Part 4

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"It doesn't look too bad," Donna commented as she led the way into the suite of rooms they'd been booked into for the next couple of days. Popping her head through each doorway, she announced what the individual rooms were.

For John it was much more impressive than the quality of room he'd last stayed in. As for the days when Kasterborous had been successful, it was all a blur, full of vaguely remembered place names rather than specific hotels or places. Apart from one particular singing trio who had shared the bill with them once. For some reason they were still crystal clear in his mind and were living up to the memory.

Whilst he stood there thinking, Donna had called dibs on certain areas within the suite. "This will be my bedroom," she declared, flinging herself down onto the huge bed within it. "What do you think? Can you manage to put up with me for now on?" she directly asked John, swivelling in her reclined position so that she could look at him through the open doorway.

"It's my job," he futilely answered. "I'm paid to protect you."

"Yes, I know all that," she retorted, "but what about 'us'? You and me. Are you willing to be friends as well as co-workers?"

Beaming at her, he confidently replied, "We should be able to."

"I think I'm going to stay here and have a sleep. What are you going to do?" she asked, waiting to see if he'd blush again or not.

To her surprise, he walked a few feet away, grabbed the chair at the desk, and dragged it until it was sat just outside her bedroom door. "This is where I'll be, here outside your door, watching over you," he informed her as he sat down.

"What!" she exclaimed, clambering off the bed to reach him. "You can't do that all night. What time does your relief bodyguard turn up?"

"I don't… There isn't another shift," he informed her. "This is a twenty-four hour a day job."

"You are kidding me!" she protested. "Everybody deserves some time off. In fact, I am insisting on it. Right now. There's a perfectly good bed in the other bedroom for you to sleep in."

But he shook his head. "I can't guard you if I'm stuck in a bed."

Didn't that conjure up an interesting image? Him beneath the sheets. She quickly batted it away from her thoughts. "Do you see any marauding fans in this hotel suite?" she demanded, sweeping her hands about in demonstration. "No one is jumping in through the windows or storming the door. Not from where I'm standing. They're all doing what decent people do at this time of night; they're asleep in their beds. And you must be tired after working today, surely you must be," she ended softly, laying a hand on his shoulder. "How about I ordered us some food? A quick snack because I haven't seen you eat properly yet, and then we can get some decent sleep. Leave all the dangerous bits for tomorrow."

Looking up her, he couldn't help likening her to an angel in that moment as his hungry stomach rumbled. "That would be brilliant. Thank you."

"Stage one of our friendship plan," she lightly informed him as she picked up the suite telephone. "What do you fancy?"

That was a leading question. "Erm… steak, or something similar, please," he requested.

Their midnight feast didn't go too badly. As they ate, they shared anecdotes about the people they knew in the music industry, and generally caught up on what they were currently doing.

"Don't know about you but I needed that," Donna commented, sitting back in her seat from her empty plate, feeling fully satisfied.

Beside her, John grinned back. "It was lovely. Thank you."

"From what you've said so far, you must miss being a full-time musician. How come you gave it up?" she asked, sipping from her glass of wine.

He drank from his own glass before answering. "There didn't seem to be any work for me after Koschei died and Jack went solo. I still have friends in the business, of course, but it wasn't the same. The work just dwindled away. Then I happened to help a nightclub owner fight off an assault one night, and he suggested I do this on a permanent basis. One thing led to another so here I am, here with you."

"Sorry. Poor you," she joked, "stuck with me. Although the next place we stay in won't have this level of luxury. We have to make the most of it. You will be pleased to know that I'll be sharing with Rose. You'll get the chance to be as close to her as you like."

Not sure how to react, he wondered, "How come you're not sharing with Martha?"

"Ah," she sighed, thinking he was keen to make a move in Martha's direction too, "sorry, she's going out with Mickey, and getting pretty serious too. She will be sharing with him."

"Lucky man," he commented, taking another sip.

"And lucky her," she felt it fair to say. "They're good together. Is there such a person in your life?"

This question had been inevitable, but its appearance still flummoxed him. "Erm… No. there's no one."

"No one?" She quirked an inquisitive eyebrow. "Then I shall have to help you with that, won't I. If Rose isn't willing, what sort of person should I find for you?"

"You don't have to do that. Honestly, you don't," he spluttered.

"I know I don't," she near whispered, leaning closer, "but that wasn't what I asked. Just tell me who you really want and then we can go to bed."

"Bed!" he squeaked.

But she merely rolled her eyes in exasperation. "I'm not propositioning you; you prawn. I meant separate beds in separate rooms, d'uh! Never mind, you can tell me in the morning. Good night."

"Night Donna," he murmured as she stood up. "Don't worry about the food trolley. I'll wheel outside for them to collect."

At the bedroom door, she stopped and turned to look at him. "Just a quick question: did you remember to bring your pyjamas?"

His eyes went wide in shock. "Why?"

"Nothing. I have spares, if you don't."

That didn't sound too bad. Not until it put the thought of her nightwear into his head. "I came prepared."

"Good to know." With a smirk playing about her lips, she left him with the words, "Sleep tight."