A/N: I thought I'd keep to the same sort of length for the following chapters. Hope that's alright.

Part 2

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The temperature changed in the narrow corridor as they neared the stage, getting hotter as the vibrant energy of anticipation in the air expanded. Music pulsed from somewhere ahead of them, but they weren't quite near enough to have any conversation drowned out by it. John could feel the beat in his teeth as they approached the stage wings.

Unaware of his nostalgic thoughts, his latest assignment forged on in front him, along the corridor. "Martha, look what I've got with me," Donna greeted her friend and fellow band mate.

"What?" Martha queried, bending to look behind Donna and seeing a tall, attractive man. "Who's he?"

"This is my new shadow," Donna continued, thumbing towards him. "John, meet the one and only Martha Jones."

"It's a pleasure, Ms Jones." He beamed a smile as he greeted her.

However, his head jerked sideways when Donna placed a tender hand on his arm.

"Don't get too overexcited," she warned, leaning in to speak close to his ear. "I haven't shown you to Rose yet."

"A big fan of hers, is he?" Martha pondered with a knowing smirk on her face.

"No more than normal," Donna retorted. "And here's the lovely lady herself."

"Who?" Rose asked as she appeared by their side. "Have I done something wrong?"

"Not really," Donna joked. "Just wanted to introduce my new bodyguard to you. Rose, meet John."

A bright smile instantly spread across Rose's face. "Well hello John," she seductively drawled.

"That's enough of that," Donna interrupted her flirt, pushing Rose towards the stage. "I've already exceeded my sugar allowance for today."

"Donna, you spoil all my fun," Rose playfully complained, letting herself be pushed. "Let me just have a minute."

"Later," Donna responded as they stepped properly onto the stage. "Rory will be furious if we leave him alone on stage for too long. Poor sweetheart has enough trouble keeping control of his drums as it is."

"I heard that!" Rory grumbled from his drum kit. At least he was used to their teasing now, but when he'd first started as part of their backing group, he'd been unsure how to take it.

Standing vigilantly in the wings, John saw the guitarist, Mickey, take his position and smirk at Rory in consolation. Mickey Smith and Rory Williams were fine musicians, from what he remembered, back in his own band days. It was good to see that they were still part of the scene, and he promised himself that he'd grab the chance to catch up with them properly later.

Then he sighed because, just as the three women readied themselves to sing, Donna turned and gave him a saucy wink. What had he let himself in for? At least this new assignment was turning out to be amusing, he considered. As for the glamorous trio now stood in front of their microphones, time would only tell.

It took all his willpower to remain scanning the audience for any possible threat as The Companions sang their set. His heart wanted him to turn and listen properly, to bask in his new success being nearer to them. Okay, he had all the albums, with his favourite songs saved to his phone, but to stand there with them actually performing the tunes he knew so well was amazing.

Then Donna glanced cheekily in his direction and he was gone, drifting off into night-time fantasies for a few seconds before his brain jerked him back into the moment. Minx, he thought. She knew what she was doing to him.

Or perhaps she didn't, he realised. This was all part of her teasing him for mentioning the other girls. He silently vowed to himself that she would never get to see his poster collection or saved images. Not if he wanted to savour his life.

He wished he had shared more than two words with her, back when they'd been on the same bill. But it worked in his favour if she hardly remembered him personally. At least she knew who Kasterborous were. Had been.

Dutifully, he had followed her back to the dressing room once their set was over, keen to appear on the ball. When she had opened the door, she halted him entering the room, whispering, "You can give the room a quick once over, to make sure it's safe but after that, you stay out here while I change. Is that understood?"

Flustered, he answered, "Well, erm… I should technically stay in the room. You know. Just in case."

"And technically you don't want me to thump you in the crown jewels," she countered, smiling her sweetest smile. "That way, we can all be happy."

Involuntarily placing a hand in front of him protectively, he murmured, "I think I can live with that."

"Good. Now go on, Mr Bodyguard. Be a good boy and scan the room." She leaned closer to say, "I might give you a little treat later."

He turned his head to complain about being spoken to like a puppy and found himself almost too near tempting lips. All he could smell, and taste was her perfume, inviting him to stay close. "What sort of a treat?" he heard himself feebly asked.

She merely pouted and moved to stand in front of the mirror. "That would be telling," she teased, speaking via her reflection. "Now hurry up. I want to have a quick shower before we leave for the hotel."

As he peered in all the significant corners of the room, he couldn't help envisioning that shower, and raced out the room to hide his shame. If he didn't get this bit right, he'd never cope with being in the same hotel room.