A/N: I've made a joke referring to the Channel 4 programme "Countdown". If you've ever seen the film "About A Boy" you'll have an idea what I'm on about.

Part 3

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He glanced at the bedside alarm clock and noted that Donna hadn't woken him once with any nightmares. Had she had any, he wondered. His movement to turn and look at the clock immediately roused her. "What's the time?" she mumbled into her pillow.

It was a good job he was fluent in mumble. "Half six," he replied. "Plenty of time to have a lie in. How did you sleep?"

"I closed my eyes and it came naturally," she replied.

"Funny cuts! I was asking about your nightmares," he griped.

She shifted against him, and he was alarmingly aware of the press of her body next to his. She propped herself up on one elbow to look down on him. "Not so bad, thanks to you," she told him. And then she completely surprised him by kissing him; on the cheek, but it had far reaching consequences, that he'd rather she knew nothing about. "What about you?" she asked him breathily; right next to his ear.

'Oh bloody hell!' he thought as her actions caused desire to pulse through him at a rate of knots. Perhaps this bed sharing lark hadn't been such a good idea after all. "I'm fine. Yes, I'm fine. Just dandy; you know." He did his level best to give her a noncommittal smile.

She snickered at him. "You've done it again, haven't you? You can't really tell you've never shared a bed with a woman before." She reached out to rub his shoulder in a consoling gesture. "Don't worry about it; it's perfectly natural."

"Not for me it isn't! I feel like a total letch! I'm not perving over you, honest I'm not," he defended himself.

"My poor baby!" Her hands worked their way up to cradling his head, and her lips were dangerously close to his again as they kissed his face. "All so new, and all so alien for you," she crooned softly.

That was the moment when he spoilt it by placing his hands on her bum and pulled her body flush with him. She must have felt every single part of him pressing up to her. Her reaction was to release him and shift away. "You'd better… go deal with that…," she stammered. "You'll be poking holes in the bottom sheet if you don't."

"Donna…," he tried to grab her attention, but she was retreating from his apology.

"Before you start, this is my fault," she cut him off. "I forget you're a man now and not… I shouldn't have physically teased you. I'll go make us some tea."

He watched her stumble out of their bed, both of them engulfed in their mutual embarrassment, and he wondered what the heck had really happened.

By the time they sat and ate breakfast things were back to normal. Just to show he was willing to forget the earlier bit of nonsense, he offered to take the bin bag they'd filled up with decorating rubbish down to the communal bins. As he reached the bottom of the stairs to return home he met one of their new neighbours walking her dog. It was one of those small white dogs such people often had, with scrawny fur and a terrier type face. "Morning!" Andy greeted her as brightly as he could.

She stood and considered him; her eyes looking particularly beady behind her large glasses. "Are you that new couple in number seven?" she eventually asked.

"Yes!" he replied in relief. "We moved in last Thursday. Donna said she'd always wanted to live here. The gardens have always looked lovely." He added in a bit of pointing, just in case.

"Hmm, lovely," the woman echoed.

"Where are my manners? I'm Andrew Noble, but you can call me Andy," he introduced himself, thrusting out his hand towards her. She shook it unenthusiastically. "And I live with Donna, Donna Noble. I'll have to bring her down later to introduce her to you properly... er…"

The woman looked taken by surprise. "I'm Jean," she reluctantly supplied. "Have you got any children?"

"Oh no! We… erm… no, not at the moment… no," he spluttered. That was a new experience! They'd never been asked if they had children before. "I'd erm… better go," he told her, and dashed up the stairs, and into the flat.

"Who set your trousers on fire?" Donna immediately asked when she saw how flustered he was.

He waved vaguely at the front door. "I've just met the woman from downstairs in number three. She was walking her dog," he explained, and took a gulp of air. "She wanted to know if we had any children. I don't think we've ever been asked that one before! It took me by surprise."

"It was only a question, you daft Earthboy!" She walked over and began to rub circles on his back to calm him down. "If people assume we are married then the next step is to assume we have children. Didn't you know that?"

He shook his head at her in reply. He was enjoying having her comfort him. Their outburst had done some good after all. "Why would she assume we are married?" he lamely asked.

"I take it that you told her our names; our full names?" she queried.

"Of course! That's how I always introduce us," he haughtily replied.

"Well that would be it then! Same name equals marriage in people's minds. You wanted conformity when you chose Noble, and you got it! So don't complain," she told him.

"I did that so that you wouldn't be thought of as a harlot," he protested.

"And it was terribly sweet of you," she said, tenderly stroking his cheek. "My knight in shining armour."

He blushed with embarrassed joy. "I only did what any decent man would do." He loosely wrapped his arms around her.

"Ah, but that's the point. There aren't many decent men about anymore. You are a very special person," she said.

"How special?" he asked, leaning in towards her.

She pondered that for a few seconds. "Special enough to deserve those cakes Mum bought you, with a cup of tea."

He tightened his embrace. "That is very special. Do I get anything else from you?"

She flickered her gaze downwards for a second. "The reason for another cold shower if you're not careful! You don't want to wear certain parts out before you get the chance to use them properly." She gave him a saucy smirk.

"Does that mean you think I will get a chance?" he asked with a disarmingly cheeky grin.

"I might be able to arrange something. Shall I go through my address book later to see if we can pick someone out for you?" she asked.

He had an overwhelming desire to yell 'No!' at her, but he couldn't put his finger on why. Taking a deep breath, he answered, "Why not? It might do me some good."

They parted then to make that promised tea.

Donna plumped the last cushion on the settee whilst Andy adjusted a photo of Wilf and a very young Donna on the mantelpiece. "Wasn't it lovely of your grandfather to get us a copy of that as a welcoming gift?" he mused, smiling at it fondly.

"You know, you can call him 'Gramps' now if you want to," Donna pointed out. "I'm sure he'd be delighted."

"Aw I'm sure he'd hate the idea," Andy replied with a blush. "And that would mean I'd have to call Sylvia 'Mum'."

"I'll ask her if you want me to," she offered. "She's developed quite a soft spot for you. And it's not a peat bog in Ireland."

"She has?" he declared in shocked tones. "I've no idea what I've done to deserve that."

"You've just been you," Donna suggested with a slight shrug. "Who knew miracles could happen." She sauntered over to stand next to him, and he wrapped an arm around her waist. "I'm surprised you weren't put off by the sight of me as a little kid."

"Why would I be? You were adorable! All those cute ginger curls," he enthused, beaming at her. "You're beautiful… I mean, you were beautiful."

She batted at his chest. "Hark at you with the flattery! What a shame we don't have a similar picture of you," she commented.

"Yeah," he answered with a sigh. "Still, if we ever…"

"We ever what?" she asked.

"If we ever find a boy that looks like me we'll have to nab him and take his photo," he suggested.

She scoffed at him. "We're more likely to get ourselves banged up for child snatching, you dimnoid!" She affectionately smoothed her fingers over his cheek.

He caught them with his free hand, and kissed her fingertips. "Would that be for escaping from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang?" He smirked at her, and she couldn't help returning it.

"Crimes against cars, eh?" she asked.

"Better than crimes of love, or crimes of passion," he countered.

"Amounts to the same thing judging by most of the blokes I've known," she retorted.

"Oh yeah? Don't you lump me in with that bunch of losers. I'm made of sterner stuff," he boasted.

"You wish!" She snorted at him.

He pushed his face at her. "I know so, Donna Noble! You forget I have an enviable pedigree."

She burst out laughing. "Isn't that sexy? My man is a pedigree dog."

"I'm your man, am I? When did I become that?" He was having too much fun now to let go of her.

"When I became your owner, Fido!" She stepped back as if anticipating something from him, and shrieked as he gave chase. "Now then; stay! There's a good boy!" she playfully ordered him.

He caught her in the bedroom, well; he almost caught her in the bedroom. They sort of hovered either side of the bed, eyeing each other cautiously. "You can't escape from me, you know," he warned her.

"Oh yeah?" she asked gleefully. "I'm over here and you're over there."

"Not for long," he told her, and stepped up onto the bed. "I'll catch you now!"

She screamed with delighted horror and ducked away from his hands, shaking her head at him. They were both giggling like idiots by the time he had her pinned up against the wardrobe. "Can't… breathe…," she stammered out.

"I'm not falling for that one! If I let you go you'll just run off," he answered, panting heavily.

She shook her head. "Won't," she responded. "I'll prove it to you."

He eyed her suspiciously. "If I let you go and you do a runner, I claim naming rights for your punishment."

"What do you want me to do?" she lifted her chin to ask him, knowing he'd have problems focusing once she did that.

"I…," he faltered as he became captivated by her full, ripe lips that looked ready to be plucked by him. "I…"

"I'll have a consonant please, Carol," she quipped. "I've got enough vowels."

"Ah, but can you solve the conundrum?" he joked back. He would have said something else, but she rubbed her nose along his, and he almost lost complete control. All he managed instead was to groan at her.

Her eyes shot open wide in surprise. "Did you just groan at me? Why the hell did you do that?"

His expression almost crumpled. "Donna! You know why. You did something to me," he admitted. "Oh bloody hell! This is agony! How do human men cope?"

She felt really bad then for teasing him so. "Not very well," she sympathised, rubbing his neck and shoulder in what she hoped was a safe way. "It's just a passing fancy. You'll get over it; I promise, once you learn how to control it."

"How do I do that?" he demanded. But Donna's answer was interrupted by the front door being knocked on. "Who the hell is that?"

"I'll find out," she offered, and dodged under his arm to race open the door. She was greeted by the sight of a woman of advanced age wearing owlish glasses. "Can I help you?" Donna greeted her.

"Yes," the woman replied. "I was talking to your husband this morning, and I don't like to complain but…" She then spotted Andy and addressed her query to him. "Can you two keep your sex life a bit quieter, please? I couldn't hear Antiques Roadshow."

"Sorry, Jean," Andy immediately apologised. "We were just messing about. We'll keep it down in future."

"Thanks!" She nodded gratefully at them both, and then made her way back down the stairs.

They waited politely for her to disappear from earshot before bursting into self-conscious laughter against the closed door. "Now that is one I'm not telling Mum," Donna giggled.

"Definitely not," he readily agreed. "Now about your punishment…"