The swingset remained in the TARDIS garden, and Donna walked slowly to it, a little surprised to find it still there. She felt a lump in her throat, remembering the last playground she had been on. But then, it hadn't been real, had it? All in her mind. Well, a computer's mind. Her children, Lee - none of it real. She grabbed the chain of the swing, but didn't sit down on it. The metal was cold and rough under her hand, and she held onto it as she closed her eyes against the memories.
"Donna?"
She opened her eyes, but didn't turn toward the Doctor's voice. "Yeah." She heard his footsteps over the leaves on the ground, and felt him stop a little behind her.
"Are you alright?"
She smiled, sadly. "Yeah."
"Timelord 'alright' or really alright?" he asked.
"I'm not sure," she said. She felt his hand on her shoulder, reassuring. "There was a playground. In the computer world. I took," she swallowed hard, trying to get the words out. "I took my children there."
"Donna--" his voice broke.
She turned to him and he put his arms around her, let her bury her face in his shoulder. "They weren't real," she said. He was, though. She could smell him, feel him, hear his heartbeat under her ear.
"Of course they were real to you," he said softly, stroking her hair. "I'm so sorry."
She tried, but failed to hold back a small hiccupy sob. Tears spilled out of her closed eyes onto his suitjacket and he held her closer, his hands soothing on her back. "I'm sorry," he whispered again.
She leaned into him as her tears stopped, and he just held her for long moments.
"Do you remember when you found the swings?" he finally asked, his voice soft.
She smiled a little against him, remembering. "Of course I do," she replied.
"You sat on the swing, and I could picture your children playing here." She felt his arms tighten around her. "Our children. I pictured our children."
She tilted her head back to look at him, placed her hands on his chest. "Our children?"
"You would be a terrific mother," he said. His eyes moved to her lips. "I should have kissed you then."
"Oh."
He met her gaze again. "I thought I had lost you. I saw your face on the statue in the library, and I thought--" he stopped, swallowed. "Donna--"
She moved her hands up to meet at the back of his neck, pulled him down to her, hungry for him. He made a surprised noise in the back of his throat as she moved her lips over his, or maybe she did when his tongue traced her lips, she couldn't be sure. She was sure that this was right, that he was right, and that they should have done this a long time ago. But, better late than never, she thought, as he trailed kisses down her throat.