Fandom: Doctor Who/Broadchurch

Characters: Donna/Alec Hardy, OCs

Warning: this contains another sex scene albeit a heavily edited one! Just close your eyes near the end of the first part. But at least it doesn't contain spoilers for Broadchurch!

Summary: In a sequel to The Fourth Cut Hurts Less, Donna extends her friendship as she waits for her own reward.

Disclaimer: when they shared out the ownership honours I didn't get a look in.

A/N: this time I thought I'd try and get sponsorship from a few shops since Cadburys didn't offer in the past.

The Fifth Cut Is Cautious

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"Now about this baby…" Hardy almost purred as his voice dropped seductively lower. "Don't you think we ought to get our act together and make it happen?"

"If you think we should," Donna agreed as his lips moved sensually against her mouth. In fact she'd have practically agreed to anything he proposed in that instance, so distracted was she.

"Name your place. Do you fancy here on the kitchen table, we could use your settee, or a return to the bed, since we haven't christened it yet?" he murmured next to her skin.

"What story do you think works best when we tell our future child where they were conceived? And do we name them like Posh and Becks did? Hello, this is our child Ikea, and our other child Harrods," she joked.

"We could get away with it if the furniture came from John Lewis," he countered, still pressing his body up against her. "At this rate I won't care if it's Greggs the Bakery. Get your knickers off!"

"Do you know what? You say the sexiest things," she tried to gripe.

"I also do them, if you'd let me show you." He grinned wickedly.

She grinned just as wantonly back at him. "In that case I choose crisp Egyptian cotton sheets over other soft furnishings, Thomas."

He allowed her to pull away from him and take hold of his hand possessively to lead him back to the bedroom. Without saying a word, they weaved a spell over each other as they tried to seductively remove every item of clothing. It took much self-control not to laugh whilst performing but to enjoy the show being offered as their garments were slowly peeled off. The only sound was their breathing, heavy with anticipation and arousal, as the duvet was pulled back to allow entry into the bed. They didn't get much further than that because the need to reclaim flesh overwhelmed them, and they hungrily lunged at each other to kiss deeply.

Donna instantly missed Hardy's mouth when he relinquished his possessive hold and trailed kisses down her body; stopping to nip and suck her breasts.

That was when a new way of rewarding her entered his mind, and he moved his head lower to kiss over her hip.

"What are you doing…?" she started to ask, but shut up when hot breath blew onto her flesh, intensifying the experience. Eagerly she awaited his next move, and he didn't disappoint.

"It's called loving you," he crooned as he eased forward. "You really are beautiful."

"Geroff! You're just saying that because I might let you go further," she chided him self-consciously.

In answer, he moved back over her body in order to kiss his way up her neck. "It's true! And am I going to? Will you allow me to go further?" he wondered. "You know you want me," he insisted as he undulated against her body.

She tried to grimace, but it didn't work. "Yes," she panted. "You might be able to persuade me." Contrary to her words, her hands worked their way down from his shoulders to knead his bum and press him closer in invitation.

It had the desired effect, and they groaned at the expected delight.

There was no other way of describing the sensation of making love to Donna; she was bloody fantastic. But those weren't the words that raced through Hardy's mind. Instead he thought, 'I love you. Marry me!' much to his surprise. Was it too soon to even make such a declaration? Probably. And doing so might scare her off.

They were both panting from the exertion as they goofily smiled at each other. Then they were kissing again, unable to refrain from expressing their blossoming love for one another.

Hardy was pleased when she coyly smiled at him and asked, "If this doesn't work successfully this time, will you come back and try again?"

"Try stopping me," he reassured her willingly. "I'd come back whatever happens."

She happily snuggled up to him as their bodies calmed down, and lovingly traced her fingertips along his jawline. "I hope the baby has your eyes," she whispered.

"What these googly things? No, you don't want that. I'd much rather they had your beautiful eyes, your soft skin…" He placed a kiss on her shoulder. "Your gorgeous freckles," he muttered as he sucked in an earlobe. "And most of all, your vibrant hair."

She snorted her scorn. "I don't hear much of you in all that. They'd be bug ugly if they looked like me. No, I want them to be good looking like you."

"Then we seem to have a stalemate," he pointed out. "Because I want them to take after you, and you seem to want the opposite."

"Too right I do!" she agreed.

"Then we can only hope we get a happy combination." He sighed with a satisfied huff.

She kissed the tip of his nose. "If we get a baby, any baby, I will be extremely happy, no matter what they look like," she enthused. "So I don't really know what we are arguing about."

"Neither do I," he laughed. "When will we know by?"

"Very soon, Thomas. By next weekend, I should think."

He positively beamed back at her. "I can hardly wait."

True to her word, Donna had a car ready and waiting to take Hardy back to Broadchurch by the end of the afternoon so that he could go on his shift; and they parted reluctantly. It was becoming increasingly difficult to separate when their time was up, but they eagerly made arrangements to meet up again as soon as possible.

When her phone rang on Thursday evening, Donna had expected it to be Hardy contacting her, since he tended to phone her late, but to her surprise it wasn't him at all.

Recognising the number, she cautiously answered, "Hello."

There was a tearful sob on the other end of the line before Bethany's voice could be heard loud and clear. "Donna, Mum knows I've been talking to you."

"That's okay; she should know," Donna assured her. "It wouldn't be right to keep our friendship a secret."

"But she said it wasn't right that we keep phoning each other up every day. She made it sound like you doing this is a bit creepy, and she told me that adults don't normally talk to teenagers unless they are after something," Bethany continued.

A cold chill ran through her. "What did you tell her after that?" Donna wondered. This could be the end of this little friendship when it was doing so well.

"That you really care; not just because you are kind but you said good friends look after each other's children," came the weepy answer.

"That's true, I did say that," Donna readily agreed. "How did your mum take it?"

There was another sob. "She demanded to know who you are friends with, since she doesn't know you from Adam. So I told her you know Dad quite well, and then she… she said that Dad… you might have been there with him when Dad almost died recently." A stricken pause followed. "Did he almost die, Donna?! Is that true?"

Oh dear! Why hadn't the woman told her daughter this before now? "I don't want you to get yourself all upset, love, but yes, he came pretty close to it by all accounts. He was very ill until they gave him a pacemaker to control his heart. Didn't your mum tell you any of this?"

"No," Bethany brokenly admitted.

How she wished she could reach through the phone and hug the girl. "Bethany, love, I really think you should see your dad and talk this over with him; learn the absolute truth, from the horse's mouth as it were," Donna tried to persuade her gently. "It doesn't have to be at home, you know. It could be here, down there in Broadchurch, or anywhere you like in between."

The next words from Bethany threatened to rip Donna's heart out; the girl sounded so lost.

Bethany pathetically asked, "Do you think he'd want to see me?"

Would he? Yes he would! "I think he might be persuaded, if we offer him some food," Donna trilled brightly to ease some of the tension. "Generally works for me."

Thankfully there was a small laugh on the other end of the line. "Can you organise me a time to see him, please, Donna?"

"Let me just grab a pen and we'll set that up," she promised in return. "Now, when are you free?"

If this didn't earn her Brownie points with him, nothing ever would, she thought as she scribbled down possible dates.

However the next question momentarily floored her for a second.

"Mum also said that you and Dad are probably more than friends, that you are his bit on the side he sleeps with," Bethany confessed.

She said what? The utter tart! Donna was in two minds to point out who exactly was the 'bit on the side' in this scenario, but she hastily bit her tongue to stop herself from doing so. Instead she forced herself to laugh.

Except she stopped laughing when Bethany innocently asked, "Do you fancy Dad?"

"Well I…," Donna heard herself stammering. What was the matter with her?! She'd denied fancying plenty of blokes in her time, even when she had. "I wouldn't have put it like that. He's erm… he has a certain something."

"Oh Donna!" Bethany obviously threw her hand over her mouth to stop a loud guffaw erupting out. "How could you? He's old!"

"Watch it, you!" Donna playfully threatened. "In case you hadn't noticed, I'm old too and way passed it."

"You're not that old," Bethany defended her in return. "It's just… he's my dad."

Donna could almost hear Bethany screwing her nose up in disgust. "Yeah, well, some of us go for the puppy dog eyes and the air of authority whilst being…" She sighed. "Why am I even saying all this?"

"Puppy dog eyes," Bethany repeated as she giggled. "You've got it bad."

Had she? Was she really that wrapped up in him? She quickly shut that thought down. "Don't go telling him what I said, alright? I'd never live it down; we're just friends," Donna insisted; and started getting one of those headaches again. It was one of those debilitating headaches that always appeared when a phrase tweaked something deep in her mind, except they hadn't been as bad lately, since pregnancy had become a possibility.

"I promise I won't," Bethany assured her. "But Donna…?"

"Yes, love?"

"If you two ever get married, can I be bridesmaid?" Bethany cheekily requested as a tease.

Donna genuinely laughed then. "Of course you can. I'll tell you what, IF that ever happens, you can choose the venue, the dress, everything!"

"You are funny!" Bethany declared. "But I'll hold you to that."

That wasn't hard to imagine. "I'm sure you would. And I can seek my revenge by becoming your wicked stepmother."

Her giggling sobered, and Bethany added, "I can't see you ever being like that. You'd be a brilliant stepmother."

Unbidden tears sprung to Donna's eyes. "What a lovely thing to say. Thank you." She wiped across her face with the back of her sleeve when she couldn't see a convenient box of tissues nearby. "I'd better get back to sorting something out for tomorrow and I'll speak to you later. Bye!"

"Bye Donna!" Bethany called out; and the phone call ended.

For a few moments Donna sat looking at the phone in her hand. When had this stopped being a means to an end and had become a proper loving relationship? Probably right from the word go when she had seen the girl the first time. Already images of her and Bethany drifted through her mind, of them acting like mother and daughter as they shopped for some article. Was this another of her little visions that often came true, or was this just pure wish fulfilment? And did it mean that if she didn't manage to have this precious baby she yearned for, could she lay some claim on his existing daughter instead? Her heart was very willing to go in that direction.

She mentally shook herself. What was she doing letting her thoughts run away with her like that? Especially as she might already be pregnant, with a daughter of her own. This could be it! Almost leaping out of her chair, Donna made her way towards the bathroom where the first pregnancy test sat ready and waiting in the cupboard. In fact she'd bought a load of them to try out over the coming week, since a negative result didn't mean failure yet. With a spring in her step, she ran towards her future.

Within seconds she had her answer, because it was an obvious 'no'; and Donna promptly burst into tears. She had been so sure it would be successful with Hardy.

He'd been so lovely on the phone when she rang to tell him; commiserating with her whilst saying they would merely try again and would continue to do so until that much wanted baby turned up. Yes, what was she thinking it would instantly happen? These things took time, and the statistics were against a quick positive result. Plus, it gave her another clear month to anticipate a pregnancy rather than jumping in feet first like she had tried to do. And things felt so right with Hardy. It would be daft to turn up on her Mum's doorstep and introduce him as the father of her child without any prior meeting. It would seem as though she had just picked him up off the street; and she definitely hadn't done that, despite appearances to the contrary.

Hardy managed to surpass her expectations by arriving to hold her tight during the night, as she sobbed within the warmth of his embrace. He even stayed for most of the following morning. It was the first time she could think of in living memory that anyone had cared so much. Of course there was those missing years to consider, but she quickly dismissed them because, if you really thought about it, if anyone had deeply cared in that time they'd have still been with her. So she was certain not much had happened during 'the gap', as she had christened it.

Since they were quietly cuddling on the settee and not worrying about more carnal activities, Hardy decided to ask about something that had cropped up in their short time sharing a bed. "Donna, did you know you talk in your sleep?"

She was shocked. "No. Do I?"

"Quite a lot," he muttered, and kissed her forehead.

"As long as I don't yell out the name of a different lover you're safe," Donna had joked.

But that remark had worried Hardy. She had called out a name, several times; both in panic and joyously in her sleep. Whoever this 'Spaceman' was he certainly had made her very happy at one point, and absolutely panicked her at another.

"What sort of nicknames have you come up with for past ex-boyfriends?" he then tried to nonchalantly ask.

She frowned as she considered her answer. "Most of them I didn't. Well, not until after we were through and then I came up with a few choice names! Most of them were just 'me bloke' whenever I referred to them, apart from Tubs and Gaffer. Unless you count Gazzie, Chimp, Fogface and Zippit. I can give you a list if you like. No, that's it apart from you," she told him brightly.

Hardy had to remind himself that she was a serial spinster, who was often lonely, as jealousy tried to overtake him. "Then who is Spaceman?" He looked at her expectantly.

"Who?" She instantly started rubbing her forehead as pain shot through her skull. "I've never called anyone… I feel sick! I really feel terrible," she confessed. "I'm going to have to lie down for a while. Can you get me some ibuprofen?"

"Of course I can," he sympathised; and rushed to fetch her some painkillers once he had helped her find her way to bed. He stayed with her until she fell asleep, tenderly stroking her hair; and then mooched around her flat, still wondering who this Spaceman was that she often called out for. Although some of the time she called out for a doctor too. That baffled him. Why would you want a doctor in a dream? One thing he had noticed, asking her questions seemed to trigger her terrible headaches, and kissing her during her sleep stopped the name mumbling.

A/N2: the full adult version of this can be found on my journal and AO3.