A/N: here is the antepenultimate chapter. I hope you enjoy it. :D

Part 7

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When Martha walked back into the lounge after leaving enough time for her pretend phonecall, John was sat where she had hoped he wouldn't be, embracing Donna. She sat herself sulkily on the end of the settee, thinking of how annoyed the Doctor would be in the future that she hadn't prevented this.

After another half an hour of sitting there next to a canoodling couple Martha's phone went off with a text stating what how much credit was still on it. She used the opportunity to pretend it was her mum with a spare key and excused herself from their company. Once inside her own flat, Martha sat down and tried to devise a plan to open that pocket watch before the Doctor did something really stupid.

The problem was that John was determined to do that 'really stupid'. As soon as he closed his front door he drew Donna near. "Now where did we get up to before we were so rudely interrupted?" he purred at her.

She smiled coyly back. "I believe we were discussing the finer points of the industrialisation of London during the eighteenth century and its effects on the economic growth."

"You've been peeking at my worksheets!" he accused her with a smug grin playing about his features.

"I might have glanced at them," Donna admitted. "What have you been peeking at?"

He ran a finger along her collar bone and keenly watched its progress. "I'm not sure I should own up to it," he confessed in a low voice.

"If you can't tell your pretend wife then who can you tell?" she teased him.

"Donna, I really want to kiss you!" he declared.

"Then, my dear John, I shall grant you three wishes," she promised as she snaked her arms up to entwine her hands behind his head. "Here comes the first one."

Breathing deeply and steadily, she reached up across the small distance between them and placed her lips upon his mouth.

Parting his lips slightly, he moved over her mouth, pressing with delicate touches before taking his time to taste ad smooth her tongue, her teeth, the roof of her mouth; everything and anything he could reach. She sucked on his tongue, making him groan loudly and undulate against her. He broke from her momentarily to suggest, "Let's go lay down somewhere together."

John led Donna through to the lounge and back to the settee; ignoring the television that was now playing something else. Instantly he tenderly cradled her face to start off a kiss they shared and both built on, leading towards something much more passionate.

Donna broke from him long enough to undo his shirt buttons, desperate to run her hands over his skin. She giggled as she shoved the shirt off his shoulders because he was at that point tackling the buttons of her blouse with eager fingers. She wasn't giggling anymore by the time he had removed her blouse and had his sights set on her bra, because her mouth was preoccupied by the talented efforts of his mouth and tongue to seduce and arouse.

It was as he started to pay her breasts particular attention, using tender touches and soft kisses, that his phone rang thus destroying the moment. He swore loudly, reluctantly released Donna and pressed the answer button. "Hello," he gruffly queried the caller.

"John, it's me, Martha. I'm phoning because you really should reconsider this evening with Donna," Martha forced out down the phone before he could say anything else.

"You have got to be kidding me! What bizarre excuse have you thought up now?" John demanded of her.

"It's not what you think, honest it isn't. I know you think a lot of her and that's why I'm doing this. You think I don't know about the alter ego you dream about called the Doctor; but I do, and he is inside you waiting to return," she said.

John blanched. "That's got nothing to do with you," he retorted.

"It has! It's got everything to do with me because I'm supposed to protect you until the Doctor comes back," Martha stated.

"Look Martha, I am not going to argue the toss about some character in a book I've written. I'm sure you think you are doing the right thing but I don't need protecting; unless it is from you and your constant need to stop me from having my date with Donna," John told her.

"Please Doctor, you have got to listen to me," Martha cried.

John huffed angrily. "My name is John, not Doctor. Good night, Martha. If you try this again our friendship is over; and it is on very dodgy ground as it is!" With that he ended the call and returned his attention to a bemused Donna.

Seeing his demeanour, she did nothing more than engulf him in a comforting hug. "So you write books," she softly queried. "I didn't know that."

"Only the one," was the muffled answer from somewhere against her hair. "Do you want to see it?"

"I'd love to, if you'd show me. Would I be able to understand it, or does it have too much of a Stephen Hawking vibe?" she wondered.

He chuckled. "Nowhere near as intelligent or anything like that. It's a piece of science fiction about a man who travels in time. Like in HG Wells but he also travels to other planets," he explained.

"Is he as good looking as Rod Taylor?" she asked mischievously. "Because if he is then I'd read it."

"Well, I've sort of based him on me. I often dream of his possible adventures," John continued. "He meets all sorts of aliens."

Donna pretended to think on this one. "Looks just like you...? The main character looks like the back end of a bus; what a shame! Now if you'd based him on someone good looking, like Johnny Depp..." She didn't get the chance to finish her saucy tirade because John was determined to stop her, and decided to do so by proving how attractive she found him.

"I could show you my notes if you like. They're in the bedroom," he offered breathlessly.

"Makes a change from being shown someone's etchings," she joked. "And my little history man might be a sci-fi man."

John was warring with himself as he pulled out the book that held all his thoughts and ideas from where he'd ensconced it in his bedside cabinet. Would Donna think he was a complete idiot for having these alien inspired ideas; would she ultimately reject him? With a great deal of trepidation he handed the book to her as she sat on his bed. It hadn't escaped his notice that she was still half naked as she sat there, and manfully tried to ignore the fact. Or should that be manfully reacted to that fact? Anyway, he waited with baited breath to see what her reaction would be.

Donna sat dutifully on the bed and flicked through the pages. She didn't know what she had expected beyond having to be supportive, but what she saw amazed her! His ideas were fantastic, about other worlds, aliens and people his character the Doctor met. Not only were his descriptions included but he had fully illustrated it all with a style that showed a great deal of talent. There were several faces that she didn't know from Adam, but the picture of Martha was uncannily accurate; and then right at the end she recognised one of herself. "Blimey! You put me in," she said in disbelief. "Why did you put my ugly mug in with all these fantastic things?"

"Why wouldn't I?" he asked, equally astounded that she would wonder such a thing. "You feature in my dreams and he is so in love with you it's ridiculous."

"He is?" Donna moved her head closer to his as they sat on the bed. "Why would he do such a stupid thing? This Doctor could have any woman that he clicked his fingers at."

John moved in on her. "Then I'd better not let him click his fingers or anything else at you," he answered, "because I want you all to myself."

"You don't write greetings cards on the side, do you?" she mocked self-deprecatingly.

He pretended to pout. "Oh no! You've found out my guilty secret. I'm really Patience Strong."

"Thought I recognised the dress sense." She swept her gaze down his body, and reached out to him. "John, I don't do gush very well."

He smiled back at her in amusement. "I had noticed, funnily enough."

"In that case, be gentle with me," she pleaded quietly.

"Always," he promised sincerely.

He trailed a finger slowly down her bare arm and down to her hip. "Don't! That tickles," she chastised him.

"No it doesn't," he mischievously contradicted.

She briefly kissed him. "I'll be right back," she consoled, slinking away from him as he lay on the bed.

He lazily watched her naked form almost glide across the room, enjoying the way the moonlight highlighted her pale skin.

When Donna returned to the bedroom he was standing gazing out the window at the urban landscape beyond, deep in dark thoughts; so she wrapped herself around him from behind and kissed his shoulder. "Flashing the neighbours to give them a cheap thrill, eh? What's the matter, John? Did I do something wrong?"

He raised her forearm from where it rested across his chest and kissed it fondly. "Nothing to do with you, gorgeous! It's just that... sometimes I feel that I don't quite belong here, Donna. It's as if I should be somewhere else doing something far more important."

"I thought standing around naked was a worthwhile job…! But seriously, you are helping the next generation become what they want to be. What could be more important than that?" she reasoned.

John turned slowly in her embrace. "What did I do to deserve you in my life?"

"Sent in the right amount of coupons, perhaps? Anyway, I'm the lucky one since you're the first intelligent sexy bloke to ever look at me twice; well, when I say that I mean directly in the face. I'm as thick as two short planks," Donna argued.

"You are no such thing!" he protested. With great deliberation he kissed the end of her nose. "You, Donna Noble, are perfect."

She snorted her derision. "Yes but perfect at what? Making a right cods of my life."

"Not so long ago you walked into my life, literally dazzling me into realising how lost I was without you. Now would you please stop forcing me to gush at you like this! I'll end up proposing if I'm not careful," he playfully complained.

She wiped her thumb along his lip and made a twisting, locking motion. "Gushing officially halted. Good grief you're already in a pretend engagement; we can't have you accidentally going the whole hog. Martha would have a pink fit for a start!"

"What's this got to do with Martha?" he questioned, pouting adorably.

"Really? You're playing that game?" she queried incredulously. "Though why am I surprised? You are clearly delusional most of the time."

"What do I do the rest of the time?" he wondered.

"That's when I get to play with you," she answered, gathering him closer so that she could kiss his lips. "Just let me know when you have another free moment for me."

"Anytime; you'll always have first dibs," he assured her; and hungrily kissed her in return.

Martha sat fretfully in her flat. There was no other way to describe it; she had failed in her task to keep the Doctor safe from the effects of love as a human. Would he ever forgive her inability to stop him taking this step? And what sort of affect would it have on Donna when it was revealed that the Doctor was not the man she thought he was? This was not going to end well, and she hated this sense of foreboding.