A/N: the London A-Z is a book of street maps for London and its outer boundaries.

Part 2

.

Donna was not looking forward to this departmental meal one bit. For a start she was going to end up playing gooseberry to a load of marrieds who would look at her as though she was some sad case because she didn't belong to their exclusive club.

Sighing, she put on a pair of decent heels, picked up her handbag and headed out of the door. Graham Chapman lived on the outer edge of the London A-Z, so she desperately hoped she didn't get lost as there would be a swathe of roads that she didn't have. Perhaps she would ask for that Sat Nav for her birthday after all.

Standing anxiously on a doorstep, she adjusted her dress on her hips, hoping she wasn't showing too much leg or cleavage, and waited for someone to answer the doorbell. After a few moments fortunately Graham opened the door, making her feel instantly relieved that she'd found the right place. "Hello!" she greeted.

"Donna!" he cried out, as though she was a long lost friend. "Come in and meet everyone."

Everyone? How many was 'everyone'? "Okay," she answered nervously. How long would she have to stay before leaving wasn't impolite? These and other questions whizzed through her head.

He guided her down the hallway and into a room at the back of the house. "Everyone, this is Donna, our new Girl Friday," Graham announced her to the people in his dining room.

Donna found herself shaking hands with Linda, his wife, the departmental deputy head Jenny Atkins and her husband Gary, and finally John Smith; and only John Smith. So where was his wife? She then found herself being seated next to John, who didn't look too upset about it at all.

"So, Donna, is there a man in your life at the moment?" Linda asked her within minutes of passing her a glass of wine.

'Here we go', she thought. Donna blushed, knowing where this could be leading. "No, none that I know of. But I live in hope," she said as cheerfully as she could.

"And what about you, John?" Linda turned the question on him.

"No, there's no man in my life either; not that I'm into men, or… or… against people who are, or anything," he told them, and took a hasty sip of his drink. He caught Donna wearing a puzzled but angry expression as she regarded him. "What? Did I say something wrong?" he whispered to her.

"No, not wrong; but you just dissed your wife Martha," she hissed in hushed tones at him.

"My wife? I haven't got a wife called Martha or anything else!" he exclaimed incredulously. "Where did you get that from?"

"Then who is Martha?" she asked in a low voice.

"A friend that I met who also happens to work at the school; nothing more. Why did you think I was married?" he wondered. Oh heck! That explained everything! No wonder it had seemed like she had been avoiding him.

"Just something someone said," she answered nonchalantly. Oh yes, oh yes! This evening was turning out alright after all. "John…," she started to say and then anxiously continued, "By the way, your napkin is on fire."

"My what?" He jumped back as they both sought to beat the flames out together. "I'm terribly sorry, Linda. I don't know what came over me," he immediately apologised to their hostess.

"Are you always this clumsy?" Donna asked as she uncontrollably giggled at him. "I thought the doorway was normal, the desk top was pushing it a bit, but now you've gone and done this I'm beginning to wonder if you have a death wish!"

He leant in to whisper, "You should see what I do for an encore."

She clamped a hand over her mouth and burst into laughter.

"Now children! Behave yourselves!" Graham playfully admonished them, glad to see they were getting along. He had suspected that they would.

Donna switched to water after that, since she was driving, and enjoyed her meal enormously. Inevitably the talk turned to teaching, and she found herself getting a little bored by things that didn't mean a great deal to her. But she listened anyway; well, she did until John leaned in again to whisper something.

"Don't worry; I don't know who these people they are talking about are either," he consoled her, placing a hand over the top of hers.

Not knowing whether the gesture was merely friendly or friendly, she let him keep it there just to see. The feel of his hand was quite nice; she had to admit, as it lay above hers. She was trying to come up with something else to say when Jenny suddenly asked her where she lived; so she quickly explained where in Chiswick it was.

"Really? I live just down the road from you," John remarked. "Do you know the new block off the High Street? I live there, in one of the teacher flats."

"Oh I know them!" she exclaimed with glee. "I'd wondered who they'd built them for."

"So you can give John a lift home and save him some time," remarked Graham to Donna.

John felt mortified at being pushed so obviously into sharing a car with Donna; so he sheepishly said, "You don't have to. I can easily go the same way I got here."

"No, it's alright," Donna insisted, pleased to see he was as embarrassed as she was. "I'm practically going passed your front door so it would be daft not to offer you a lift." She'd been cornered into making the offer, but she didn't mind in the slightest. In fact it might work in her favour.

By the end of the evening John's hand had strayed a couple of times onto her arm or hand, but only ever so briefly she noted, and his leg kept wedging itself fleetingly against hers; but all the time he was a perfect gentleman. Her only concern was that he'd downed a few glasses of wine during the course of the evening, and she began to suspect that she was going to have to go on drunk-bloke alert. This could mean anything from fending off the advances of a drunk to holding back hair while somebody is sick before the evening was out.

What she wasn't in any doubt about was his interest in her. He'd spent practically the whole night talking with just her, using any excuse to ask an opinion, or starting their own little exclusive conversation. To say she was flattered was an understatement. Before this current job she would have run a mile from any possible relationship with a teacher of all people, but with him the idea wasn't too bad at all.

Before she knew it the clock was dangerously close to midnight, so she announced that she'd better make tracks for home. "Come on, Sunshine," she said and gestured to John to follow her. "Let these good people get to bed."

Saying their thanks and goodbyes, Donna strode out into the cold night air, expecting John to easily follow behind. Instead he just wavered on the footpath once they were outside. Their hosts snickered at him as he stood there like a lost child.

Donna marched back to the house and grabbed his hand. "This way!" she said as she tugged to get him to follow her. "I'm parked just up here."

"Oh I see," he mumbled, and patiently followed her lead. Except he tripped, and Donna had to quickly place herself beneath him so that he didn't land splat on the pavement.

"You really do have problems walking, don't you," she remarked. "How much did you have to drink tonight?"

"I don't know. I forgot to keep count," he admitted. "Can I hold on to you?"

"Yes, alright," she agreed, letting him wrap an arm around her shoulders; so it only seemed fitting to put her arm around his waist. "Can you make it to the car okay now?"

"Is this your car? It's blue!" he announced as though it was the funniest thing in the world.

Drunks, eh? She steered him towards the passenger door, and leant him against the door pillar as she attempted to open the car. "Do you think you can get in okay?"

He nodded his answer. "Definitely," he decided before almost falling onto the passenger seat.

At least he'd made it inside the car, Donna reasoned. It could have been worse. That was before he started singing along to the radio; loudly. And he was aiming the songs at her, which was a bit embarrassing. On the plus side, he did manage to stay in key.

"John, where are your front door keys?" she asked as they pulled in to the small car park for his block of flats.

"In my pocket," he answered; and then just sat there.

"Can you get them out, please," she tried to encourage him.

He giggled and then said, "No!"

"Oh for the love of… Which pocket are they in?" she asked more sternly.

"Not telling," he retorted with a pout.

"Then you'll have to face the consequences of me finding them," she warned him, and thrust a hand into the nearest pocket.

"Ooh, you're keen!" he trilled with delight.

Donna decided to ignore this and carried on looking. This resulted in her leaning across him in a very compromising position. Not that it was the first time such a thing had happened to her, nor would it probably be the last. "Just keep still will you? This is awkward enough as it is," she griped. "Ahah! I've found it," she triumphantly declared, holding his key aloft.

"Wasn't all you found," he cheekily remarked; so she was duty bound to swat his leg then. He didn't seem all that fazed about it.

"Come on, Cinderfella; let's get you to where you belong." She'd opened the passenger door and was manhandling him out of the vehicle while he fought to free himself from the seat belt.

With lots of whispered instructions as they sort of walked along, she finally found where his front door was, opened it and took him inside. It was all a bit bare and basic, she noticed. "Which way to your bedroom, and don't start with the saucy talk, mister! I'll get you sorted out and then I'm going home," she informed him.

What she had expected was to manoeuvre him into his bedroom, sit him down on the bed, supply him with a glass of water and then disappear off home. What she got was him thanking her profusely as they stumbled in through the door, kissing her cheek in gratitude and then making his way down to her neck as he slid his hands across and over her body. She opened her mouth to protest as he pinned her against the wall, but his lips suddenly claimed hers and she was powerless under the onslaught. Mainly because it wasn't horrible in any shape or form; instead it was soft, seductive, and incredibly sexy as he moved against her. She could feel the tip of his tongue tasting and teasing her lips before easing them apart to smooth over her tongue.

If she wasn't careful she could end up having sex with a drunk, and that was never a good idea. The morning after can be a complete nightmare. With a great deal of reluctance, she murmured, "Let's get you into bed, John."

"Oh yes!" he replied eagerly.

It seemed a bit cruel, but she helped him get undress and into bed, she fetched him a glass of water and some headache tablets for the morning, and then she crept quietly away. The last thing she wanted was to create bad feelings between them, so she left him there looking adorable as he scrunched up in his bed cuddling his pillow.

What she didn't know was that she was being watched as she left his flat.