A/N: posted without a proper read through - sorry.

Part 11

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It was her phone ringing that woke Donna up. She blindly threw out a hand to grab it in order to answer the call. "Hello," she blearily queried.

"Donna, there you are," the voice of Martha greeted her. "We were worried when you didn't come to dinner last night or showed up for breakfast. Are you alright?"

"I erm… I'm fine," Donna replied, forcing herself to sit up. "I've just woken up," she admitted and only then realised there was someone else in the bed with her. No, she hadn't, had she?! With horror, she gazed at the slow smile plastered across John's face as he snuggled into her side. "What do you know?"

"Not much. Rose told us you met your son last night, but we don't know what happened after that," Martha supplied. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Donna loved the concern her dear friend was showing, but it was also a little bit intrusive in that moment. Should she tell all? "I will be. Had a bit of a cry, you know, and had trouble sleeping but John was here to keep me company." Did a bit more than that, but she wouldn't give out that information just yet. It was a possible tale for later.

"That's good," Martha said with relief. "At least you weren't on your own."

"I'll come down and bring you up to date with things once I've washed and dressed," Donna promised. "See you in a mo. Bye."

"Good morning," John crooned, reaching up to kiss her cheek. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit confused," she admitted, placing the phone down. "Trying to remember everything that happened last night."

"Oh?" He sat up more to half embrace her. "Which bits are you having trouble with?"

"You shouldn't be here," she whispered.

"Ah," he sadly exclaimed, and shifted his body completely away. "Sorry. I didn't intend it to happen. It just sort of did." He swung his legs out, over the edge of the bed as he informed her, "I'll find my pyjama trousers and then go get ready for the day. No need to worry about any of this."

"What do you mean?" she fearfully asked. "And you're naked!" she tacked on as he walked away.

He half turned in the doorway, so as not to offend her by flashing his body. "Before you fret, we didn't have sex nor did I sexually assault you. We didn't do much beyond kiss but no doubt you have questions, so I'll answer them once we are both dressed. Is that okay?"

"Okay," she mumbled.

"Then I'll see you in a few minutes," he said and walked as quickly as his dignity would allow him into his own bathroom.

Once there, he turned the shower on to warm up, and rubbed a hand down his face in horror. What should he do now? Did she remember anything that they'd said and done? Was she going to deny it happened? How would he cope if she gave him the cold shoulder from now on? "Fuck," he despondently repeated to himself as all the possible consequences hit him.

She was blow-drying her hair when he re-entered the lounge fully dressed. He sat himself down near enough to her to offer support, should she need it, but far away enough to avoid being an easy target should she lash out. As he gazed at her reflection in the mirror she was using, it was hard to tell what exactly her current mood was, apart from calm control. Things could go in any direction.

Waiting until she switched the hairdryer off, he announced his willingness to talk. "You had some questions you wanted to ask me."

"Yes, I did." She turned on her seat to regard him. "Why were you in bed with me?"

"Because you invited me in. In fact, you led me in." He'd decided to follow her tone with this conversation and keep things simple.

She tried and failed to find the right words for a moment or two. "I was drunk."

"You were too upset to eat, so the alcohol would have hit you quite quickly," he commented.

"And what about you?"

"I hadn't eaten either. It was quite an emotional night."

Okay. That sounded right to her and dredged up a certain memory. "You mentioned your daughter. So sad about her," she commiserated. "I'm not sure how that led to us kissing."

"These things tend to happen only if you want them to," he admitted. "Do you feel bad about it?"

"I don't know yet." She adjusted the fit of her clothing for a second or two before asking in a small voice, "Did we really do all that snogging stuff in my bed?"

If he thought about it for too long, he'd start having a few physical problems, he suddenly realised, but he would have to risk her reaction in order to think about their actions. "We did. We went as far as we could without actually doing… it."

"Most men wouldn't have stopped there," she noted.

"Most men don't know or don't care about your hatred of sex," he added, to show how much intimacy they had attained. "I also care about your feelings, now, this minute."

"You risked your job for me," she realised.

He nodded in acceptance. "So what do you want me to do now, Donna? Do you want me to behave differently, as if we had never done anything? Or do you want me gone?"

"Gone?" She flinched in horror. "I don't want you to go. But you're not allowed to have a meaningful relationship with me. I'm your client."

"Then I'll respect your wishes," he said, fighting down the bile that wanted to rise up into his throat. "Last night was an alternate universe."

They both stood up, with the intention of heading downstairs, but Donna had one more question burning in her mind. "Was kissing me just a passing fancy?"

His expression softened as he gazed down at her. "Kissing you could never be just a passing fancy for me. One day I hope you will let me prove that, but I understand why you don't believe me."

When he didn't attempt to kiss her but strolled away instead, in self-defence, she felt a familiar pang in her heart. It was regret but she couldn't force herself to grab him. That never went well for her, so she meekly followed him out of the room.

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