A/N: sorry, my muse insisted that I added to this one, thanks to a jealousy prompt I saw.

Part 2

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"Well hello!" a cool voice greeted Donna as she carelessly swung the basket held her hand as she perused the breakfast goods in the small supermarket that lay close to her student digs.

Turning in the aisle to see who it was, she instantly recognised him as one of her lecturers. "Morning, Dr Capaldi. Fancy seeing you around here," she greeted him.

He peered into her basket. "A little excessive considering your condition last night," he noted on seeing several packs of meats.

"What this?" she queried, indicating her head towards the basket contents. "It isn't all for me. I volunteered to make everyone breakfast."

"Very commendable, my dear," he replied.

Feeling his intense gaze still upon her, she quickly offered, "There's more than enough if you fancy joining us." He was bound to decline, but it was worth making the gesture.

"That is very kind of you. I would love to." He beamed at her in pleasure. "In that case, let me spare your stretched finances and this shall be my treat," he insisted, taking hold of the basket from her hand. His expression was one that brooked no argument.

"Well, if you insist," she acquiesced as she picked up some extra bread for toast and followed him to the till.

Her cheerfulness took a dip when he pulled out some incriminating items from the basket and placed them on the cashier's conveyor belt. "Are these yours?" he wondered.

"Oh! You don't have to pay for them; I was asked to pick them up for my friend," she hastily apologised, feeling mortified under his judgemental stare. "I'll deal with it."

"John Smith, I presume," he correctly guessed, and handed over enough bank notes to cover the cost. "Never mind. He can thank me later."

~o~

She was dishing up their full English breakfast that could technically be called a brunch, when John finally reappeared in the kitchen, having smelt the delicious aroma of cooked bacon. Without noticing their guest who sat at the table with their back to him, John managed to sidle up to Donna.

"We need to talk," he said as quietly as he could, getting as close as possible; but not entering her personal space.

Without looking at him, she replied, "No we don't," and stepped around him to take plates to the table. "Did you get your tablets okay?"

He nodded his thanks, mentally noting that the pain was dissipating. "We… Argh!" he exclaimed in shock as he turned and spotted Dr Capaldi sitting midway through eating his plateful.

"Good morning, Smith," Dr Capaldi greeted him. "Are you feeling any better?"

John's head swung towards Donna in confusion. "What?!"

"He spotted your hangover cure in my shopping basket," she supplied, "and he kindly offered to treat us to breakfast so I invited him over. Is that alright with you?"

"Yes, that's fine," John faintly answered as he took in the presence of almost all his housemates. "Thank you for the tablets. I feel much better." This was going to be more difficult than he had first thought.

Not knowing what else to say for a second, he sat himself down at the table.

"Here you go, Jack," Donna pleasantly announced as a full plate was placed in front of him. "I'll get ours, John."

"There's no need," he started to insist, but within seconds a plate appeared before him and then she sat down with her own plate, next to him. "Donna, we really do need to erm.. talk," he hissed.

But she was still averting her gaze, refusing to make eye contact. "No we don't", she repeated in a tiny sing-song voice. "There is nothing to discuss," she asserted.

"What's not to be discussed?" Jack inevitably asked, his interest piqued. "Are you two arguing again?"

"Just a minor disagreement," Donna cheerily responded.

"If you say so." John scowled at her. "But you still have my notes," he tightly stated.

"Ooh, your notes," she slowly remarked as realisation hit her. THAT was all he was interested in. The rest of it was a mere trifle; some notch on his bedpost and a future late night tale to laugh at with his mates. "I'll give them to you after we've eaten."

"This breakfast was delightful," Dr Capaldi remarked as he finished his meal and sat back with some satisfaction. "It was worth running into you."

"Yes, it's really good!" Martha enthused as she viewed her own plateful. "You should do this more often."

"Thank you; you're welcome. This might be the last time I do this, I don't plan on rustling up any more hangover cures," Donna answered, picking up her own set of cutlery in order to start eating. "Those days are over. I have to concentrate on revising for my exams."

"Not all the time, eh," John joked, trying to lighten the mood between them. It didn't work.

"Some of us aren't as clever as you," she remarked, "so we have to actually work at getting a decent pass."

"Hey hey hey!" Jack admonished her. "Play nicely at the table, please. We know you've got a hangover but there's no need to take it out on us."

"Sorry everyone," she contritely replied. "What must you think of me, Dr Capaldi? I'm err… feeling a little bit delicate today."

Dr Capaldi smiled encouragingly at her. "That would be my fault for plying you with drinks last night. I shall have to make it up to you."

Martha exchanged a puzzled look with Jack. What exactly was going on? John was merely looking grim as he focused his attention onto his plate and not whatever was happening between Donna and the lecturer.

"Yes, we've noticed how fragile you are this morning." Jack then flashed Donna his megawatt smile in reassurance. "I'm sure with John's help you'll ace that exam."

She stole a glance towards John, wondering if he'd ever want to spend time with her again. "If he wants to that'd be lovely, but he shouldn't have to worry about me."

"As your friend he should," Dr Capaldi stated, "but if he is unwilling to help, then by all means drop by my office. You are welcome at any time."

John lifted his head to glare at their visitor from under his long fringe.

"That's very kind of you," Donna answered, placing her hand onto John's thigh to stop him acting on any angry impulse.

"Anything to help my ablest students," Dr Capaldi pleasantly vowed; and then pushed his chair away from the table. "If you will excuse me, it was lovely to meet you all but I have to get back to my work."

Donna rose from her chair too. "I'll see you out."

From inside the kitchen they all heard him say, "Thank you, Donna dear, for providing such good company and a wonderful meal."

What they didn't know was that he also kissed her cheek as he left the house.

She returned to the kitchen with a crimson blush on her cheeks. "That was different," she remarked.

"He seems nice," Martha commented, noting the flush. "Is there something going on we should know about?"

"Not really," Donna cagily replied. "I think."

Before anything else could be asked, she began to collect used plates and took them to the sink.

It was with interest that Jack watched her bustle about. "Did you know he was coming?" he asked John.

"No," John insisted. "It was all news to me. I don't really understand why he came here."

"Well, he paid for breakfast, so you should all be grateful," Donna defended their guest, nearing the table again.

"What else is he willing to pay for?" he blurted out. John knew it was wrong for him to have said that the moment it left his mouth, but his brain wasn't willing to take the blame yet.

Hurt burst across her face, and her nostrils flared in indignation as she bunched her hands up into fists; ready to strike at any second. "I…"

Instead of striking out, as they'd all expected, Donna fled from the room and could be heard stomping up the wooden stairs.

"Go after her, you plank!" Martha grumbled at John when he still sat there like a numpty. "You owe her an apology for that."

Jack indicated with his eyes that John should do as Martha requested; leaving him with no option.

"Yeah, I'll do that," John agreed, and quickly got up to follow Donna. "Right away."

"Something really fishy is going on here," Jack commented as they watched him go. "What do you think it is?"

"I dunno," Martha admitted, "but somebody seems a bit jealous."

~o~

When John reached the top of the stairs, Donna was in his bedroom, slamming down a set of papers onto his desk.

"There you go, mon Capitan. One set of notes, as promised. Payment fully paid," she huffed on seeing him.

"What?!" he exclaimed. "There's no need to be like this."

She rounded on him. "Oh isn't there? You've made it very clear how you feel about me."

He tried to stop her pushing passed him, but she easily shoved him out of the way.

Undeterred, John followed her into her bedroom. "Please, Donna," he begged. "Listen to me. You're not being reasonable."

"Don't I always have to listen where you are concerned?" she retaliated. "Everything I do is never good enough for you, old Mr High-and Mighty." She flailed her hands about in emphasis. "I get the picture, but you're off the hook now. You're free to chase after that little blonde you fancy down in Hendricks. I won't get in your way. It's all been sorted."

"What do you mean, it's all been sorted?" he petulantly queried.

"Dr Capaldi has arranged it so that I can work in the science faculty once our exams are over and I'm technically qualified. It will be mainly paperwork to start with but he says there's plenty of opportunity to get promoted. And the best part is that I don't have to go back and live with my mother. I can get accommodation on campus again if I want."

"But… but… Why? You can't do that," John fretted, his hands finding their own path up into his hair; and he tugged on it helplessly. "No, that's wrong." He practically spun on the spot.

Donna watched his dance of woe and frowned. "Why can't I? It's a job, doing what I love, living where I want to, and I get out of your hair. I thought you'd be pleased," she slowly defended herself. "How is that wrong?"

He would have explained how wrong, but in that second he spotted a foil sealed box lying on her bedside table.

"You bought condoms," he gasped out in surprise.

To his dismay, a deep blush crept up her neck and over her face. "Not exactly. Dr Capaldi paid for them along with the shopping. I never asked him to," she stated with a self-deprecating shrug. "He just did."

At that, John seemed to get even more agitated than ever, before finally plonking himself down onto the bed to sit with his head hung low in misery. "I told you Dr Capaldi had a thing for you, but you didn't believe me. And now he's gone buying you stuff and arranged all this, and you're leaving me to be…"

"To be what?" she demanded in confusion. "It shouldn't exactly be a bloody big surprise that I'd go and get a job on my own and move away once the course finished. Or did you conveniently block that fact out, seeing as you'll be happily living here with Martha next year, along with Tom, Phil and their mates. Don't tell me you've gone doolally and forgotten all that?"

"No, I haven't forgotten," he weakly answered, and lifted his head to gaze at her with huge sad eyes. "There's no way I could forget that you leave right after the exams."

"Then what's the problem?" she asked more softly. "Don't you like Tom or Phil?"

There was a shake of his head. "I like them. They aren't the problem."

She moved nearer, sat on the bed next to him and took his hand. "Is it Martha? Because I know for a fact that she won't bother you if you don't want her to," she calmly insisted.

His hand gripped hers more tightly. "It isn't Martha," he stated, and braced himself to say the truth. "I don't want you to work with Dr Capaldi."

She instantly snorted her scorn. "Look, I know you can get a bit proud and jealous with your braininess; arrogant even. But I can hardly see how I can make a dent in your ego by typing up a few pages of notes." Then a thought occurred to her, and she eyed him warily. "Unless you think I'm making a move on Dr Capaldi and that's the thing you're jealous of." His face told her that she was getting close to the truth. "No!" she gasped out in disbelief. "Tell me I'm wrong." Dropping his hand, she edged slightly away, recoiling from the thought. "Boy did I get things backwards. How stupid can I be?"

"You're not stupid," he murmured. "Do you mind about me being jealous?" John hesitantly wondered. "I… I ...thought you knew."

"Up until now I didn't. I thought it was all an act," she admitted. "But it makes sense now." She turned to face and reassure him with her words. "I promise that I won't get into any situation that could compromise your interest. Obviously he followed me here this morning as a means to see you; I get that now. You should have told me you were having an affair with him. I'd have backed off and left you to it."

She couldn't be saying this! "Donna?!" John wailed as she rose from sitting on the bed. "You think that?"

"Of course I do," she confirmed. "What happened last night was you merely testing out a theory to see how committed you are to being gay. I can see that. Well, you've got your proof now. He's tried hard with the favouritism, I'll give him that. You'd have hardly noticed you were his special little star pupil."

"What? No no no no. You are more than an experiment!" he swore, standing up too. "How could you even think that?"

"When your best friend starts going around telling you not to work with his lover, it tends to give you that impression," she reasoned.

"No, you've got the wrong idea," he persisted, and launched himself to grab hold of her, wrapping his hands around her arms. "It isn't like that."

"Get your hands off me!" Donna cried out in horror. She beat off his hands and wrenched herself away from him. "Go away!"

"Donna, please," he implored, "I'm not going to hurt you." But she started to run, heading away from him and from what he had wanted to declare. "Come here."

"No! Keep away," she spat back as he followed her out onto the landing. He cornered her by the door frame to the bathroom. "What do you want?!"

Both Jack and Martha had been unable to avoid hearing the end of their spat, thanks to all the shouting. The two friends often argued, but this time it sounded more serious, so Jack led the way up the stairs in order to intervene and separate the two from physical harm. He knew that Donna was capable of landing more than a mean punch on anyone, as he'd once been at the receiving end of one of her thumps after a prank had backfired. His head had just reached the point when he could peep over the balustrade when he saw both of them, with John pinning Donna up against the door frame of the bathroom. The words were on the tip of his tongue to shout out and stop the possible attack, but he was stopped in his tracks. This looked completely different to what he had expected.

As it turned out, it was.

John loosened his tight hold on Donna, but he didn't completely let go. Instead he raised one hand and caressed her cheek, rubbing his thumb tenderly over her skin. His other hand rested on her waist; eager to draw her near. Her eyes were huge; filled with unshed tears as she silently begged him not to be joking, not to hurt her with some mean prank.

"What do I want? I thought you knew. I want you, Donna," he quietly told her. "Not some blonde, not Dr Capaldi, or any other lecturer you can think to drag into the argument; just you. And do you know why I want you?" She shook her head, as he had expected her to. By now his thumb had reached her mouth, and he was gently stroking her bottom lip. "Because what I said last night was true, even though I have tried to deny it for years; probably from the very beginning. The joke is that I'm only saying it now because a few drinks gave me the courage, because of what you said too. I'm sick of pretending I don't feel this way so I'm going out on a limb here. I love you, Donna. That's why I don't want you to move away. I want you to stay with me; live with me, properly, like lovers. So will you? Will you live with me?"

"I don't…," she began to say, but she was so stunned by his words that she couldn't finish the thought.

"And I know that isn't a proper proposal, but it's something we could consider later on, if you like," he continued trying to persuade her to stay. "I can't offer you much at the moment but it's loads more than that prat Lance can give you. So what do you say?"

Jack and Martha joined John in holding their breath as they waited for Donna's answer.

"You dumbo," she wheezed out.

"Is that a no?" he queried, already feeling his heart begin to break.

"That's a yes, you prawn. I don't go around idly telling people I love them," she chastised him. "What do you take me for?"

"Anything you are willing to offer me," he cheerily replied, beaming with happiness. "I can't live without you."

There was only one thing he could do having said that, so he eased forward and crushed her body to his as he kissed her thoroughly; triumph in his every movement.

"Has he finally told her?" Martha whispered as she stood on tiptoe, trying to see past Jack in front of her.

"Yes," Jack quietly confirmed with glee.

"Good," Martha commented. "It took them long enough, but they finally said it."

"What do you mean? It was obvious that John loved her," Jack argued, "but it wasn't clear where Donna is concerned."

"Don't tell me you were taken in by all that 'he is not my type' crap Donna came out with?" Martha wondered incredibly. "What planet have you been on?"

"The usual: planet John-lust, just like you," Jack countered. "I should have realised last night. Why didn't you say anything? Those two were acting really weird."

"I don't poke my nose in, unlike some people," Martha continued to bicker with him.

But outside the bathroom and bedroom doors, happily trading ecstatic kisses, the couple of the moment, were keen to ignore their friends, just for once.

"Wasn't I promised you'd stay the night with me?" Donna pondered during a brief respite from kissing.

"Oh yes," John happily agreed. He turned them towards her bedroom door and nudged her into the room beyond. "There was also a promise we'd have a joint shower together too and you'd let me help you wash your back. But first, we have some pressing business in your bed."

With that, the bedroom door was slammed shut, and Jack was left looking at the bemused face of Martha. "Looks like you've got some familiar housemates next year after all," he remarked.

Martha's face went soulful. "Never mind, Jack," she said, patting his arm in consolation. "There's always becoming a godfather to look forward to in years to come."

He nodded his agreement. "Or a threesome, when they get bored," he added, much to their mutual amusement.

Then the two of them descended the stairs and pretended that they couldn't hear the sounds coming from above; for the next hour or so.

~o0o~