha laughed, taking her offered mug brimming with hot tea. "You know I'm asking because he danced with you."

"Oh, that." Donna coyly tilted her head. "It did surprise me."

Before she could say anything else, a very sleepy and dishevelled John joined them in the kitchen. "Did you do me a tea? Hello Martha. Sorry I didn't come out earlier, but I fell asleep on the settee. Probably the beer. Been quite a while since I've had any."

"That's all right," Martha genially replied. "As long as you enjoyed yourself at Anne's"

"I did," he agreed, nodding; and then took his own mug of tea from Donna's hands. He took a hesitant sip in order to avoid saying anything else about himself yet. "Did you have a good time?"

"I danced more than I expected," Martha confessed. "My feet are killing me and now I'm beyond tired. It's been an exhausting week."

"The heat hasn't helped," he added. "But at least you haven't had to sit a load of exams."

"Not this time, no."

"Shall we all go and sit down?" Donna suggested. "The party's over now so we don't have to all stand in the kitchen."

"Funny how that always happens," Martha commented. "I think I'll finish this tea and then go to bed."

"Good idea," Donna answered. "John looks dead on his feet after all that unexpected exercise."

"Oi!" he grumbled, leading the way into the lounge. "Anyone would think I just laze about."

"I wasn't saying that, you prawn," she chided. "I was referring to your sudden bout of dancing. I can see where Jenny gets it from now."

She eyed him as he sat down with Martha next to him, waiting for him to make his announcement. Alas, he didn't.

So she waited until he had raised his mug to his lips before remarking, "Although Jenny can actually dance, whereas you're more like a spider with a broken leg."

"Donna!" he spluttered, trying not to inhale the whole mouthful. "Do you have to?!" He glared at her while wiping his hand down his shirt to remove any spillage.

"What?" she demanded, doing her best to look innocently over the rim of her mug at him. "Did I say something?"

Martha merely laughed with delight. It felt good to see the Doctor in any guise brought down a peg or two. "You two," she giggled. "You make me die."

"Well, don't die yet. It's your turn to do dinner tomorrow night," Donna joked.

"Donna Noble, noted humanitarian," John sarcastically quipped; and burst into laughter when she swatted him on the arm.

Even with the window wide open, Donna was feeling far too hot to fall sleep. The room desperately needed a fan but there was no chance of getting one. Across the bedroom, Martha seemed to be sound asleep. Probably all that drink and dancing, Donna thought.

She tossed and turned in bed, trying to turn her mind off. Lots of questions kept flittering across her mind. Questions like: what would have happened if he hadn't fell sleep on her shoulder? Why hadn't he told Martha, as promised? Did he actually mean what he'd said? Or had it only been the drink talking?

Round and round her head, the questions appeared, stabbed mental fingers at her, and laughed at her vulnerability. I mean, fancy believing a man like that could be genuinely interested in her! Hadn't those been the precise words her mother had often used against her?

"You'll never amount to anything. Men are only interested in you because they want to practice on the secretarial staff. They'll end up with someone else, and you'll get nothing beyond being on your own. Serves you right for being gullible. Even your cousin Janice has got herself a man. And what have you got? Nothing."

It hadn't even changed when she'd took the Doctor home with her. No, all the bitterness and bile came pouring out. First because her mum thought she was in a relationship with the Doctor, and then because she wasn't. She just couldn't win.

Which led her thoughts on to the possible reception if she actually did turn up on the doorstep with John as her boyfriend. Oh dear. 'A bit negative' didn't get anywhere near to describing it. Her mum would have a pink fit.

Although to get home, he'd have to be able to pilot the TARDIS, and would therefore, need to be his usual self. Hmm. Not very likely then. Judging by that dream diary of his, he was still pretty hung up on Rose, and had no room for anyone else. That's of course if he even considered her as a replacement for a split second. John Smith might be ignorant and daft that way, but the Doctor wasn't. No doubt he'd burn with embarrassment at the memory of asking her out, before frogmarching her out of his TARDIS and into the gutter sooner than you could say Jack Robinson.

Aw gawd! He really was going to be appalled at the thought, wasn't he? She was behaving like a right numpty by letting John act that way. It was best that she nipped it in the bud and give him the cold shoulder.

Okay, not quite the cold shoulder, but one that was certainly cooler than he wanted. That way she could re-establish them as friends and nothing more. That'd do it.

But what about Jenny? She was desperate to call her 'Mum'. If she wasn't mistaken, the little madam had manipulated her dad into making a romantic move. Well, she'd have to be disappointed, Donna decided. Although she'd be heartbroken when he kicked Donna out. Could she do that to the child? Jenny was innocent in all this.

And what about poor Martha? She had to be considered in all this. By saying 'yes' to John, she had ruined two relationships, possibly three. Donna hated herself in those brief seconds. Not only had she hurt the people she loved most in that world, she had also caused herself infinite damage. She wouldn't blame Martha if she never spoke to her again. Everything was ruined.

Now more than tearful, Donna sat up, wiped her eyes, and glanced over at the innocent form of Martha in the other bed. She would make it up to her, Donna vowed. In any way possible. And if John hated her when she broke his heart, she would have to face that and cope. Put her big girl's knickers on, as her nan used to say.

Her throat hurt, her head was hot, and she was covered in sweat, so she got up as quietly as she could and made for the kitchen to get a glass of water.

The darkness in the flat was slightly illuminated by the far-off sodium lights outside, making it relatively easy to find her way to the sink. In no time at all she was gulping down a glass of wonderfully cold water.

Just as she sighed in completion, a warm body pressed up against her back and a husky voice murmured into her ear, "Couldn't you sleep too?"

"John!" she hissed in shock. "You idiot. Fancy creeping up on me like that. I almost flattened you then."

His arms wrapped around her waist from behind, and she was fervently aware of him being dressing in only thin cotton pyjamas. Not the ideal situation when you were only dressed in a flimsy nightie.

"Good job you can't reach me back here," he risked joking. "Saved myself from being slapped."

"Why are you here?" she grouched, not wanting to be seduced by his nearness.

"Same reason as you. Couldn't sleep so came to get some water."

"We can't do this. Sorry," she stated, breaking away from his grasp.

But he wasn't letting her go that easily, and he reached out to place his hands on her waist as she turned to face him. "Are you worried about us meeting in the middle of the night like this, or is it something else?"

"I just…" On a sob, she whispered, "We shouldn't be anywhere near each other."

"Why?"

"I'm obviously not the one you want."

"Donna, I not only want you, I need you," he whispered, tenderly reaching out to cup her cheek.

But she shook her head and pulled away again. "No, we can't do this," she said. At his crestfallen expression, she tried to console him by saying, "I understand what the problem is, John. Honest I do. You're horny and desperate. I get that because sometimes I'm like that too."

"Then why won't you kiss me?"

"Why?" She gave a mirthless laugh. "Probably because I value our friendship. Far too much to idly throw it away on a one-night stand."

"We needn't be only a one-night thing," he countered. "This could be the start of something beautiful."

"Or it will probably all blow up in my face, like every other time I have risked kissing a bloke." She determinedly shook her head. "No, I am not losing the most precious thing I have ever had. For what? A quick bunk up because you need to practice having sex with a woman again. The answer's 'no'. I can't be merely practice for some bloke, and certainly not for you. I just can't. I can't…"

His eyes shone in the darkness and his voice came out thick with emotion, yet he allowed her some dignity. "Don't cry, Donna. Please don't cry," he begged, wiping away the tears from her cheeks. "I didn't mean to upset or offend you with my declaration."

"I'm not offended," she immediately insisted, "or upset."

"Of course, you aren't," he tenderly agreed, wiping more of her tears away with his fingertips. "No idea why I thought you were," he gently teased, getting the tiny smile he had been hoping for. "As we all know, Donna Noble doesn't cry over just anything."

"I certainly don't."

"Yet there's this small problem with her logic."

"Oh?" she couldn't resist responding.

"You see," he began, cupping her face within his hands in order to gaze lovingly into her eyes, "Donna Noble doesn't realise she deserves to be loved with all of someone's heart."

He could not mean what this sounded like, surely he couldn't? "Would that someone be a random person who might appear one day, or did you have anyone specific in mind?"

"Funnily enough," he softly proposed, "I was thinking of me." Easing closer, his breath whispered across her lips. "Specifically doing exactly this…" His mouth touched her face with the warmth of a summer breeze. "... as well as this…" Their lips met, oh so briefly. "...but if you grant me permission, I really want to…"

Warmth seared through her body when his mouth landed fully on her lips, answering every ache with a loving salve. It took everything she had just to cling onto him and not be swept away by the passion he both created and fed in her. Did anything that was so wrong have any right to feel so good?

When his tongue eased open her lips, granting access to explore beyond, she didn't even attempt to stop him. Why bother? The damage had been done now. She would never know any rest until she could do this again, so it was useless to fight it. Her future would only hold the pain of this memory so why not enjoy every ounce of this delicious moment?

After that, it made sense to fully open to his passionate kisses and let the consequences fight their own battle. In the here and now, she could love him back, unguarded and unashamed.

"Do whatever you like," she murmured her assent and let him guide them to further heights.

Wrapped around each other, they traded deep kiss after passionate, loving kiss as hands smoothed over covered flesh. As desire built between them, there was only their aroused feelings could go.

Then quite suddenly the world was a blaze of blinding light and angry, judgemental words were being hurled in their direction.

"What the hell is going on here?!" Martha demanded.