A/N: I wrestled to keep this within the usual rating.

Part 6

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After a good two minutes of crying, Donna suddenly realised that she was approaching this from completely the wrong angle. Since when did she play the victim, for anybody?! No, bugger doing that. She had questions and she was going to get answers, even if she died in the attempt.

Shifting her Peugeot into gear, she executed a three-point turn in the narrow lane and headed determinedly back into the farm yard.

Everything looked as she had left it, so she squidged her way back across the mud to the farm building that held John's office, and marched right in. Half expecting it to be deserted, she was surprised to find him still cringing on the small brown leather sofa that sat in there; its previous occupation by a mound of papers shoved aside onto the floor to allow him to half recline on its comfort.

If he had been able to jerk up out of his seat he would have done. John had spent the intervening time berating himself and fending off his own bout of crying. Could he have been more stupid by frightening off Donna in that way? Seeing her reappear was rather wonderful and heartening. Did this mean he hadn't totally ballsed things up between them? If you pardoned the phrase. That part of his anatomy still hurt, stopping any sudden possible movements from him. Her storming in caused his heart to race wildly in his chest and he waited to find out what she would do next. As it is, he managed to look both pleased and terrified. "You're back! Donna, I feel sick," he declared, hoping it'd elicit some sympathy rather than a further attack.

"You would do," she agreed without much empathy, although she could feel the beginnings of the emotion starting to wash over her. 'Stay strong,' she told herself, 'hold onto the anger.' "I need to know," she continued, "why you think I'm some sort of tart. Is that why you didn't contact me?"

With a nod of his head he sheepishly replied, "In a way; but I got swamped under by some news Dad had. What with that and Jack saying he had arranged for you to come onto me, well..." He really didn't want to explain any more than that at the moment, especially if she was merely going to hit him again.

What news; and Jack? "Who the hell is Jack, and what has he got to do with me?!" she demanded.

The wince from him didn't go unnoticed as he remained in a defensive position.

"He used to be my friend," John explained bitterly. "But he told me it would be fun to arrange an escort for me, and sort of... Actually he did more than that. The arse said it was you."

"Why the...!" Words failed Donna as she tried to get her head around this new development. "You tell him when I meet him he is dead! I'll kill him with my bare hands and then rip him into shreds to feed his pathetic body to the lions at London Zoo!" she fumed, scrunching her hands into fists.

The trouble was she didn't manage to hold onto her anger because she noticed he was still clutching himself protectively, obviously in pain still, judging by his soulful eyes. Such beautiful eyes that pierced her heart. All of her fire started to melt away as though it had never been.

"I'm sorry I ever believed him for a second," John began to apologise, in order to build bridges between them. "Not just because of the whole slapping and kneeing business, which I think you were right to do and be angry about despite me personally being the target, obviously, but before he opened his big mouth we, that's you and me, were getting on so well."

"We were," she confirmed as her anger completely ebbed away. "Why didn't you just phone me and ask?"

His eyes turned sadder as he looked up at her. "I wanted to ask you face to face, so that I'd know it was the truth when you said you weren't one of those women. I'm just some stupid sod who spends his days talking to sheep, so what do I know about talking to someone as beautiful as you? And Donna, I…," his voice petered out.

Oh sod it! Who was she kidding? She couldn't stay annoyed with him when he looked so pathetic and regretful. In one swift movement, she crouched down in front of him, and ignored the sudden look of terror that flashed on his face when she placed her hands on his knees. "What do I do to make it up to you?"

"You could kiss it better," he blurted out and then blushed. "I er… meant in general, and not my…" Now thoroughly embarrassed, he then stopped clutching himself to halt any further misunderstanding.

The daft bugger! How she stopped herself from laughing out loud at him she would never know. "A kiss?" she queried, and leaned in closer; pleased when he involuntarily sought to meet her halfway.

"It could work," he murmured as their lips hovered within millimetres of each other. "Please," he softly begged. Then he crossed that last gap to try again with a kiss that would capture her interest. "To say sorry."

"Sorry," she whispered, and landed on those tempting lips of his; especially that bottom one.

"So sorry," he echoed as he opened up to her. "Please forgive me."

They kissed tenderly for several seconds, breaking apart to draw breath and note with delight that they were wrapped around each other's body. Smiling his encouragement, John pulled backwards causing Donna to stay closer, so that she had to follow him onto the settee and almost land in his lap. Adjusting her legs over his own, he returned to enjoying her lips, smoothing his fingers over her cheek and then through her hair as his mind contemplated other places to explore later on. Time would tell if he would ever get the chance to do so again.

"I am so sorry I made you cry," he whispered into her ear as he kissed along her jawline.

"What made you think I cried?" she defensively asked. There was no way in hell that she'd admit that one.

He wisely let that one go. Did it really matter that he could see where her mascara had run when she'd obviously wiped her eyes? Instead, he felt guilty for upsetting her so; she hadn't deserved that at all. What she did deserve was a hug, so he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close to his chest, holding her there for several minutes.

"Watch it. At this rate I'll think you like me," Donna muttered self-consciously. It didn't stop her melting into his embrace; enjoying it thoroughly.

He sniffed a laugh. "Perhaps I do. Enough to want to take you out tomorrow night, if you'd let me."

"I'd like that," she shyly agreed.

Delighted by her response, he pressed his mouth onto her lips again, feeling a warmth spread through his body as they shared open-mouthed kisses that were slowly building in passion. His earlier pain now forgotten, all his body wanted to do was scream at him to make love to her at the first opportunity.

"God, you're sexy," he breathily uttered.

"I'm surprised you can think such a thing, considering what I did to you. Does it still hurt?" she enquired. Inevitably her hand smoothed down from his shoulders, over his chest and stomach, to end up on the front of his trousers. "Oh! Well at least it's in full working order," she remarked with embarrassment.

An amorous groan escaped his lips; and he clamped a hand over hers to keep it where it was. "Very. Now do you believe me?" He huffed out a few breaths, and then tightly told her, "I think we'd better go and have this tea with Mum before I try to ravish you."

"Perhaps we should." Donna then giggled nervously.

Verity had come out of the farmhouse, wondering where John had got to and needing to know he was alright, when she spotted the little blue Peugeot sitting back in their farm yard. What on earth had happened? Expecting fireworks of some sort, she sneaked up to the grimy window of the farm office and peeked in.

Oh my! She brought up a hand to cover her mouth in shock.

Inside were two blurs moving over each other on the small settee, obviously kissing each other fervently. Fortunately the view wasn't clearer than that; so Verity quickly walked away to phone Jocasta with the good news.

"Hello, pet," Verity greeted the sight of John when he stepped in through the kitchen door. "No Donna with you?"

He hastily smoothed down his hair, only for it to leap back up again. "Oh erm… no. She said sorry, by the way; she had to get back."

Verity hid a smile at his distracted demise. If Donna was as dishevelled as he looked no wonder she didn't want to go back into the farmhouse. "Never mind. Perhaps another day. I'll make us some tea and then you can get that engine fixed up."

"I'd clean forgotten about that," he admitted. "I won't be able to go anywhere if I don't."

Verity tsked at his forgetfulness, and wondered if she ought to tell Jocasta about this snippet too.

It had been arranged to meet up the following night, with the possibility of seeing this infamous Jack, and Donna could hardly wait to tear a piece out of him; slimey git! Thinking of him only made her want to throttle someone, and she had other things to worry about. Like what to what to tell Jocasta about her trip. There had been an overly keen interest to know when Donna had returned back to Lilac Cottage. Goodness knew why. Except there was more than a possibility Jocasta's interest had to do with a certain book she was planning to write. There had been much fencing off questions about details.

Anyway, Donna thought she had finally satisfied Jocasta's curiosity by the time John had phoned her after taking his evening class. They'd had a lovely long chat, talking about this and that; nothing world shattering or insightful. Just your normal babble between two people who thought they might be overheard.

As it happened they were correct, because Jocasta was trying to surreptitiously earwig their conversation. Such situations require shortcuts and special codes to retain privacy and cause confusion.

A few hours into her working day Donna was typing away from her notes, trying to not laugh at the stupidity of Meredith Forsythe when encountering Barnaby Pemberton. "Good grief, girl! Have some dignity," she mumbled as she finished a paragraph. That was when her mobile phone rang, so she absently answered it without thinking to check who was calling her.

"Hello, Donna," a very smooth and educated male voice greeted her.

It couldn't be him, it just couldn't! She almost dropped the phone in shock. "What… what do you want?" she asked after some seconds.

"Why, I wanted you, Donna," he easily answered. "I was surprised you disappeared into the ether in the way you did."

"Oh did you?!" she wanted to rant. "How unlike you to be surprised by my behaviour. Look, I'm very busy and you are disturbing me from carrying out my duties. Why don't you go and bother someone else. Ooh, I don't know, maybe someone who actually works for you would be a start."

"That is part of my reason for contacting you," he continued their conversation without a hint of apology.

"What do you mean?" she inevitably asked.

"I need you, Donna."

Her heart threatened to thump its way out of her chest. "You need me?" You could have struck her down with a feather.

There was an indrawn breath. "It pains me to say this, but yes."

How long had she waited for him to say these words? Far too long, and the prick could still get to her. "You'd better run the idea passed your secretary for approval then, as I know she has the final say with these things. Goodbye."

She was feeling quite pleased with herself by the time she ended the call; especially because he was frantically calling out her name. Yeah, make him wait.