Warning: This contains some swear words.

Summary: The Doctor tries to come clean.

Part 2

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He followed the scent trail she had left down the corridor to the kitchen, and found her rummaging in the fridge, her head firmly inside. "What you doing?" he asked softly.

"Hello!" she shouted out from somewhere inside the fridge contents. "I was feeling peckish. Have we got anything curry flavoured? Ooh look! I'll have that." She emerged grasping a small pot of something yoghurty. "James? How did you get in here? Where..."

He had taken off his glasses by then, and was running his hand through his hair, making it stand up in its usual style. He stepped nearer to her stunned form, needing to comfort her whilst avoiding her right hand. "Are you alright, Donna?"

Her anger swelled through her. "You... Why? Why trick me like that? You bastard! Why do that? I thought... I finally thought someone bloody cared, and you've ruined it!" She lashed out then, but he deftly caught hold of her wrist.

"It wasn't like that! Not at first. I thought you'd recognise me, no problem. But you didn't, and I... I couldn't resist finding out," he meekly told her.

"Prying you mean!" She glared at where he had hold of her, but he didn't let go. "Or was it some sick joke gushing over me like that? And where the bloody hell did you get that accent?"

He retained his hold on that trembling hand. "Yes, I admit I was prying. I was worried about you going out like that. And then they were being mean to you so I wanted to step in, but I couldn't let you land on the floor on your face, could I?" She continued to openly glare at him, angry beyond words. His expression softened, "They were so nice to me for a change, encouraging me to make a play for you..."

She immediately interrupted him. "They did what? Tell me! What did they say?" she demanded.

"Ah, you don't need to know that, do you?" He tried to resist her interrogation.

"Yes I bloody do!" she yelled at him.

"They weren't slagging you off!" He scoffed with a light laugh, "Honest, love. It was me! They were having a go at me."

Her face dropped. "What do you mean? They were taking the mick as you sat there?"

"No! Not in that way. I know they can be rude but they're not that evil... Well, when I say that, they..."

"Doctor! Tell me what they said." Her voice had lost some of its angry edge as she fought with her compassion for him.

He wriggled uncomfortably. "Well, do I have to? They said there was something wrong with me because I hadn't made a move on you."

"Oh, that one!" She looked relieved. "They always say that one. I'm sorry but I know we don't, and I mean us two here," she swivelled a finger back and forth between them, "we don't talk about your sexuality. If it's any consolation I've always assumed you're... Have I upset you? I'm sorry. I'll shut up now and go to bed."

She tried to push passed him, so he tightened his grip on her wrist again. "Where are you going? We need to discuss this," he insisted.

"You think we do?" She gasped in shock. "Are you sure you want to tell me? I'll listen, no problem with that, but I just didn't think you'd want to."

"What exactly do you think I'm going to tell you?" He looked at her blankly. "You don't think I'm gay too, do you?" he asked in a slightly insulted tone.

"It's a possible," she said with a shrug. "The gay blokes I've known have obsessed about some flighty woman or actress and done absolutely nothing about it."

"I am not gay!" he protested. "When I first met you I had only just lost my friend who'd shared my life for two years; I wasn't obsessing!"

"And all that emo stuff as you killed the Racnoss?" she gently asked. "That wasn't normal."

"It was for me! In case you haven't noticed, Donna, I am not a bloke," he pointed out.

"You so are!" she disagreed. "What with your fancy hair gels, the cockerel look, the whole style thing of casual chic going on... Yeah, you're a bloke," she scoffed. "A gay bloke."

"I...," he spluttered, and let go of her with a flourish almost forcing her away. "You don't understand."

She contemplated him. "Yes, you're right, I don't understand. Why don't you tell me; seeing as this is giving you so many problems. And while you're telling me, care to explain that kiss? Was that kiss an experiment? Are you experimenting on me?"

"No! Yes, maybe..." He looked sheepish. "I wanted to find out what it was like to be a human."

"Why? You've done that in the past, so why bother? I thought you said you didn't like being human? All those emotions getting in the way...," she argued.

"They did. But...that was different." He averted his gaze away from her face; the fact it landed on her chest was a complete coincidence.

"In what way? You need to explain yourself. And don't think I haven't forgotten that you deceived me tonight deliberately, mister!" Her words were angry, but the tone had lessened.

"This is embarrassing," he muttered. Her understanding nod encouraged him to continue. "I wanted...," he sighed, "I wanted to know what it would be like as your erm... your boyfriend."

"You what?" she shrieked with laughter. "You went through all of that charade to find that out? Well now I've heard it all." She shook her head in disbelief. "You could have just asked, you prawn!"

"Asked what?" He frowned at her in confusion.

"You could have asked me to pretend with you, gone out somewhere, done some of the things you do on a date," she clarified.

"Would you have kissed me?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"If it was part of the game I suppose I would have," she considered the whole scenario in her head. "Depends how far you wanted to go; and who you were tacking the experience on to."

"Who?" he echoed.

She patted his cheek. "I'm assuming this is all linked to Rose; like the eternal fishing story of the one that got away."

"Donna, why do you always do this?" he huffed in exasperation.

She rapidly stepped away from him. "I'm sorry. I thought you wanted me to... I didn't realise I was offending you. I don't understand what I was doing wrong..."

"Will you stop trying to escape? I'm not offended, you're not doing anything wrong..., and will you stop walking away from me! For goodness sake woman, you are enough to try the patience of a saint." He pleaded with her, "You gave the rare chance tonight of finding out what you and your friends think of me, and I need you to know that I didn't deliberately seek that out. All I meant to do was make sure you were okay."

"By spying on us? Excuse me, but that doesn't come across as healthy. You could have just come with me in the first place," she reasoned.

"But it was a singles night. You were out on the pull," he argued.

"Singles, as in we are all single, you prawn! The only one who was out on the pull was you! I dunno... Martians and their daft ideas," she smiled at him in amusement. "So come on, James Bond, James McCrimmon or whoever you were trying to be; why all the Secret Squirrel stuff? And I want a real answer this time; one that covers the end of this evening."

"Ah!" He surprised her by swivelling and sitting down, facing away from her. "I had my reasons. I was worried you would meet someone."

"So worried you made sure it was you? No, you'll have to explain the logic of that one, Sunshine. Does not compute!" she dry panned.

He gave a wan smile in reply.

"I take it that means this has something to do with those pesky emotions you try to avoid," she deduced. "You could always try telling me through the medium of dance?"

He laughed good and loud then. "Donna Noble, what would I do without you?" he declared, jumping up out of his seat and swirling her around the kitchen in a music-less waltz. "Dancing is perfect."

"Is it?" she gasped out, clearly surprised at his action as she fought to keep up with him, both mentally and physically.

"Oh yes," he replied, smiling broadly at her. He slowly halted their progress around the table, until he was merely holding her closely in his arms. "Definitely." He lifted her chin with one finger and gently kissed her.