A/N: dedicated to Shivver for her encouragement.

Part 7

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As she watched John anxiously pace backwards and forwards, checking items as he went, Donna continued to think there was something deeper than pride in your job affecting his actions. But to actually ask him without seeming to delight in his past trauma? This would need careful handling.

"Is there anything different I should be doing?" she tried to ask helpfully.

"No. Just go about your business in the normal way." He checked the window in her dressing room for the umpteenth time as he replied, "I can do my job better that way."

"It looks exhausting," she noted. "Can't you have a tiny break and come have a coffee or something with us?"

"No time for relaxing," he snapped. "That's when you are most vulnerable."

"Might as well put me in a see-through bullet proof box at this rate," she commented. "Come on, John. Terrorists must have tea breaks too."

"You go on ahead. Don't let me stop you getting a drink."

He flinched when she suddenly placed a hand on his arm to halt his movements. "I'd be breaking stage three of our friendship plan if I did that," she gently pointed out. "Plus, I hear there might be some doughnuts I can use to feed you with."

Her concerned smile calmed his worried thoughts. "Alright. I'll come to make sure you stay safe."

"My hero," she joked, but there was hardly any humour in her words this time. Not like there usually was. "I bet you've been able to save loads of people."

"Not always," he murmured, thinking she hadn't heard.

It would take for them to be somewhere completely safe and detached from the moment for him to open up about his past, so she quietly resolved to be the listening ear he needed when the time was right. Instead, she took his hand and started to lead him away as she mused, "You know, I've been thinking. I bet you would feel happier if you were able to be closer in order to protect me. Perhaps do the full bodyguard bit onstage."

"I would," he readily agreed, "but that isn't possible."

"Isn't it?" She grinned mischievously at him. "Not even for a seasoned musician like yourself?"

"I… I don't play anymore," he blustered.

"Come off it! You must miss playing your guitar in front of an audience and would love to see if it still felt the same."

"Well, yes, I do," he reluctantly agreed.

"And I bet you could still play bass guitar with your eyes shut, it's that natural," she argued, "which would leave your other senses able to keep a decent lookout."

For a moment she thought he'd cave and agree to her scheme, but he inevitably shook his head in denial. "A lovely thought. Thank you, Donna but I'm not paid to prance about on stage anymore."

That prancing about had earned him a considerable living, once upon a time. "Never mind. Worth a thought," she pleasantly assured him, "if the need ever arose."

But his wistful expression had not escaped her attention. A little word in private with Mickey might be on the cards.

"What is he doing?" Martha pondered as she sat herself down next to Donna and took a sip of her hot coffee. "Lost something in particular?"

"Whatever it is, he won't find it in there," Donna replied. "To be honest, he's on extra alert because a man was acting suspiciously outside when we arrived."

Martha continued to watch John examine the perimeter of the room they were sat in. "Sorry you've got to go through all this. When do you think this will be all over?"

"When John dies from boredom or old age, at this rate," Donna answered. "I have no idea how long these threats will last. It could be months, he tells me, before they catch the culprit."

"That's grim." Martha suitably winced. "He certainly doesn't look like the usual beefy bodyguards we get. Do you think he can fight someone off if you're attacked?"

"I'm hoping I never have to find out, but he should be up to the job. He's been very thorough so far."

"Here, you've not got a thing for him, have you?" Martha teased, with a nudge of her shoulder.

"Not you too," Donna sighed. "I've had Rose on at me, partly because I'm sure she's got her eye on him."

"Can't say I blame her," Martha quietly agreed. "He must brighten your day."

"Well…" It struck Donna that it was completely wrong to continue watching him in that way. "We've had a good laugh together."

"Oh?"

"Not like that!" Donna defended their actions, feeling her cheeks blaze. "We're friends."

"A bit quick to say you're friends, surely," Martha commented. "You've only known him a couple of days."

"And yet that's long enough for you to say I have other ideas about him," Donna reasoned.

But Martha shrugged, unrepentant. "Sexual attraction is fairly instantaneous, but proper friendship takes a while to develop."

"Good job I'm not after him for sex then," Donna retorted, and of course that was the precise moment John lifted his head to look directly at them. She immediately gave him an embarrassed little wave.

What she didn't need was Martha whispering, "Just think, you could be friends AND with benefits. But if you don't want him, send him my way."

"Martha! You've got Mickey. Behave."

Right on cue, Mickey sauntered in and sat himself down beside Martha. Seeing their shared look, he immediately demanded, "What have I done wrong now?"

"Nothing, love," Donna said as she got up to give them some privacy. "Just been the same old gorgeous you."

His eyes narrowed. "What are you after? You must be after something from me if you are giving out compliments."

"Well, since you've brought it up, I might have a small favour to ask." She then flicked her gaze meaningfully in John's direction. "I know a talented musician in need of a gig…"