Author's Notes: I do not own Doctor Who. That being said, a while ago, I did do a shorter story set in this ficverse called Really Turn Left. I know some of you will have read that so what I've tried to do is keep enough consistency to keep the flow of the story going for people who haven't read it, but make it different enough that it's interesting to anyone who has. Thanks for the reads and reviews as always. Let me know what you think and happy reading!
Things had gone too far.
Donna had been waiting for the perfect moment. She had been waiting to be certain the Doctor was back to himself. It had been some time.
She had failed to mention she was pregnant.
This was it, though. Today was the day and no matter how much dead alien goo she was covered in at the end of it, she was going to tell him she was pregnant. Of course, this was probably going to lead to another fully justified argument about why she hadn't mentioned it earlier. Besides, Casanova had spotted it, the Doctor was bound to sooner or later.
At least she would have the freedom to vomit without hiding.
"Donna!"
"Coming!," said Donna. She put on her leather jacket and walked to the console room. "So, what have you got to show me, Time Boy?"
"Oh, plenty," said the Doctor, taking her hand.
"Shan Shen!," the Doctor announced with his usual flourish as they stepped out of the TARDIS.
It was amazing. Stall after stall, shop after shop.
"So, this whole planet is one big market?," asked Donna.
"Yep," he said popping the 'p.' "Come on."
"Do they have their own credit card?"
"Only you would ask that."
"It just seems like they would."
"Come on."
They walked through the stalls and the Doctor led her over to a beverage stall where he bought them both absurdly foamy drinks.
"Here, you are going to love this. One, two, three-"
They both drank it and were rewarded with foamy mustaches. They laughed.
"Ah!"
"It's lovely," said Donna.
They continued down the alley. The Doctor got stopped, talking to a vendor about some fruit.
"You want to buy shukina?," another seller asked her.
"No, thanks."
She walked further and was spotted by a fortune teller sitting outside her tent.
"Tell your fortune, lady? Your future predicted, your life foretold."
"No, thanks," said Donna.
"Don't you want to know if you're going to be happy?"
Donna smiled. "I am happy."
"You've got red hair. Reading's free for red hair."
"Oh, alright," said Donna.
She went into the tent and sat down across from the woman who started caressing her palms. "You're fascinating. Oh no, but you're good. I can see... a man. The most remarkable man. How did you meet him?"
"Oh, you tell me," said Donna.
"You tell me past. I tell you future. When did your lives cross?"
"It's sort of complicated. I ended up in his spaceship on my wedding day."
Donna heard a clicking noise.
"But what led you to that meeting?"
Donna shook her head. "All sorts of things. But my job, I suppose. It was on Earth... this planet called Earth, miles away. But I had this job as a temp. I was a secretary at this place called H.C. Clements."
She lurched forward, thinking she was back at her desk. Then she went back to herself. "Sorry."
"It's the incense. Just breathe deep. This job of yours. What choices led you there?"
"There was a choice... six months before. The agency offered me this contract with H.C. Clements. There was this other job. My mum knew this man, Jival Chowdry."
Donna remembered the day she had gone to her mum's to borrow the car. Sylvia had tagged along, trying to get her to change her mind, saying Suzette could make the introductions.
"You turned left," said the fortune teller.
Donna flashed back to the Oracle for a second. What had she said?
"What if you had turned right?"
"Let go of my hands," said Donna.
"What if it changes? What if you go right? What if you could still go right?"
She heard the clicking again and all she could see were the indicators on her mum's Peugeot.
"Stop that. What's that? What's that on my back?"
"Make the choice again, Donna Noble, and change your mind. Turn right."
"I'm turning..."
Donna Noble had spent the last few weeks inexplicably ill. She had blamed food poisoning, then flu and then decided she must be dying. It wasn't helping her get in good at her new job, but Mister Chowdry had made her his personal assistant anyway.
"I'm what?!," Donna spat.
The doctor looked flummoxed. "You're-"
"Pregnant?! How can I be pregnant?!"
"Well-"
"Are you sure?"
"Mrs. Noble-"
"Ms. Miss!"
"Oh."
"Oh, what? You automatically assume I'm some sort of tart-"
"No, I never said-"
"How am I pregnant?!"
The doctor just stood there, staring at her.
Donna eventually got out of there with a prescription for antenatal vitamins and back to her mum's car. She sat down, put her head against the steering wheel and began sobbing.
Telling her family was something that Donna was not looking forward to.
"You're what?!," Sylvia exclaimed.
They were all gathered in the kitchen. Donna had just come out with it, no point in delaying.
Donna rolled her eyes. "I thought I was pretty clear."
Geoffrey and Wilf exchanged glances.
"Who's the father?"
Here was the part Donna planned on flat out lying about. She wasn't about to admit she had no idea. "It doesn't matter. He's not in the picture."
"You're not keeping it, are you?"
Donna felt her face turn red. "Of course I'm keeping her, Mum! I'm not some teenager."
"You aren't married, either."
"Oh, I suppose I should just go to a home for unwed mothers then drop her off at the foundling hospital."
"Lots of women have babies on their own these days," Wilf tried to add helpfully.
"Do you think Donna can handle a baby on her own? She's never even had a permanent job!"
"Well, she has one now," said Geoffrey. "Plus, she's not entirely on her own, is she? We'll help you, sweetheart."
Donna smiled. "Thanks, Dad."
"Oh, I'm expected to raise a baby now," said Sylvia.
Donna fumed. "I'm raising her. You don't have to help if you don't want to."
Geoffrey put his hand over Sylvia's. "Don't be silly. Of course we'll help."
"That's right, Donna. We're here for you," said Wilf.
Sylvia tsked. "What am I going to tell the girls?"
"Here, let me get that," said Geoffrey taking the box from Donna.
"Dad, it wasn't that heavy. I was fine."
"No, no. We can't have you overexerting yourself."
It was official. Donna was regressing. She was moving back in with her parents and grandfather. It had been her father's suggestion, just while the baby was small, he assured her. It would be easier for Donna to manage for a while without having to worry about a flat and driving the baby round before she went to work and collecting her at the end of the day.
"I'm fine, Dad."
"No, miss. You have precious cargo there."
Donna followed her dad into the bedroom. The cot was already set up and waiting. A collection of baby things was already pushed to the other side.
"I'm sorry, Dad."
Geoffrey turned to look at her. "What are you sorry for?"
"Just...everything." Donna stared down at her protruding stomach.
"Well, don't be!," said Geoffrey. "I know this isn't what you had planned for yourself and it wouldn't be my choice, either, but that's only because I'd like to see you settled with someone. You don't need to be sorry. I'm very happy to be having a grandchild and just as happy to help you."
"It's just... I feel like I should have things together by now."
"You'll get there," said Geoffrey.
There was a doorbell.
"Go on. See who that is," said Geoffrey.
Donna went downstairs and opened the door and found Alex Wroughton.
"Alex?"
"Hi."
She was surprised to see her oldest friend from childhood. He didn't look as if he was doing so bad. He was looking fit and Donna knew his sunglasses had to have cost a hundred pounds. She was used to tallying up such things on men, but not Alex. "What are you doing here? Your mum said you were abroad."
"I'm visiting. I thought I'd come by and see you."
"Come by and see the massive train wreck, you mean?"
"No, you look wonderful," said Alex. "I would ask you for a pint, but I don't know, what's the pregnant equivalent of a pint?"
"We eat," said Donna, grabbing her bag off the table in the hall. "We eat a lot."
Donna walked with Alex down to the pub where he had a pint and ate some chips. She had the rest of his chips, some fish, the garlic mushrooms and a jacket potato.
"Is your mum still starving you?," asked Alex.
"I'm starving them more like, taking all the food in the house," said Donna. "I warned you."
"No, it's fine."
Donna got in her bag. "Here, let me pay."
"Don't you dare," said Alex. "My treat."
Donna put her bag away. "I'm the talk of the neighborhood, you know."
"I had heard."
"I bet. You're taking a risk being seen with me. They're liable to think you're the father."
"Right..." said Alex.
Donna rolled her eyes. "One night stand. Okay?"
"I didn't say anything." He paused. "So, you're staying at home?"
"Yes, I know. It's pathetic."
"No, I mean, you've got other things to think about."
"So, enough about my scandal ridden life, what have you been up to?"
Alex shrugged. "Just work. Planes, paperwork."
"No jetting off the exotic lands?"
"Not really."
"How long are you home for?"
"A few days. I might be back for Christmas."
"You might be in luck then. I'm due right around then. The Foreign Office keeps you busy."
"And where are you at now?"
"It's a copy shop. Mum's friend helped me get the job, just in time, too. Nobody would have hired a pregnant temp. I can't stay on leave that long since I haven't been there that long. Mister Chowdry was pretty clear on that."
"Can't you get allowance from the government?"
"I can, but the point is that I finally have a permanent job. I can't go and lose it straight away. What kind of mum would that make me?"
"You're going to be a great mum," said Alex. He picked up his pint. "To Donna Noble."
Donna rolled her eyes.
"Are you going to eat that whole packet?," asked Sylvia.
Donna looked down at the packet of Jelly Babies feeling somewhat guilty. "Sorry, did you want some?"
"You won't be able to blame all the weight on the baby, you know."
Donna closed her eyes. "Mum, could we not do this? It's Christmas and my back hurts, I don't feel well-"
"You should have thought of that before you got pregnant. How fitting to have an unwed mother with us on Christmas Eve. This mysterious father, should I plan on him dropping by?"
Donna spun around and walked away. She marched to the door and got her coat.
She walked. She walked a really long time, finally realizing that it wasn't a great idea.
That's when the Christmas Star started shooting from the sky. She ducked for cover along with the rest of the crowds in the streets until it finally stopped.
She stopped to sort out where she was and found that she was near the offices of H.C. Clements, the place where she almost took the job last summer. That seemed like a lifetime ago. She noticed a commotion with soldiers wearing red berets standing around.
As she walked closer, she saw a gurney being rolled out.
"He's dead, sir. The Doctor's dead," said one of the soldiers standing by her.
A hand with long, slender fingers fell out from under the sheet along with a cylindrical silver object she didn't recognize. The baby punched inside her and she turned away, feeling ill.
That's when she ran into the blonde.
"What happened? What did they find? I'm sorry, but did they find someone?"
"I don't know," said Donna, trying to collect herself. "Bloke called the Doctor or something."
"Where is he?"
"They took him away, he's dead."
The woman didn't say anything.
"I'm sorry," said Donna, "did you know him? Could have been anyone, they didn't say his name."
"I came so far," said the woman. She turned and stared at Donna. "What's your name?"
"Donna. And you?"
"I'm just passing by..."
"Why do you keep staring at my back? Is there something on my back?"
Donna groaned and realized she was having a contraction.
"Oh, God. I'm sorry, I'm having a baby. Do you have a mobile I could-" Donna looked up. The woman was gone. "Oh, right, then. That's polite."
Donna walked back to the barricade. She waved at the soldier. He walked over.
"I'm sorry, I really am, I know you're busy, but could I borrow a phone or something? I just went into labor."
"Yes, ma'am. Ross!"
Donna watched as a young, baby-faced soldier hurried over.
"Ross, take this woman to hospital. Royal Hope Hospital isn't far from here."
"Yes, sir. Come this way, ma'am."
Ross drove her and Donna was settled into a room. She was examined by one doctor and midwife, then waited.
"Mrs. Noble?"
"Uh, Ms.," groaned Donna. "Forget it. Whatever."
She looked up to see a nice young woman in a lab coat. "I'm Martha Jones. I'm a medical student on my obstetrics rotation. Doctor McGann asked me to come sit with you."
"Come sit with me?"
"Yes, she said you didn't want to call anyone. Are you sure?"
Donna shook her head. "Please. I don't want my mum here, I'd rather spare my father and grandfather all this fun."
Martha smiled and sat down. "So, no dad coming then?"
"No, no dad coming," said Donna. Her mind flashed back to the hand coming out from under the sheet. "You have got to have better things to do than just sitting with me."
"No, it's fine. I still need to assist on another birth before I finish my rotation. I don't mind at all."
"Still, you must have family."
"My family's a little... volatile right now."
"Know the feeling..." said Donna. She would have smiled, were it not for another contraction starting. She screamed.
"Just try to breathe through it, Donna," said Martha.
"I AM BREATHING!"
"Okay..." said Martha.
A few hours later, Donna found herself gazing down at her new baby. She was gorgeous and ginger, which Donna thought was working nicely for her, but she couldn't get over the eyes. She had seen those eyes in her dreams, gleaming at her.
"You're perfect, that's what you are," said Donna. She took the baby girl's tiny fist in her hand. "You know what? I'm never going to tell you you're not, because I know you always will be."
The baby stared at her.
"I'm your mummy. Did you know that?" She sighed. "Okay, a few things. We live with my parents and grandfather and my mum is a pain. Also, not a clue who your dad is, sorry about that, but judging by you, he wasn't bad-looking, so we've got that going for us."
The baby cooed.
"I love you," said Donna. "And nothing bad is ever, ever going to happen to you because I won't let it. I'm going to take care of you."
Donna followed the baby's gaze out the window to the sky full of stars.
"Good morning," said Martha. She peered over at the baby in the cot. "How are we?"
"We are great," said Donna.
"Just here to give her the last little check before we send you home," said Martha. She got the baby's chart as Donna sat on the bed.
"They told me about the lower body temperature thing," said Donna.
"Yeah, no cause for concern," said Martha. "Sometimes it means a thyroid problem, but she doesn't have any other signs of that. Some people are just born with one. Just remember that when she's got a temperature higher than this, that will be a fever, even though it's normal for the rest of us."
Smiling at the baby, she took out her stethoscope and put it to the baby's chest. She frowned as she moved right to left.
"Is everything alright?," asked Donna, not liking the frown.
"Yeah, it's fine," said Martha. "She's an active little one, isn't she? Attentive."
Donna smiled. "Yeah."
"Have you decided what to call her?"
"Zara."
"She was crawling!," Donna shouted.
Mister Chowdry sighed. "Now, come on, Donna, we can go downstairs and have a chat. There's no need for a scene-"
"Oh, I'll make a scene, all right. Right in front of a tribunal and the first thing I'm going to say is wandering hands!"
"Now, come on Donna - you know what it's been like for the past few months, ever since that Christmas thing! Half my contracts were on the other side of the river and the Thames is still closed off. Look, I can't deliver. I'm losing a fortune. You have been in and out with one thing after another-"
"I had a baby! And my dad died!," Donna shouted.
"And the sitter problems?"
"My baby was crawling, she panicked!"
"Your baby's not old enough to crawl."
"Oh, child expert, are you now? I told you my baby is clever! Well, sack one of this lot! Sack Cliff! He just sits there! Don't know what he does all day, sorry Cliff. Actually, I'm not sorry - what do you do all day?"
The whole office shook as they heard an explosion. The rest of the office ran to the windows as Donna looked at her notice.
"Who typed this? I'm your PA! Did you get someone else to type this?" She looked up. "Beatrice!"
Donna drove home and walked into the house holding her box of office supplies and personal items. She found Zara waiting in her walker at the door.
Donna smiled. "Hi, beautiful girl. Were you waiting for me?"
Donna put down her bag and the box. She plucked Zara from the chair.
"Mummy missed you, yes, she did," she said giving her a kiss. "Gramps? What are you doing? Why's she out here on her own?"
Donna walked back to the sitting room to find Wilf staring at the news about the hospital.
"You, too?"
"The hospital, it just vanished."
"Well, Zara might have vanished."
"I'm trying to listen."
Donna looked at Zara. "Guess what? We're spending all tomorrow together. Maybe more."
Zara smiled in delight.
"Yeah, don't get too excited," said Donna.
"Why's that then?," asked Sylvia.
Donna held her breath. "I got sacked."
"Oh," said Sylvia. She looked at the box. "Take that, did you?"
Wilf was still watching the telly as Sylvia went through the box.
The only survivor was on telly giving his account. "There were... rhinos... in black leather..."
"Rhinos could be aliens," said Wilf.
"Oh, Grandad, come on."
"At least you got a hole punch," said Sylvia. "And a raffle ticket."
"Yeah, well they can keep the raffle ticket," said Donna. "I wouldn't take a penny off that man."
Wilf looked at them. "Honestly, you two, there's aliens on the news. They took that hospital all the way to the moon and you're banging on about raffle tickets."
"Don't be daft, Gramps. It wasn't the moon, it couldn't be."
"Yes, well, I'm telling you, it's getting worse. These past few years, it's like, all of a sudden, they suddenly know all about us and... there's keen eyes up there and they're not friendly," said Wilf.
"Gramps, would you just stop it with that? You're going to frighten Zara with all your alien talk," said Donna.
"She doesn't understand," said Sylvia.
Zara looked offended.
"She understands more than you think," said Donna. "I keep telling you she's clever."
"Must have gotten that from her dad," Sylvia mumbled.
Donna was about to snap back, but she got another flash of those eyes and someone shouting, "Molto bene!" She looked back at Zara who was grabbing at Donna's shirt.
"Alright," said Donna, sitting down in a chair. "I know what that means."
She undid the buttons and the nursing bra and Zara eagerly latched on.
"Martha Jones..." said the last survivor of the hospital. "She gave me the last oxygen tank and she died."
"Oh, no," said Donna. She looked at her family. "She was the doctor that helped deliver Zara."
No one spoke as the newscaster went on.
Donna looked at Sylvia. "You're taking this well. Thought you'd have hit the roof by now."
"I'm just tired, Donna, what with your father and everything. To be honest, I've given up on you."
Donna looked away, back down at Zara. Zara stared at her with those brilliant brown eyes and Donna knew that her baby had absolute faith in her.
"What's for tea?," asked Donna.
"I've got nothing in," said Sylvia.
"I'll get chips," said Donna. "Fish and chips, eh?"
Donna packed up Zara in the pram and pushed her along down the road to the chip shop. Zara was babbling from the front.
"Are you trying to say something, miss?," asked Donna. "Clever girl. I know you've got a lot to say. God knows I do. What if your dad was as big a talker as me? That's a scary thought."
There was a flash of light and a buzz of electricity from an alleyway. Donna stopped as a woman ran into the street.
"Are you alright?," asked Donna. "Was that fireworks or...?"
She then realized it was the blonde from Christmas Eve.
"Wooh. I dunno. I was just walking along. Weird."
"You're the one. Christmas Eve. I met you in town."
Zara cooed. Donna pulled the pram back closer towards her as the woman peered inside.
"Right, Donna, wasn't it?," she asked looking at Zara.
"What was your name again?," asked Donna.
"Well, bit of a coincidence," said the woman. She stood straight up to look at Donna. "Gorgeous baby. Great eyes."
"You're doing it again."
"Doing what?"
"Looking behind my back! Everybody gets behind my back, then I get home and there's nothing there! What is it?"
"What sort of people?"
"People on the street, strangers, I don't know..." Donna thought she could hear a hissing. She thought she could almost reach whatever it was. "Do you see? Now I'm doing it!"
"What are you doing for Christmas?"
"What am I what?"
"Next Christmas. Any plans?"
"I don't know. That's ages away."
"You should get out of town. Don't stay in London. You and your family, just leave the city."
"What for?"
"Nice hotel. Christmas break."
"Can't afford it."
"But you have the raffle ticket."
"How do you know about that?"
"First prize, luxury weekend break. Use it, Donna Noble."
"Why don't you tell me your name?," asked Donna.
The woman didn't answer. Donna tightened her grip on the pram. "I think you should leave me alone."
She pushed the pram past the woman.
"Don't know what her game is, Zara."
"Zara Christmas!"
Donna woke up next to the baby in the quite crowded luxury suite she was sharing with her family.
"And Zara birthday," Donna added with a smile, giving her baby a kiss on the cheek.
"What is she babbling on for?," asked Sylvia.
"She's excited!," said Donna. "It's her very first Christmas and her very first birthday!"
Zara clapped her little hands in glee.
"Well, I'm not getting up," said Sylvia. "I never get up before ten on Christmas."
"We know," said Donna. She walked past Wilf on the sofa. "How's the sofa?"
"We could have paid for another room, you know," said Wilf.
Donna got up and started getting her and the baby ready. She was rather pleased with the way this was going. Her mum was actually tolerable and it was special for Zara's birthday. She had presents ready and the whole thing was doing her good. She was knackered, having spent most of the holidays as temporary help at two different shops earning more money for the family and especially for the baby's first birthday and Christmas. When she got back to London, she could start looking for secretarial work again and she had better get it because she had her eye on some good nursery schools. There was a knock at the door.
"Door!," said Zara.
"Good girl!," said Donna. "Could you get it? That'll be breakfast! Croissants!"
Wilf grumbled and got the door. "Yeah, alright, come in, my darling. Grub's up!" He looked at the Spanish room service waitress as she pushed a cart into the room. "Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas, sir!"
"Feliz Navidad!," Zara called from the bathroom.
"Where did she learn that?," asked Sylvia.
"I told you, this girl is clever," said Donna. "Anyway, I thought, nice early breakfast and then we'll go for a walk. People always say at Christmas, 'oh, we all went for a walk.' I've always wanted to do that."
"Have you seen this?," asked Sylvia.
"So, walk first, presents and cake later!" Donna turned to see the waitress staring at her.
"Tienes algo en tu espalda."
"What?," asked Donna.
"Your back!," added Zara.
"Donna, come and see this," said Sylvia.
"Tienes algo en tu espalda!"
The waitress ran out. Donna picked up Zara and went to see the telly.
The Titanic was heading for Buckingham Palace.
The newsreader spoke. "The object is falling on Central London. Repeat: this is not a hoax. A replica of the Titanic has fallen out of the sky and it's heading for Buckingham Palace."
Donna shook her head. "I don't get it. Is it like the sequel?"
The Titanic was mere feet above the palace and crashed in. The screen turned to white. Sylvia anxiously changed the channels.
"They're gone! They're all gone! All of them," said Sylvia.
"Well, don't be daft. I mean, the Titanic," said Donna.
"Oh, oh... God rest their souls," said Wilf.
Donna looked and saw her grandfather was staring out the window. She couldn't believe what she was seeing, a mushroom cloud.
They went out on the front lawn of the hotel. All the guests and staff were out there in disbelief at what they were seeing.
Zara pointed at the cloud and looked back at Donna anxiously.
"I know, baby, I know." She kissed her on the top of the head. "It's all going to be alright."
Wilfred was in shock. "I was supposed to be out there selling papers. I should have been there, we all should. We'd be dead."
"That's everyone. Every single person we know. The whole city," said Sylvia.
"Stop, Mum," said Donna. She didn't want Zara getting more upset.
"But it is, it's gone! London's gone!"
"If you hadn't won that raffle..."
Donna looked back to see the Spanish Maid still pointing at her back.
A/N: Okay, the Casanova thing is another story called "The Count and Countess di TARDIS" which you can read only if you want. I just didn't want to just type up the whole thing again. Now, is Zara a plot hole? I don't know, I think the original episode is full of plot holes, so I feel free to take some liberties. Anyway, reviews are like bug spray that kills Time Beetles. Yeah, that one sucked more.