This one is an AU that assumes "The End of Time" didn't happen and isn't going to.

Big thanks to BMG for helping me out with some of the details! I hope you like it!

Donna answered her mobile reluctantly, hoping that the unknown number wouldn't be someone she'd regret speaking to. "Hello?"

"Hello!" a cheerful male voice replied. "My name is John Smith and I'm calling today to ask if you would be interested in taking an anonymous survey about your health over the past six months. This call will be recorded for training purposes, and your answers may be used for research. This survey is completely confidential and will take approximately twenty minutes to complete..."

Donna pulled her mobile away from her ear and stared at it in disgust. If this John guy thought it was a good idea to scam her for a survey, he had another thing coming. "Where did you get this number?" she demanded.

There was a second of hesitation. "I'm calling from...UNIT, um, Charity Group."

"I'm not interested," she said firmly. Her finger hovered over the end button, ready to press it and get on with her day.

"Wait, wait, please don't go!" the man begged. His voice went high and squeaky, losing much of its cheeriness. "How about just a few basic health questions? Ten? Five? Three?"

"What, so it's a choose-your-own-survey?"

"Right. Yes. That's it exactly!"

"I'm still not interested." Donna hung up and shoved her mobile back into her pocket, unable to hold back a laugh at the man. Either twenty minutes or three questions? Some survey.

She grabbed her bag and smoothed down her shirt before she headed out the door. She had a date with Shaun, and she didn't want to be late.

Donna was in the middle of dinner with Shaun when her mobile rang again. "Sorry. Do you mind if I take this?" she asked, gesturing at her handbag.

Shaun shook his head. "No, go ahead."

She dug out her mobile and he answered it quietly. "Hello?"

"Hello! Please don't hang up this time. This is John Smith again. I contacted you earlier about a health sur-"

"Yes, you did, and I said I'm not interested. Take my number off your cold calling list." Donna hung up and tossed her mobile back into her handbag, gritting her teeth.

"Who was that?" Shaun asked.

"It's just a telemarketer. He called earlier, too." She rolled her eyes and picked up her fork, ready to get back to her meal.

"Oh. Don't you hate them?" Shaun sympathized.

"Yeah. This one's after me about my health." She snorted. "I'm sure he really wants to hear about migraines and insomnia, right? Or maybe memory loss and fatigue is more his cup of tea."

"They make good money off people like you and me," Shaun said, lowering his voice as he leaned in closer to her. "Just last month, one of them tricked my Gran into giving over control of her computer. They wanted a ridiculous sum to unlock it, and she was planning to give it to them until I intervened. Can you believe that?"

"But she could have lost everything," Donna said, alarmed, thinking of all of the important information she kept on her laptop.

"Do you think they care about that? They just want your money. They'll say anything to get you to open your purse."

"You're right," Donna agreed. "I hope this one gets the message and leaves me alone now."

"Well, you could always try to bore him to death. I know how you like to go on and on about what happened to you," Shaun said, with a laugh. "Sometimes it seems like you'll never stop. Not that I'm complaining or anything. Just teasing you a bit."

Donna's stomach twisted at his words. Did she really talk about it that much? Enough that it bothered those closest to her? "Maybe," she said, softly.

They finished their meals in silence, and then she invited Shaun back to her house to meet her mum. She hated to admit it, but she had certain needs that just weren't being met. They had been dating for nearly five months now, but he wasn't interested in anything more than a casual relationship. No commitment. She wanted to move forward into something more serious, but she was starting to feel ridiculous asking for the same things over and over and getting the same response.

"Thanks, but I can't come over tonight," he said. "I've got things to do at home."

"Things. Right." Donna nodded and forced a smile. "Okay. Well, I'll see you later then."

"Yeah, definitely." He stood to hug her goodbye.

Donna hugged him back and accepted his offer to walk her to her car. At least he cared that she was safe. That was better than nothing.

The drive home was almost desperately lonely. Donna was still wide awake and wanted to go out and do something, but there wasn't anything to do. She didn't really have any friends anymore. The head injury that had taken two years of her memories and left her with crippling migraines and insomnia had made drinking with Nerys and Veena potentially dangerous thanks to the medication she was on. Besides that, she just didn't have the energy to go shopping or do very much of anything anymore. Her injury had taken so much from her, and her old friends weren't interested in spending time with someone who wasn't any fun. She told them she understood, but it still hurt to be left out. They didn't even bother to invite her anymore.

So, it was going to be her and a packet of crisps on the sofa again. Her nightly routine wasn't doing her waistline any favors, but at least it gave her something to do. She'd catch up on her reality TV programs and gossip about them with her mum.

Donna was in bed and halfway asleep when John called again. She recognized his number this time, but something compelled her to answer it despite the late hour. "Do you know what time it is?" she ground out.

"Erm, yeah, it's…" He paused. "Oh. It's late, isn't it?" he said, as if it really hadn't occurred to him. "I'm sorry. Were you asleep?"

"I'm sure you don't care about that, Mr Medical Survey."

"No, I do. Really," he said, and he actually sounded sincere. "I can call back at a better time if you'd like me to. It's not a problem."

"Oh, right. 'Cause you listened so well when I told you to take my number off your cold calling list."

To her surprise, he laughed. A real, honest laugh. "That's true, but I really can call back later. Should I?"

"No."

"So..." he dragged the word out into a yawn. "Survey, yes or no?"

"I'm guessing it's late where you are too. Don't get much sleep?" Donna asked, deciding that she could pick on him a bit for calling so late.

John went quiet for a few seconds, and then he said, "No. Not nearly as much as I should."

She hadn't expected that. "Oh. That probably explains…"

"Why I'm calling you in the middle of the night and didn't even realize even it?"

"Yeah." She glanced at her alarm clock, which was quietly ticking away on her nightstand. "I don't get much sleep either. Nightmares."

"Me too," he said, quietly. "Almost every night."

Donna sighed, already sure she was going to regret what she was about to say. "Look, I don't want to be on here for twenty minutes, but if you can keep it short, say, five questions max, I'll do your survey. If there's still a choose-your-own option, that is."

"Of course there is. Just for you."

"And I'm not going to let you off the hook. Ask a question, answer a question." She wasn't sure what made her say that, but there was something about this man's voice. She liked it. It almost sounded familiar, and she wanted him to keep talking so that she could try to place it.

"Okay," he agreed easily.

"Okay. Fire away." She closed her eyes and let her head sink further into her pillow. She was exhausted and feeling stiff and achy all over, but despite that, there was a tiny seed of excitement building in her chest. She'd never come across a telemarketer quite like this one before. Who knew what was going to happen?

"Would you like to give me a name to use, first?" John asked. "Just make something up, if you like, but don't bother if you'll count it as a question. I'll just call you Survey Participant Fifty-Three."

"Donna," she said, automatically. Her name was common enough that it didn't really matter.

"Donna." He said her name warmly, like it was a mouthful of buttery bread. "Donna. Donnnaaa."

"Yeah, that's me."

"Hello, Donna."

She smirked. "Hello, John. Now get to your questions."

He chuckled. "Okay, I'll do that," he said. "You mentioned that you have a hard time sleeping. Do you have any other major health problems or concerns at the moment?"

"Well, I was in a car accident six months ago," she said.

"A car accident?"

"Yeah. I, um, don't remember it, but apparently I hit my head and ended up with a mild brain injury." She waited for a response, but when all she got was a soft intake of breath, she went on. "Well, they say it's mild. Can't even see the damage on an MRI scan, but I don't remember the two years before the accident, and I've had insomnia and these terrible migraines ever since." She said it matter of factly, the way she had perfected over the months in her conversations with numerous doctors and concerned acquaintances.

"I'm so very sorry to hear that," John said, his voice going soft. "That must be very hard to live with."

"Oh… It can be," Donna said, unwilling to admit just how hard it was. Except no one had ever really said anything so sympathetic to her before. Her mum and Gramps mostly refused to talk about what had happened, and almost seemed to expect her to go on as if nothing had happened at all. Evan Shaun thought she should have put it all behind her already. No one would let her talk about it for any length of time. "I think the memory loss is the worst part," she admitted.

"Why is that?" John asked. "Second question."

"Are you writing all of this down?" she asked, trying to decide whether to filter herself or not.

"No, I'm not. I'm only recording the medical bare basics, no personal details. I've got down insomnia, nightmares, brain injury, amnesia, migraines. Exactly like that."

She nodded even though he couldn't see her. "Okay."

"So, what is it about the memory loss that makes it the worst?" he asked, gently prodding her to continue.

"Well, I guess…" She paused to think. "I just can't help but wonder what happened during those years. What did I do? Where did I go? Who did I meet? There are so many unanswered questions, so much time that I lost. It seemed impossible to go on when I first found out." She sighed. "My mum said they were completely boring, average years, but I can't help but think maybe… Really, it's stupid, but maybe I…"

"Did something amazing?" John guessed.

"Well, yeah." Donna swallowed hard as a lump formed in her throat. "Oh, I'm completely bonkers, aren't I?"

"No, you're not. Not at all," John assured her. "Why would you think that?"

"Because it's what everyone says. Nothing happened, nothing happened, nothing happened. But it feels like something did, something so big. But I can't remember what it is, and they all say I'm wrong." Donna sniffled as tears stung her eyes, suddenly overcome with the same old emotions she'd confronted a hundred times in the last six months. "I know I didn't lie in bed and stare at the ceiling for two years, you know?"

"No, you didn't do that," he agreed. "Have you tried to talk to anyone else about this? Maybe friends or coworkers you knew before the accident, or even a counselor?"

"See, that's the thing. My friends all said the same things as my mum and Gramps. Nothing happened and I've been here all along, normal old life." She bit her bottom lip, desperate to hold back the sobs that wanted to tear their way out. "Except no one has any photos of me during those years. Not a single one. And I've got none of the money in my bank account that I should have earned from working. There's just a bit of added interest."

"Hmm. That is really strange."

"You think so?"

"Oh, yes. Very strange indeed," he said, his voice soft and thoughtful. "You'd think there would be lots of evidence from you living those years."

Donna's tears increased at his reaffirming tone. No one had ever agreed with her before, but instead they all treated her as though she were too dense to recognize the facts that were staring her right in the face. She lost control before she could say anything else, tears spilling out even as she fought to hold them in. The result was a loud hiccuping sob that tore through her chest and made her throat burn.

"Oh, Donna. I'm so sorry," John said. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

"S'okay," she mumbled, her whole face burning with shame. Thank goodness he couldn't see her.

"Here, why don't you ask me a question now? Take a break from talking about these things."

"Okay." Donna took a deep, shuddering breath and wiped her eyes, trying to regain some degree of control over herself. She asked the simplest question that came to mind. "How did you become a telemarketer?"

"Hmm." He paused. "I guess I've always had a big gob, so I thought it would be a good fit."

"Oh."

"Yeah. I can talk, me," he continued. "You should hear me when I really get started on something. I practically never shut up. I can go on for hours and hours, just talking and talking and talking. To myself, even, if I can't find an audience. On and on and on. Rattling away. Babbling. Rambling, even. I'm a proper chatterbox."

Donna chuckled through her tears, finding the way he said the same thing over and over again amusing.

"So telemarketing called my name, more or less," he finished.

"I see," Donna said.

"And the pay's not bad, either," he added, like it was an afterthought.

Donna chuckled. "It isn't?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, it's decent," he said. "Well, it's enough for me to get by on, anyway."

"What, no wife or kids?" Donna asked.

"No. It's just me," he said, sadly. "I used to have someone, but she's gone now."

"Oh. Well, I'm very sorry to hear that," Donna said, touched by the sadness in his voice and his continuing willingness to play along and answer her questions.

"It's hard, sometimes," he admitted, softly. "I turn around and start talking to her, but she's not there, or I reach for her hand and grab the air. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever stop, or if I'll ever feel whole without her again."

"I know it doesn't seem like it now, but you will, eventually," Donna assured him. She licked her lips, trying to decide whether to volunteer more information or not. "I, um, had a fiance before my accident. The last I remember, we were planning our wedding, but apparently he ran off and left me at the altar. And I don't remember any of it. No one's seen him since. I didn't even believe them at first, you know? We were so completely in love with each other, and yet I'm supposed to believe that he got cold feet? It just doesn't make any sense. Anyway, it took me ages to stop looking over my shoulder for him, and I think I must have texted his mobile at least two dozen times by mistake." She paused before adding, "I know my situation is different from yours, but it gets easier as time passes, it really does. You'll never stop missing her, but I want you to know that one day it won't hurt so much. You've just got to hang in there."

"Thank you for sharing that with me," John said, softly. "I can't imagine that I'll ever feel better, but if you're doing all right with everything that has happened to you, I'm sure I will be, too."

"Aim to be better than all right," Donna advised. "All right means you're really not all right at all."

"Where did you hear that?" John asked, with a chuckle.

"Oh, I don't know. Probably read it on a greeting card or something." She laughed. "I certainly didn't come up with it!"

"Well, I'll keep it in mind," he said. "And I guess this is the end of the survey."

"Oh. Right."

There was a long moment of silence, and then John said, "Thank you for your time."

"Yeah. Thanks for talking to me and putting up with my questions," Donna said. "It's been far too long since I've had a decent chat on the phone."

"You're welcome. I hope you feel better."

"Thanks. You, too."

"I already do. Thank you again," he said. "Um… Goodbye, Don-na." His voice cracked on her name, and he cleared his throat before trying again. "Donna."

"Bye, John." She pulled the mobile away from her ear, but she couldn't bring herself to end the call. After a few seconds, she held it back up to her ear. "John?"

"Yeah?"

"You didn't hang up."

"Neither did you," he pointed out.

"I know." They both laughed.

"Did you need something else?" he asked.

"No. I guess I'm just…"

"Lonely?" John guessed.

"So lonely."

He sighed. "Donna?"

"Yeah?"

"How would you feel about a follow-up call?"

"What, more questions?" she asked. She wasn't quite sure how she felt about that.

"No, not really. Just to see how you're doing."

That didn't sound so bad. "Okay. When will you call?"

"When's a good time for you?" he asked.

"Anytime." Her schedule was completely free now, save for her television time.

"How about the same day next week? I know it's Christmas, but I haven't got any plans. I'm signed up to work and everything." There was a smile in his voice. "If that works for you, I'll be sure to call earlier in the day."

"I'm not doing anything for Christmas, so that will be fine. And this really isn't such a bad time after all," Donna said. "It's actually worked out fine."

"Oh, good! All right, then. Christmas day, same time it is," he said.

"Same place," Donna added.

That earned her another small laugh. "Oh, yes, same place. Well, until then, Donna."

"Talk to you later," she said. "Now, you should go get some sleep."

"You too. Good night," he said, softly.

"Good night." This time, Donna hung up. She cradled her mobile to her chest for a moment, hugging it, and then she put it on her bedside table. It was late, and she really needed to sleep. Maybe now she would have good dreams instead of the usual sci-fi nightmares she'd had since her accident.

Her mobile rang late on Christmas night, just as she expected. "Hello?" she answered, and her stomach fluttered in anticipation of hearing his warm voice again.

"Donna?" he asked. "It's me, John."

"Oh, I know. I've put your number in my phonebook. You're the first telemarketer who has ever had that privilege," she said, hoping he would laugh.

She wasn't disappointed. "I'll have to add that to my CV," he said, chuckling. "So, how was your Christmas? Did you do anything fun?"

"No, I didn't do anything because I didn't want to. I hate Christmas, you see," she admitted, unsure how he would react. She remembered that he'd said he didn't have any plans either, so hopefully he would understand.

"You still- You hate Christmas?" Surprise make his voice go higher. "How could anyone hate Christmas? It's so much fun! There are all of the gifts, and Father Christmas, and the caroling, and the decorations and lights and snow and candy canes. Oh, and mistletoe! A fun tradition, that. You never know who you might get to kiss."

Apparently he didn't understand. "It's all just a load of commercialised rubbish. It's about who can buy the most expensive gifts and throw the best party, not about spending time with your family. It used to be fun when I was younger and could go out with the girls, but now it's just another day, except for mum's dinner. She's a wonderful cook, but she always makes too much and I end up breaking my diet."

"Oh, but it's so much more than that! And Christmas is not the day to worry about dieting," he said, with a snort.

"Right. I bet you're one of those skinny people who can eat whatever you like without gaining a pound. Is that right?" she teased.

After a long pause, John said, "I can't help that I've got a good metabolism."

Donna rolled her eyes and smiled. "Oh, I knew it! Well, John, I've got to tell you that I hate you, too."

"Oi! How can you hate me and Christmas? We're both wonderful, I'll have you know."

"You've also got quite the ego," she said, unable to hold back a deep laugh. There was something about this man that warmed her from head to toe.

"Well…"

"Well…" she mocked. "So, what did you do today? You said you didn't have any Christmas plans either."

"I never make plans. I just go where the, um, car takes me. I ended up spending Christmas with a lovely couple this year. They'd been married for sixty years and I'm pretty sure they wanted to adopt me as their son by the end of the night. Betty kept stroking my hair. But it was great fun. We had Christmas crackers and everything."

Donna couldn't help but smile at the images he presented her with, despite knowing that she was about to ruin the mood. "I woke up with a migraine, took some of my tablets and fell back asleep for a few hours. When I got up again, I sat and watched telly with my mum until it was time for dinner. That's all I've done today. Haven't felt up to much else."

"I'm sorry to hear that." He sighed. "We've got to see what we can do to help you. How often do you leave your house?"

She frowned at the way he suddenly sounded just like her doctor, but shook it off. He was her, well, she didn't exactly know what he was to her, but he wasn't her psychiatrist. He wasn't judging her. "Once a week, usually. Friday is date night with Shaun. Except now, well..."

"Who is Shaun?" He was louder now, his concern evident in his voice.

"He was my boyfriend, but he broke up with me last night." Donna didn't understand why she hadn't been disappointed or upset when he had phoned her on Christmas Eve to tell her he had found a new woman. She still wasn't upset, though she was disappointed. Maybe she had been expecting it on some level. He clearly hadn't been invested in their relationship, and deep down, she'd known it all along. "So I'll probably stay in on Fridays now too."

"Oh. He sounds like an arse." He was silent for a long moment. "But you could go out with me instead, if you like?" He suddenly sounded so eager, like a bouncy puppy. "I'm free on Fridays."

She smiled despite herself, pleased with his offer and relieved that he hadn't kept apologizing for the unfortunate events that had befallen her. But she still had to warn him. "I'm really no fun at all, John. I've got more aches and pains than your average eighty year old, and the energy of a sloth. I get tired walking from my bedroom to the living room."

"Oh, Donna," he said, softly. "That doesn't bother me. We have so much fun just talking. Maybe we could just do some more of that, but in person. I'll buy you dinner. What do you think?"

She took a moment to think about it, but her mind was already made up. "Well, I suppose that might be okay."

As Donna prepared to enter the little cafe where she was due to meet John, she was suddenly struck by the absurdity of her situation. Here she was, wearing a flowing red skirt and a white floral top, with her hair done up in a wavy bun. She'd even put on some light makeup, and it was all because she was going out to meet a telemarketer. She kept wondering if this was just some kind of elaborate scam, and maybe she was on track to be the next victim, but a small voice in the back of her mind told her that John wouldn't do that to her. He seemed kindhearted and honest, and she desperately needed to believe that such people actually existed in the world.

With a deep breath, she pushed open the door and stepped inside. Her eyes were immediately drawn to a man who was seated alone at a table. He was looking down at his menu, but something felt terribly familiar about him. He was thin, with a head full of chestnut brown hair, and thick glasses that were perched on the end of his sloping nose. For a second, she thought he was wearing a suit, but then her eyes adjusted to the dim light and she realized that he was actually wearing jeans and a brown t-shirt.

She made her way to his table, nerves fluttering deep in her belly. He looked up as she approached and a grin nearly split his face in half. "Donna?" he asked, standing. He pushed his glasses up his nose and held out a hand. "I'm John."

She smiled back and shook his hand, marveling at how familiar his long, thin fingers felt wrapped around hers. "Hello. Thanks for inviting me out."

"Oh, yes, of course," he said, and gave her hand a squeeze before letting go. "Here, let me…"

He pulled out her chair and gestured for her to sit down. "Thanks," Donna said, as she sat and scooted in. John returned to his own seat and smiled at her again.

"Oh, here's the menu. They only brought one, but I already know what I want." He handed her the laminated sheet, his fingers lightly brushing against hers.

She glanced down at it. "What are you having?"

"Just a slice of pizza and a side salad." He shrugged.

Donna nodded. "I think I might have that too."

After their orders were brought, they fell into an easy conversation. John was every bit as friendly and energetic as he had sounded over the phone, and Donna found herself smiling until her cheeks hurt. She couldn't even remember the last time she had been so happy.

But when their food was long gone and it was past time to go, his cheerful expression fell. "I guess this is goodbye," he said, softly, as they lingered just outside the cafe. His expressive brown eyes glittered with tears, and Donna felt herself reaching out for him.

"It's not forever, you prawn," she said, and pulled him into a hug. He eagerly returned it, wrapping his arms around her waist, and Donna found it so comforting that she never wanted him to let go. "We can meet up again next Friday if you're free."

"That would be nice," he said, softly, as he pulled away to look at her. "But we shouldn't."

"Why not? I was hoping we could make this a regular thing," she admitted. She stepped back and watched as he rubbed the back of his neck, and for the first time, she wondered if he were as into this as she was. Maybe she had bored him and just hadn't realized it. "But not if you don't want to," she added softly. Her eyes stung with tears and she silently chastised herself for thinking he was different.

"Oh, Donna Noble, I want to," he breathed. "Please don't ever doubt that. It's just…" Another long pause. "You know what, never mind. Next Friday will be fine. Can I call you this week too? Just because."

Relief flooded Donna's whole body, and she smiled at him. "Of course you can, as long as you don't try to sell me something," she teased.

"I'm just a survey facilitator," he reminded her, and bent to kiss her forehead. He pulled away and rocked back on his heels as if he were unsure what to do next. "Well… Shall I walk you to your car?"

"I'd like that," Donna said, and before she knew what came over her, she pulled him close again and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. A shocked expression took over John's face, but then it morphed in elation and he hummed under his breath, lingering close to her for a moment. With another soft look, he stepped back and offered her his hand, wiggling his fingers. Donna was glad to take it.

The ride home didn't feel so lonely this time, for she was consumed by thoughts of her gorgeous telemarketer and their plans for next week.

Just shy of one year later, on Christmas Day, Donna Smith gave birth to twins and remembered the years she had forgotten at the same time. She remembered exactly who and what John actually was, and what he had done to her. And though she wanted to be angry at him, she found herself unable to hold onto the emotion after he'd given his tearful explanation.

"If you had died, I never could have forgiven myself," the Doctor said again, his voice still just as shaky as it had been the first time he'd told her hours ago. He was curled around her in the bed, holding her tightly as if he were afraid she might disappear. "There was a way to save you, so I had to do it. I couldn't watch you die. I just couldn't. I'm so sorry."

Donna stroked his hair, letting him tell his story again. The day had been one big shock after another, and she felt far more tired than angry. "Shh," she soothed him. "It's okay now."

"I love you," he said, softly.

Donna took a deep breath. She knew the Doctor loved her because he hadn't stopped saying it since she remembered. He hadn't meant to fall in love with her as John. He had only wanted to check on her and make sure that she was okay, but he didn't regret that they had fallen in love. He'd always loved her, and Donna believed him because she had always loved him too.

Now, the deep love she felt for John was melting into the love she felt for the Doctor, and she just couldn't be angry at him. Especially not now, after he had just spent the last fifteen hours supporting her through labor, and their newborn sons, asleep in their cots, had heads full of his brown hair. She found that she wouldn't want it any other way.

"I love you too, Spaceman," she said, and shifted so that he could get even closer and wrap his arm around her shoulders. "Did you know that they would absorb the metacrisis and fix me?" she asked. She'd been too afraid to ask that question earlier.

He was quiet for a moment. "I thought maybe, but I didn't dare to hope. And I-I promise that I didn't get you pregnant on purpose to find out," he said, and she felt him tense beside her, as if she would slap him now after everything else had come out. "I wasn't even sure if humans and Time Lords were compatible."

"Apparently we're very compatible." She laughed and gently elbowed him, wanting him to relax. They'd been shocked when she had fallen pregnant just three months into their relationship, but he had been so great about it. She had already known he was the one for her, but when John had immediately swooped her up in his arms and kissed her as soundly as if she'd just told him they'd won the lottery, she had never felt more sure of anything. Walking down the aisle had been just a formality for her family because they were already committed to each other.

"I love you," the Doctor whispered into her ear again. He rubbed her arm. "I love you so much, and I love our children, and I want you to know that the next step is up to you. If you to go back to traveling in the TARDIS with me, I'll be happy, but if you want to go on living like we have been, I'll be happy to do that, too. Domestic life really isn't so bad with you. And if you want me to go away and never bother you again, I won't be happy, but I'll do whatever you ask."

"I definitely don't want you to go away," she said, firmly. "Why don't we take some time to think it over and talk? We need to get reacquainted with being ourselves again."

"Okay," he agreed. "But you do know that I love you, right?"

Donna's heart lurched at the pleading tone in his voice, and she couldn't let him suffer even though he was stuck in a loop. "Of course I know. I love you too." She turned her head so that she could kiss him, and she tasted salty tears on his lips. "Hey, don't cry. It's okay, love," she murmured.

He shook his head, tears still falling. "No, it's not that, I'm- I'm just so happy. I've got you back and we're together, and you love me, and I love you, and we have twins! I couldn't ask for a better Christmas."

"Oh, me neither." Donna smiled even as tears filled her eyes too."Happy Christmas, Doctor."

"Happy Christmas, Donna."

And they lived happily ever after.

I might develop this one into a full-length story at some point.