Inspired by a prompt on tumblr: "Imagine your OTP giggling literally every time they make eye contact."

Serene

The Opera Company of Duria most one of the galaxy's most renowned and acclaimed. Grand scenery, effects, soaring orchestrations, and of course the vocal talent, it was the highest level of the art form in thirty solar systems. To experience a live production was said to move people on a spiritual level. People waited decades to see a show, and some never got the opportunity, having to make do with recordings and broadcasts.

The current production was from an ancient text from a neighboring planet, involving a character who could yield fire using her magnificent voice. Usually, companies used a light to represent the fire, or perhaps a dancer dressed in bright reds, oranges, and yellows. The Opera Company of Duria would not use such common practices, of course. They had a real fire floating across the stage, seemingly lit with nothing to fuel it. It danced and waved, shrinking and growing as the soprano's voice carried over to the far reaches of the audience.

It was rather spectacular to behold, and it was with great misfortune that during the height of the third act's drama, when all was silent and the fire created the room's sole source of illumination, did a human woman's giggle echo throughout the large room.

The patrons sitting around the woman glared, the mood completely spoiled for them. Next to her, a man who looked human (or did she look like a Time Lady?) nudged her, mortified at the glances he was getting.

"Donna…" the Doctor hissed.

Her head dropped forward, Donna Noble forced herself to behave. She was in the middle of an amazing experience that humanity wouldn't be aware of for another two thousand years (from her twenty-first century perspective). She knew she should focus on the moment and be awed. It could have been a very nice experience; even she, who cared not a thing for opera, had been impressed to a point. But that skinny spaceman had to go and ruin it.

"You started it," she snapped back, knowing better than to look up at him.

"Me? What did I do?" he asked.

"You and your questions about how hot that flame was…"

"Well, you're the one who mentioned the marshmallows," he returned and then he froze for a moment.

Donna still didn't look up at him, but felt him start to shake with barely-contained chuckles. Donna smirked in triumph; and he'd dared chastise her for acting inappropriately.

But then she made the fatal mistake of looking over at him. His hand was over his mouth, and his eyes were nearly squeezed shut. She thought she saw them shift toward her, and she felt a burst of laughter building in her chest. Why was it you had to laugh the hardest when you shouldn't be laughing at all?

Donna coughed in an attempt to release something, but it just made the Doctor shake harder. All around them, crowd stared at them, both mystified and outraged these visitors weren't getting the beauty.

The Doctor managed to compose himself. He cleared his throat, and without a word to Donna, he held his head up higher, determined to focus on the soprano as she started to sing again, the fire turned a brighter shade of blue.

Donna took a deep breath herself to compose herself. She stared at the fire. It was a very distinct color, reminding her of the sonic screwdriver.

Instantly, she looked over at the Doctor, seeing amazement and awe on his face. He was like a nine-hundred-year-old kid. His lips were moving, and Donna could practically hear whatever it was he was mumbling. Most likely something about calculations and physics. Her mouth started to twitch upward.

It was at that moment, he felt her gaze. Their eyes met, and before Donna could stop herself, a quick snort escaped her mouth. The Doctor grinned cheekily and then started to fall victim too. What was with them? All she could hear was that goofball's voice in her head, and it just made her want to laugh harder. The audience started to round on her again, clearly ready to boot them both out. It was then she just decided to give up.

"Oi, this is not helping," she muttered and quickly stood to leave. She pushed herself toward the exit, muttering apologies to the glowers cast in her direction.

It was best she leave before things got worse, and they were chased out by the angry natives. That had happened plenty of times before, and she didn't want to be added to another planet's list of banned visitors.

In her mind's eye, she could just envision the Doctor standing up to whatever the leading Durian government looked like, his hands outstretched and his voice high-pitched, pleading however he could to let them live. She started to laugh again, so amused by how energetic and expressive he got. She tried to walk faster, that fire's blue light making the aliens seem even more foreign and angrier. But she wasn't thinking about that. Her mind drifted toward the last time they were on a new planet during some big thing, and the wind was so strong, it lifted the Doctor's trench coat upside down, making all sorts of random things fall out.

She began to laugh harder when she finally reached the lobby, just as fancy and ostentatious as any other opera building she'd imagined. Her laughter echoed off of the ornate walls and twinkling chandeliers, and she was half-afraid it would be brought into the large hall she'd just left, a human cackle mixed in with the serene music. It was so absurd, she giggled all over again.

"What was that?"

She turned to see the Doctor approaching. He was trying to look scandalized but Donna could see the twinkle in his eye.

She smirked. "You were making me laugh."

"I was not!"

"You with your mumbling and stuff," she said and crossed her arms over her chest. "I couldn't even look at you!"

He paused and then blinked. "They didn't see too pleased with our laughter, did they?"

"No!" Donna added. "We're not classy enough for the opera."

He turned back. "The fire was fascinating, wasn't it? I wonder how they suspended it. And what fueled it? They'd have to use a gas…" Donna's laughter shushed him. "What?"

"Just enjoy it," she commented and then cast a wary glance toward the entrance. "Although I doubt they'll let us back in."

"And you're dangerous to have around, Donna Noble," the Doctor countered.

"Oi!"

"You and your marshmallows."

She grinned. "I bet that flame would toast them up real quick."

He shook his head, not at all displeased. After a beat his shoulders shrugged. "Did you get any serenity? They say that opera is supposed to be life-changing."

Donna arched an incredulous eyebrow. "I had a spiritual experience at a West Ham match when I was a kid." She cast a dismissive glance back to the doors. "That's not really my thing. But thanks for the effort."

The Doctor shrugged. "I'd prefer watching the first live performance of The Magic Flute."

Donna stood on her toes. "Pa-pa-pa…" she twirled.

Grinning, the Doctor took a step toward the door and offered his hand. ""To the TARDIS?"

Donna nodded. "To the TARDIS."