Donna's sick on Christmas, and John wants to help. A human AU.

John frowned when his neighbor started coughing again. She had been doing that for days now, and she seemed to be getting worse instead of better as time went on. He wondered if she had seen a doctor. Probably not, he decided. Donna Noble seemed nice enough, but she was also always rushed and busy, and he counted himself lucky if he got so much as a hello from her when they passed in the hall. Even when they stood in the lift together, she was all tapping feet and glances at her watch and mobile, and all of his attempts at conversation fell flat.

Still, his concern grew as her cough turned into a hoarse, hacking sound. That wasn't good. She could very well have bronchitis, or maybe even pneumonia. He thought back and realized that he hadn't seen her in two days. Did she have anyone to check on her? He wondered if maybe he should try, but it was nearly midnight and he didn't want to scare her by knocking on her door. Tomorrow was Christmas. Surely someone would come to check on her then.

That settled, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

John found that he couldn't enjoy his Christmas with the sounds of his neighbor coughing her lungs up next door. It didn't bother him so much when he went to work during the day and only heard her at night, but he couldn't concentrate on the Christmas parade on television with her hacking. It sounded like she was in pain, and he couldn't bear the thought of that.

He glanced over at the oven where his turkey was nearly done cooking and sprang up from the sofa as an idea hit him. He rummaged through his fridge, finding the necessary ingredients, and began chopping everything up. Chicken soup was best for a cold, but turkey should work just as well. He didn't need such a big turkey anyway, being all alone. It was no problem to share.

While the soup was simmering, he gathered up some other supplies and put them into his bag. He needed his stethoscope, of course, and his thermometer, as well as some cough drops and cold tablets. He wasn't sure if she had tea, so he put a few sachets in his bag, along with a lemon and some honey. That should do it.

When the soup finished cooking, he poured it into a bowl with a lid and tucked it under his arm. He approached Donna's door with a smile on his face and knocked softly.

No one answered, but he could hear her coughing inside. He knocked again. "Donna?"

"Who is it?" her weak voice called back from the other side of the door.

"It's me, John," he called back.

"Who?"

His smile fell. She didn't even know his name after all of this time spent living next to each other? "You know, your neighbor. John Smith. The doctor."

"What do you want?" She sounded decidedly grumpy.

Maybe this was a bad idea. "I just… I heard you coughing and wanted to check on you. I brought soup!"

At long last, the door clicked open, and he was face to face with Donna. She looked awful! Her skin was somehow even paler than usual, her eyes were surrounded by dark circles, and her usually lovely ginger hair was a tangled mess around her shoulders. She smelled a bit ripe too, if he were honest, and he wondered when she had last showered and changed her nightdress. "Thanks," she said, hoarsely, as she reached for the bowl of soup.

John didn't let go. "Actually, if you don't mind, I thought maybe I could come in for a bit and make sure you're okay. I've brought my stethoscope." She'd seen him in his doctor's coat on his way to or from work a million times, so he hoped she would trust him.

She looked him up and down, almost as if she were seeing him for the first time. "You work at that clinic on the other side of town, don't you?"

John nodded. "I do. Would you like to see my ID?" He didn't have it on him, but he would happily go back to his flat and get it if it would help ease her worries.

"No, that's all right. I guess you can come in." She turned and walked back into her flat, so he followed behind her and stepped into a well-decorated living room that faded into her kitchen, just like his did.

"Nice place," he said, as he sat the soup down on her kitchen table.

"Thanks." She sank down onto her sofa as a coughing fit overtook her. She covered her mouth as she hacked, her shoulders shaking as she gasped for breath. "Ugh."

"How long has this been going on?" John asked, as he sat down beside her.

"About a week," she replied, sighing. "I feel awful."

"You sound awful," he agreed. He rummaged around in his bag and pulled out his thermometer, holding it out. "Would you mind?"

She opened her mouth and let him put it under her tongue. When it beeped, he took it back and looked at the little display. "Oh, a bit of a fever. Thirty-eight point two."

Donna complied while he listened to her heart and lungs with his stethoscope, and while he felt of the lymph nodes in her neck, and then while looked down her throat with his mini keychain torch. "So, what's the diagnosis?" she asked, when he was finished.

John had good news for her. "Your lungs are clear, so it's not bronchitis or pneumonia. I think what we've got here is a bad upper respiratory infection caused by a virus. Antibiotics won't help, but my soup might." He grinned, feeling terribly relieved after having been so worried about her. "Shall I dish you some out?"

"Okay," she agreed.

"Great." He stood up to go do that, but there was a problem when he touched the bowl. "Oh, it's started to go cold. Tell you what, I'll reheat it while you go take a nice, warm shower."

"I'm fine," she said, shaking her head.

"The steam will help loosen up some of that mucus and make you feel better," he insisted.

"Why are you doing all of this for me?" Donna asked, as she stood from the sofa.

John shrugged. "It's Christmas and I thought maybe you needed some help. Now go on, take a shower. Doctor's orders."

Donna didn't say anything else, but he was pleased when she turned and walked off in the direction he assumed her bathroom was in. The sound of running water confirmed it a moment later, and he busied himself with finding a pot to warm the soup.

He had just finished sitting out a big bowl of soup and a tall glass of iced water on the kitchen table when Donna returned from her shower. She looked a million times better already with her hair in damp curls and a fresh nightdress on. "Feel better?" he asked.

"I do," she admitted, as she sat down at the table. She took a bite of soup. "Oh, this is delicious!"

John beamed at the praise, feeling warmed from head to toe. "Yeah? I'm glad to hear that. It's my world famous recipe."

"Is it? What countries serve it?" Donna teased with a wink. "And why aren't you having some?"

"Oh, I made the soup for you. I don't need any," he replied, with a shrug.

"But you brought enough to feed ten. Please have some." She frowned at him. "Besides, you look like you could use a bite to eat. Bit skinny, aren't you?"

"Oi!" He couldn't help but feel hurt as she insulted his slim frame.

"Well, it's true," she insisted.

"I come over here to take care of you, and this is the thanks I get?" he remarked, as he stood to get his own bowl of soup. He wouldn't lie, that stung a bit.

When he settled back down at the table, Donna reached out and gently touched his arm. "I'm sorry. I really didn't mean anything by it."

"S'okay," he mumbled.

"I get carried away sometimes, but I really would feel bad if you didn't have any soup after you took the time to make it for me." She smiled at him. "Thank you for thinking about me."

"You're welcome," he said, feeling better. He took a bite of his soup and smiled. "It is good, isn't it?"

"It's really good," she agreed. "I was supposed to go to my mum's for Christmas, but then I got this awful cold and knew I couldn't go. My poor Gramps tends to catch anything he's exposed to, and at his age..." She shrugged. "Anyway, I expected to be all alone today, so I'm glad you showed up and brought Christmas dinner along with you."

They fell into a comfortable conversation as they ate, talking about anything and everything. John found out that Donna worked as a temp, and that she was stressed out by the long hours and one of her current co-workers. That was why she'd never had time to stop and chat with him before. He shared stories about his work as a doctor, including some about the recent influx of people coming in for their flu jabs. "The adults are worse than the kids most of the time," he joked.

When the soup was gone and their bellies full, John knew he had one more thing to do before he left. "I brought some tea for you too," he told Donna, as he stood to find her kettle. "It's a special blend that should help open you up. I'll slice a lemon and leave you some honey, and I want you to add as much as you want to your tea and drink several cups a day."

"You really don't have to do that," Donna said.

"I want to," he said, as he added some water and pressed the button. "Oh, and there are some cold tablets and cough drops for you in my bag too."

He made her her first cup, and then decided that it was time for him to take his leave so that she could get some rest. "Merry Christmas, Donna. I hope you feel better soon, but if you don't, just remember that I'm right next door. Feel free to stop by anytime for some medical advice, or just to talk."

"Merry Christmas, and thanks for everything, John," Donna said, giving him a soft smile. "It's not often you find people like you in the world. You're very kind."

John blushed at that, feeling even his ears go red. He tugged at the left one. "Yeah, well… It's nothing, really."

"Oh, it's so much more than nothing," she insisted. "You know what, if you'll let me, I'd very much like to take you out to dinner as a way to say thank you."

John nodded. He'd love to spend more time with her. "That sounds great."

"Good," she said, grinning. "We'll have to plan something after I feel better."

John nodded as he walked back out into the hallway. "See you soon, Donna!" he said, with a little wave. After she closed the door behind him, he pumped his fist in the air. He'd had company for Christmas and set up a date with Donna Noble. Brilliant!