A/N: it really helps if you have seen some of DT's recent projects when you read this, but not vital.

Part 7

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A floorboard creepily creaking outside the doorway and then the sound of Jocasta's voice made Donna almost jump out of her skin in fright. It was the sort of thing he used to do. "Is everything alright, Donna? I thought I heard raised voices." She then noted Donna was clutching herself in fear and moved nearer, into the office, to offer some moral support.

"Sorry, Jocasta. It was only me on the phone to…" Then to her absolute horror, she burst into tears.

"Donna, dear, what is it?" Jocasta burst forward to place a consoling hand on Donna's shoulder and then passed her a tissue from a box that sat on a shelf. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Not really," Donna admitted as she sniffed back her tears, hating the fact this had happened. "I'm just shocked that he has bothered to contact me after all this time."

"John?" Jocasta guessed. "But I thought you had already spoken to him."

"No, it was my ex-boss who called. Oh god, I am so stupid!" Donna berated herself and then dabbed at her eyes. "Why do I let him get to me, every time? Let's not talk about him. He is a first class arse."

"What did he do to you?" Jocasta asked kindly.

"Nothing much." Donna sarcastically dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "Only brought in some young blonde who couldn't find the first letter of her name on a keyboard, made me spend every waking moment training her up, chucked me out of his office, took her into his bed, and then gave her my job." There was a fervent blowing of the nose. "Not much at all really, the swine! And he has the cheek to phone me up out of the blue and claim he needs me. I ask you; what sort of bloke does that?!"

Jocasta pursed her lips in disapproval. "The worse sort."

Donna shook her head in disbelief. "He's an out and out bastard! To think I was in love him. Me?! I needed my bloody head examining."

"Perhaps you could distract yourself by contacting John…" Jocasta stopped speaking when Donna set a withering look on her.

"That'd do me no good because he has business meetings with the bank and that today." She sighed and searched around for her handbag. Grabbing it up, she declared, "I'm going out for a walk, to clear my head. Is there anything you want from the village shop?"

"Perhaps a nice cake or bun to have with our lunch," Jocasta suggested for something to say.

"Yeah, something huge, gooey and chocolate," Donna remarked, somewhat weepily. "I can eat what I bloody like now." When Jocasta frowned at her in confusion, she added, "He would disapprove of me even touching a piece of chocolate, and look down that haughty nose of his at me. Well, he can swivel on it for all I care!"

The only thing Jocasta could do was gape as Donna huffed away, determined to buy something heavily laden with calories.

The village shop wasn't too far away from Lilac Cottage, but it was the first time since she had been there that Donna had properly ventured into the shop. Of course she had gone in there on her first day, just to get her bearings in the village and have a nose around, like you do. She decided to divert her thoughts onto what she could possibly say to Jack when she hopefully got to see him that evening. John had said he'd arranged to meet him, and she could hardly wait. What part of Jack should she attack first? Her imagination had fun running riot with that one.

It was quite a pleasant, sunny day as she headed across towards the village green; and she idly wondered what it would look like full of some local men playing a game of cricket in their cricketing whites. She wasn't fond of cricket, but she rather liked the traditional sportswear they wore for the game. Give her a decent game of football any day of the week if she was going to be forced to sit through something. For a start, it ended a lot quicker, and the blokes were more buff; not that she was shallow enough to only care about the visuals. She'd had many a happy trip with Gramps to a game at Upton Park where West Ham United play at home.

As she neared the small building that housed the village shop a large Range Rover was parked outside on the opposite side of the road, and Donna had to peep around it to check there was nothing coming. Feeling fairly confident the coast was clear after two cars and a van, she stepped out, only to be tooted by a large black Mercedes that narrowly missed hitting her.

"Look where you're going, you stupid prat! Other people use the road," she shouted out.

The car instantly screeched to a halt, and a rear window wheezed its way down as it fully opened. Expecting be have abuse hurled at her, Donna readied herself to go on the defensive. Instead an extremely familiar head peered out at her.

"Ah, there you are," he stated, rather calmly given the circumstances.

Donna just stood there stunned for some seconds. It was him! He must have phoned her whilst travelling in this car. "Roderick?! What on earth are you doing here?" she blurted out her questions.

"I'm here on business," Roderick succinctly told her, and eyed her up and down. "Why are you here?"

"I was just going to the shop," she stated, pointing towards the shop in front of her.

"Oh yes, I'd forgotten it was there," he remarked to himself. He then tapped the driver of the Mercedes on the shoulder. "Pull over there for a moment please, William."

"Yes, sir," the driver replied, and the car moved slowly and smoothly into a better stopping position. "Is there anything else?"

"Wait for me," Roderick ordered, and began to climb out to meet Donna.

Roderick Peterson was a tall, lithe, unconventionally handsome man who did everything smoothly and efficiently. Usually he wore all black, and today was no different. Underneath his tailored jacket he wore a polo neck jumper that was supposed to give him an air of casualness but merely highlighted his austerity. To add to the effect, he wore black horn-rimmed glasses and had his dark brown hair Brylcreamed back out of harm's way. 'Slick' was a word many used to describe him but he would have much preferred to be called 'superior'; that suited him far better in his mind.

Before him stood Donna Noble, his ex-employee, once trusted friend and confidante. Not that it had been an easy decision to get rid of her from his employ; she had been an extremely good worker, he had to admit. Many the time he had called upon her to work extra hours in order to help him out with some project or other as he planned his latest tour. Music was his life, and he took it very seriously; insisting on many hours of continuous practise from his choristers.

Next on the cards was an entirely different project for him to consider, and the skills Donna had shown in the past would be extremely useful to him, if he could only lure her into assisting him again. One thing you could say in Donna's favour, she always was well presented, in both looks and style. His father had once remarked that she was a valued asset to the company, and he had soon discovered during her absence that this was true, despite him not wanting to admit the veracity of this. A lesser man would have been ashamed of using her obvious crush on him to his advantage, but Roderick was only focused on his career; nothing else mattered in comparison. He had to be successful and top dog, there was no other option, and it didn't matter who he stepped on to get there. That was what he had been taught, and that was how he lived his life. Every last second of it. It had brought him a great deal of success in his chosen field; a success he was determined to hang on to.

Things could have gone further with Donna, there was an undeniable quality about her that attracted him immensely, but it would have distracted him away from his life goals. There was no way she could be a mere affair; instead she was the type of woman you invested in body and soul whereas the delightfully flirty Daisy was a dalliance that filled the odd spare moment. It was convenient, and that was what concerned him, since it required no investment from him personally.

Watching Roderick almost glide across the road towards her, Donna was struck by the usual pangs of regret that she normally felt when she saw him; but this time it was different. Her feelings for him had lessened quite a lot, to her surprise and delight. There was still an animalistic sexuality to his fluid movements that she could appreciate, but their power over her had decreased dramatically.

"Hello Rod," she deliberately greeted him as he got near enough to speak easily to in private. "How are you?"

"It's Roderick," he reminded her as anger flashed momentarily in his eyes. He may do menacing but he never indulged in angry tantrums. "I trust you are well?"

"Yes, very," she politely replied, and then waited to see where he would steer the conversation he so obviously wanted.

He merely peered imperially at her. "I have need of your skills, Donna, and would like to offer you some employment."

'How charming,' she thought sarcastically. "Sorry, but I am already working for someone."

A heavy frown instantly appeared on his face as he glared unblinkingly at her. "Who? I'm sure we could come to some arrangement," he silkily suggested.

"Look, Rodders, I cannot work for you. I have signed a contract and everything, so you'll just have to look for someone else. Someone like… ooh, I dunno… Daisy, perhaps?" she impishly wondered.

There was a slight flaring of his nostrils to indicate he was not pleased so far. "Daisy has limited talents, as you know full well; and she has remained in London," he almost flatly stated.

'Bully for her,' Donna whined in her head. "Yes, extremely limited in some departments. Shame she couldn't join your little jamboree, Rodders."

"It is Roderick," he pithily restated.

Ooh, she liked riling him in this way. It was fun! "That's what I said. You get far too uptight about your name. I know; you should go and relax somewhere! How does that sound? Take that stick out of your..."

"Donna!" he warned. "I'll take my leave. Perhaps you will change your mind later. You know how to contact me." Roderick turned then and walked swiftly back to his car.

"I wouldn't count on it," she mumbled to herself, and crossed over the pavement to enter the shop, uncaring whether his car had left or not.

John returned from checking up on their flock of sheep and entered the farmhouse, absolutely dreading this business meeting. It could prove to be the end of their time on the farm for ever, and he knew how that would shatter his father's dreams. As for himself, he was sure he would be able to find something to occupy his time over the coming years; the college had already hinted that they would like him to work more hours, and that was the silver lining to all this mess. Whether he actually wanted to become a fulltime lecturer was another matter. But when needs must you do your duty; that had long been his dad's mantra.

"Hurry up, John," Verity fussed around him, "we need to get going. Have you got your clean shirt?"

"Yes, Mum," he answered, and pointed to where it lay. "I won't be too long cleaning up, I promise."

"Don't be," his father chimed in as he adjusted his tie. "They won't wait for us."

"It would be hard for them to do anything without us," John muttered under his breath, but fortunately his dad didn't hear him. Good. Things would only have got worse if he had.

"Welcome, Mr Smith," the solicitor greeted them by shaking John's hand. "Are these your parents?"

"Yes, this is Dad, Sydney Smith; and Mum, Verity Smith," John made the introductions. "I'm John, but you might already know that, Mr Warner. Has our Ricky turned up yet?"

"He contacted our office to say he has been slightly delayed but should be with us presently. While you wait would you like a tea or coffee?" Mr Warner offered them all, and called out to the nearest office worker to supply three fresh teas.

They generally chitchatted for the next ten minutes as they sipped their tea and waited anxiously for John's cousin Ricky to arrive. It was fairly obvious when he did, because there was a general clamour from outside the office, a hubbub of excited voices, and then he strode in looking quite refreshed. Immediately he greeted Verity with a kiss on the cheek, and shook the hand of first Sydney and then John before shaking Mr Warner's. "Hello, I'm Roderick Peterson; you must be Simon Warner," he greeted the solicitor.

A/N2: just in case you are not sure, Roderick Peterson is the choir leader featured in the film "Nativity 2: Danger In The Manger"