a/n: Short chapter, but quick update! Hope it's a decent tradeoff.

Steady as the Beating Drum
Chapter 7: Maisie Insists

X

"Hi there Doctor," chimed Donna as she entered the office at eight on the dot on Monday morning. "I brought us a spot of lunch today, had some leftovers from mum."

Maisie laughed and accepted the proffered Tupperware. "Thought you were free!"

"I may have my own flat now but I will never be free from Sunday dinners."

They good-naturedly chatted for a little while longer before going about their day.

Later, a little before lunch, Dr. Smith got off the phone and was off like a shot into the outer office. She sat herself on the edge of Donna's desk and fixed her with a penetrating stare.

"Oh shit. What did I screw up?" cried Donna. She anxiously began looking through her notes. Typical. And she'd been handling herself to well lately, she was even taking her medication regularly!

"Nothing, you just forgot to tell me something extremely important."

"Oh no." Donna felt sick.

"It's your birthday tomorrow?"

What.

Donna flushed bright red even as her heart hammered in her chest. "Where did you hear that?"

"Got it from Joshua," triumphed Maisie.

This made Donna inexplicably uncomfortable. "I don't remember telling him that." Then again, they talked so much who could remember?

"He says you mentioned your last birthday at lunch the other day and he pieced it together."

There was something very very weird about this conversation.

"We're going to take you out. Do you have plans tomorrow?"

Unless Donna planned something herself, her birthday usually passed with little incident beyond whatever sized deal her grandfather decided to make about it. This year she had neither the energy nor inclination to set something up. "Free as a bird," she sighed.

"Perf, bring something nice to the office and we'll go from here."

"What about Jane? It'll be Tuesday." Jane spent every Tuesday and Thursday in the office.

Maisie waved her hand, untroubled. "Don't worry about it. Sounds alright to you though?"

"Yeah, sure. I'd love to." She knew she sounded less than enthused but the Good Doctor did not seem to notice.

2009 (but not)

Life aboard the Tardis was hard to keep track of. In the beginning Donna had kept a calendar in her room where she'd made arbitrary marks to count out the days, but she'd quickly lost track of days passing at all. She sort of just slept when she was tired- which wasn't often or regular. She was always too excited and anxious to move on to the next new world or time.

So when she woke up one morning to find the Doctor standing over her she screamed. Just a little.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN HERE SPACEMAN!?"

"Brought you breakfast," he said, untroubled. He had a big stupid grin on his face and looked oddly well groomed.

"…why."

"Weeeeell," he drawled, "thought it'd be a nice thing to do for your birthday."

"Do you celebrate birthdays on Mars?"

"For the last time, Donna: I'm not-" he sighed, "you know what? Never mind. Lots to do, big day planned." He placed the tray he'd been holding on her lap and leapt into bed beside her.

She covered her mouth in an effort to not slay him with her morning breath. "Thanks." All her favorites. She hadn't thought he'd been paying attention. She took a bite of strawberry waffle and positively moaned in pleasure. "Didn't know you could cook."

"I'm 904. I've figured it out."

"It's kind of hard to eat with the bed bouncing," she pointed out, bumping shoulders with him.

"Sorry," he had the decency to look a little chagrined. "I'm just excited."

"Where are we going?"

This was his favourite part, "First, beach day. No trouble, no running. Just a warm beach with an ozone layer intact enough that you won't turn into a to-mah-to," he enunciated, chuckling with good humor. "Then dinner on a satellite orbiting above a ringed planet. Then… guess."

"I'm not guess-"

"Las Vegas!"

"Which one?"

"What do you mean which one?"

"Well there's a New New New New New New New York. One was in France. Another was a whole other planet. Another, a solar system. So I ask again; which Las Vegas?"

"Weeeeell, there's actually only one Las Vegas. In 2202 it exploded."

"Wot?"

"Big mess, not a pretty affair, but no one wanted to invest in another one. It got a real bad reputation after the 2040 mutated syphilis outbreak."

Donna hummed in stunned acknowledgement; sometimes it was better not to ask.

When she was done eating and the Doctor had finished picking at her leftovers she got out of bed and stretched. The Doctor didn't move.

Donna sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that morning and began tapping her foot. He still wasn't getting the hint. Oh well, sod subtlety. "You gonna stay here while I change into my swimsuit?"

"I-I-I- um, no. No no no. I'm going to um-" his eyes were wide with fright and astonishment. In all honesty, the best gift he could have given her was this chance to poke fun at him. For a 907-year-old alien he could be such a kid. And such a bloke.

"Don't hurt yourself Spaceman. I'll meet you in the console room."

Back in the 2011 Cardiff quantum helix in which the Doctor was 'presently' stuck, his patience was dwindling by the minute.

"So I take it that this shoots out of the vortex every loop," he all but growled.

"Actually," Martha corrected. "Something shoots out of the vortex every loop."

The Doctor looked down at the piece of metal that had beaned him in the head. "You mean you don't know what this is?" he asked with contempt. "It's a discombobulator."

"I know what a discombobulator is. It's just not always a discombobulator. Yesterday it was a holophone. The day before it was just junk. We could have told you this if you just asked." The litany of frustrated insults went unspoken.

"Well… shut up."

"Is that your new thing? 'Shut up?' I almost like the French better."

The Doctor chose to ignore her allusion to catchphrases. Sometime he just did not understand himself and the decisions he had made in the past. (Usually he felt this way about his wardrobe, I mean really, celery? But sometimes he remembered the stupid things he used to say. 'Timey wimey' for one thing. He shuddered to think!)

"So the rift on our side opens only at exactly 12:47 and twelve seconds. Different items fall through, which means there is change on the other side of the rift. So the quantum helix is spatially finite. Oh that is good! Very good! So we just need to see how far it springs."

"So if we drive far enough we'll eventually leave the time loop?" asked Mickey

"It's not a-!" The Doctor huffed and deflated, "No, if we leave the field then we'd be out of sync with the rest of time."

"And what does that mean?"

"You know how sometimes people think they see ghosts?" Martha chimed in. "It's that, poor souls just a moment out of time with the rest of us." She shivered. "I saw some things when I was working for UNIT."

"And if we were outside the loop when it came around again?" asked Mickey, shifting his gaze back and forth between his wife and the madman.

"We'd be out of sync forever," confirmed the Doctor.

"Great! New plan then."

Next time: Donna comes to a startling realization and Martha and Mickey are sick making.

So I finally took a look at the Doctor Who frontpage of FFnet. It's so strange, is it just me or has the fandom shrunk? There are almost no fics for Twelve at all! I'm new to the fic side of the fandom, has it always been this way?

Anyway, drop me a line to let me know how you're enjoying the story.

Cheers,

Fiercy