A/N: sorry for the update delay but a family bereavement meant that I had to completely rewrite this chapter as it went extremely dark (perhaps I'll post it as an alternative ending later on).


Part 11

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"A bit quick," John noted as Donna's words rang in his head and threatened to take up residence in his heart. "Don't you want to know more about the position?"

"To be honest, I'm expecting to be paid similar if not better wages," she remarked, "with lots of perks."

His wine glass stopped midway to his mouth and he suspiciously asked, "What sort of perks?"

"Nothing like that, you berk." She then thumbed towards the interior of his flat. "I mean full usage of that bathroom whenever I want, for a start."

"Different," he murmured with a chuckle. "It can be arranged. Of course, your extensive secretarial skill set is what I really want, and it would mean ditching the agency temp work," he pointed out. "I'd expect total dedication from you."

"Oh no, however will I cope," she deadpanned.

The true question was: 'however will I cope being with you?' he thought. "Then let's drink to new enterprises," he suggested, raising his glass.

As she touched glasses with him, she thought to ask, "There is one little detail we need to establish."

"Oh?"

"When do I start?"

"Hmm. As soon as you finish with Daniel." He smiled mischievously at her and took a sip. "How about starting with a little bit tonight? Do a spot of looking around while the time is ripe."

She sat back and crossed her legs as she thought. "Yeah. Why not. How late are we likely to be?"

"If it gets too late, I suppose you could crash here," he was shocked to hear himself offer. Blame it on the distraction of her long legs appearing in his peripheral vision.

"Not sure that'd be practical," she reasoned. "I don't have clean underwear, for a start."

"But I do," he countered. "I have a spare toothbrush and I'm sure a fresh pair of my pants would fit you."

Her eyes narrowed as she asked, "And where would I sleep?"

"In the spare bedroom," he quickly assured her. "Unless you planned to sleep elsewhere?"

"You wish!" she retorted. "A spare bed would be fine, should I need it. Are you worried about me being seen leaving your flat in the morning?"

The question gave him the chance to lean forward and saucily point out, "We're pretending to be engaged, remember. It'd all seem perfectly normal."

"I suppose so," she agreed. "Then let's get on with it." When his eyebrows rose into his hairline, she added, "The investigation. Don't make out you didn't know what I meant. Pft! You tart."

Instead of retorting, he answered by saying, "I'll get my keys."


On the one hand, Donna was pleased they weren't travelling on his motorbike because she was wearing a skirt. On the other hand, she had expected him to drive something a lot fancier than the rust heap he'd led her to.

Glancing out of the car window at the dark scenery passing by, she couldn't resist asking, "Is this really your car or are you just driving it for a bet?"

"It's my car, I assure you," he confirmed. "What makes you ask?"

"Well, it isn't very you, is it," she argued. "I mean, it is not brand new or flashy in any way. I'd expected an Aston Martin or a Jag, not an old Ford. My dad used to refer to these as Dagenham dustbins. It's just ancient, common and well… ordinary."

A chuckle escaped his lips. "That is rather the point of having this car. It blends in. Which is very useful when you're trying not to be noticed."

She studied him. "A bit of a dilemma for you then, not being different. Do you have a disguise too?"

With a backwards nod of his head towards the seats behind them, he said, "A cap or hat tends to work. As well as this car, obviously."

"Obviously," she agreed, looking at the knitted hat lying on the back seat. "Will I get a walkie talkie later on?"

Surprised, he questioned, "Do you want one? Why?"

She shrugged. "They always have them in heist dramas. Could be useful."

Resisting a laugh, he suggested, "Or we could just use our mobile phones."

"Oh yeah," she realised, and suddenly felt daft. "Mobile coverage isn't normally a problem in London. Might be elsewhere, like say north Norfolk."

"Luckily for us, I'm planning to stay right here," he stated as the car turned into the road they wanted. "Got a pressing need to go to Norfolk?" he teased.

"I'll let you know as soon as it crops up." She then pointed out the window. "Racnosa should be up here on the left."

He slowed the car down and immediately dimmed the lights. The showroom windows of Racnosa were brightly illuminated and a recognisable figure could be seen standing at a counter, slumped over in boredom. "Looks like someone is working late. Shall we go prod him?"

They both shared a mischievous grin.

"Race you."


Lance immediately looked up as soon as the door to Racnosa opened. "Good evening," he began and was startled when he saw Donna step in. "Hello again!"

"Hello. We saw you were open and called in on the off chance," she lied.

"You caught me in time. I'll be closing in about fifteen minutes," Lance supplied. "How can I help you?"

"We're here to pick up some information but we can easily come back another time," John stated. "Is there a brochure, Donna?"

A stunned Lance watched Donna pick up a couple of glossy brochures from the display. "Help yourself," he encouraged her, and turned to try and appear nonchalant to John. "Have you booked your wedding yet? I see you still haven't got the engagement ring."

John leaned against the counter as though he had all the time in the world. "We expect to collect the ring tomorrow. It's been especially designed for us by a friend. These jewellery artists certainly take their time. As for the wedding date, we're seeing the availability of various places first before deciding, but we don't want to wait any longer than necessary. You know how it is."

"What's that you're saying about me?" Donna pretended to grumble as she approached him; and let him wrap his arms around her body to draw her close.

"Only that I don't want you to get away from me," John crooned, placing a gooey kiss on her jawline. "Have you picked up all the information you needed?"

"Almost," she breathily answered, bringing her lips close to his. She had to say, John was excellent at pretending he was madly in love. Almost BAFTA worthy acting. "No doubt there's an email address on the literature."

Given his cue to talk, Lance burst out with, "It's there on the back page. Just send me any questions you want to ask."

Still keeping his gaze on Donna, John calmly responded, "Then we'll let you get on with your evening and indulge ourselves elsewhere."

Donna forced a giggle. "Ooh, you are awful," she schmoozed.

"I intend to be very good for you," he countered in equal tones. "Good night, Lance," he said without looking in the man's direction.

"Bye," Donna added, keeping her eyes on John.

"Yeah, bye," Lance replied, finding himself getting angrier and angrier with the couple. He vented his emotions by stomping over to the door and locking it shut behind them.

Outside, Donna clung onto John's arm with glee as they walked back to his car. "That was fun!" she enthused once they were sat inside. "Can we do it again?"

Starting the engine, he beamed a smile. "I'll see what I can arrange."

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To be concluded