A/N: good grief! There's more of it!

Part 4

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The words 'Lance Bennett' and 'what has happened to him?' rang like alarm bells in a horror film in Donna's head. She could feel her heartrate speed up as the implications hit her.

Her face went slack. "Pardon! Did you say Lance Bennett?"

"This Lance Bennett," John stated, bringing out a small photo from his jacket pocket and sliding it towards her. "Do you know him?"

Taking the photo, she briefly glanced at it, knowing that the image would be familiar and biting back on her reaction. "Yes, I knew him," she quietly confirmed, handing it carefully it back, "long ago. Why are you looking for him?"

John pocketed the photo as he considered his words. "His brother is looking for Lance. Apparently, he has gone missing."

"Missing," Donna gasped in horror. "How long ago?"

"A couple of days. Maybe a week."

She shook her head, thinking of the agony Lance's poor family were going through. "No idea where he is. Sorry."

John eyed her suspiciously. "You don't sound overly surprised I'm looking for him."

Smirking in relief, she answered, "Well, it did say to pay your wages to a detective agency on your paperwork. It's not exactly a huge leap to assume what you do with the rest of your time when you're done modelling is a spot of investigating."

"Fair enough," he conceded. He pointed a manicured fingernail at the jacket pocket where the photo lay. "Why did you stop seeing Lance?"

Taking a deep breath for courage, she confessed, "Because he dumped me unceremoniously."

"Oh, so you ended up not being the best of friends," he understated.

"You could say that," she replied with a shrug, "considering he told me I was too boring and then went off with some exotic foreign bird."

"Ouch."

"Yeah," she sighed. "Can't say I'm proud of it, but I refuse to be ashamed."

"Good for you," he murmured. "Right. I'd better be off."

She stopped him rising from his seat by placing a hand on his forearm. "About Lance. I'll ask around, if you like. Somebody's bound to have seen him. They've just been polite by not telling me."

"Thanks. I'd appreciate that." With a huge, sunny smile, he left her sitting there, thinking.

The following day was the last of that particular male magazine photoshoot and wasn't expected to last until the evening. Nevertheless, John turned up much earlier than he previously had, feeling in quite a good mood.

"Here he is. Mr November," Donna cheekily greeted him. "Or would October for Halloween be more appropriate?"

To her delight, he laughed. "As long as I can be your horror story, that's fine with me."

He was surprised when she later sidled up to him, as he began changing out of his clothes, to whisper, "About that info you wanted. I found out where he was last. Here." With that, she pushed a folded-up piece of paper into his hands.

Too curious not to wait, he unfolded it and saw the printout of a company that attended bridal shows, and the dates of the next few events they would be at. His face lit up. "Donna, you are brilliant!"

"I have my moments," she modestly replied, and then suddenly looked away.

What was the matter with her? he wondered. Oh, he realised. He had undone his trousers and was about to remove them. Hmm. Nodding his head, it was nice to know some people still respected his privacy. "One of those dates for the bridal shows is this weekend. Tomorrow, in fact," he carefully worded his request.

"I had noticed that," she admitted, still politely staring in the opposite direction.

"Do you fancy going with me?" Her head whipped round to gaze at him, so he amended the offer. "To keep me company in such an alien place. Seeing as you know him personally, it might help to pick him out if he's in disguise," he tried. "It would be a nice trip out for the day. Unless you already have plans?"

"No, no plans," she answered, somewhat stunned by the invitation. "Fortunately, I love wedding fayres. What time were you thinking of leaving?"

"Early," he replied.

"Alright," she accepted. "Where shall we meet?"

"I'll come and pick you up from your house," he stated. "And dress warm, with layers," he added after some moments' thought.

"Okay." No, not ominous at all, she decided.

He turned up bright and early outside her house the following morning to find her waiting patiently on the pavement. His arrival was nothing but triumphant.

"You never said you had a motorbike!" she exclaimed in glee as soon as she could tell him.

The only thing immediately recognisable about him was his wide grin but she would have known that slim build anywhere. Every item of his attire was black, mainly black leather. She watched in awe as he removed his helmet and shook out his long auburn hair. Blimey! And she thought that effect only worked for women in films. He looked gorgeous! Judging by his grin, he knew it too.

"Didn't I tell you?" he teased. Giving the bike below him a fond pat, he added, "I've had her a while now."

It was certainly a beast of a machine, but somehow it suited him to a tee. Funnily enough, leaning back on his bike meant his eyes briefly glanced downwards, taking in Donna's long legs clad in skinny jeans in the process, and he appreciated the view.

"Hop on. I've got your helmet ready," he said as he held out one matching his own. "Ever been on a motorbike before?"

"Only the once," she supplied as she prepared herself to clamber on behind him and hold on tight, with her arms wrapped around his slim waist. "Shouldn't be too hard."

He reached down to slightly loosen her grip. "Give me room to breathe and I'll be alright."

"Are you alright now?" she sought to find out.

"Very," he agreed before starting the engine, giving out a throaty roar as they moved off.

Conversation was impossible as they sped along but John was glad, in a way. It allowed him to enjoy the touch of another human being for a change, even if they were clinging on to him for grim death. Well, his passenger would definitely be badly injured if she fell off, and her breath felt comforting as it occasionally brushed across the back of his neck. What he hadn't anticipated was how he would feel once they arrived in the car park of the wedding fayre.

The unexpected bit happened once Donna climbed off the bike. She went and mimicked him earlier, by lifting off her helmet before shaking out her hair, letting the long ginger tresses sway around her face for a second. The mischievous lure in her eyes, and the seductive smile on her lips, took all coherent thought out of his head and let desire in.

"It's a bit posh here, don't you think," she commented, looking at the nearby grand building. It was an impressive country manor in extensive grounds. When he didn't respond as she'd expected him to, she verbally prodded him with, "Earth to John! I spoke to you just now."

"Oh. Sorry," he faintly answered as the dramatic effect the action had on him began to wear off. "Yeah. I suppose so."

"You're pathetic," she grouched, having suspected him of taking the mick out of her, and strode passed him to head for the entrance.

The main question on his mind as he followed was: why was he suddenly such a pushover for a cheeky grin? Especially one flashed at him by someone like Donna Noble. It was as if the woman had bewitched him and he'd be blowed if she would think her charms had any effect upon his senses.

Keep your mind on the job, Smith, he chided himself when his gaze accidentally landed on her trim backside again. Fraternising with the 'help' wouldn't do.

Instead, he busied himself with making sure he held the ticket to their helmets and Donna's coat they'd dropped off with the venue's cloakroom attendant.