A/N: I was encourgaed to continue this; so here's some more.

Chapter 2

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Looking out of the car window as they travelled along, Donna noted the thankful lack of any photographers. Phew! Thank goodness for that. The last thing she needed was some candid shot of her probably snotty face. Puffy red eyes don't need to be published either.

"Have we got far to go?" she casually asked.

"About four more minutes," John assured her. "Then you can get the chance to freshen up before I do us a curry."

"Sounds good."

"What are you going to wear?" Jenny pondered. "You can't go around in a wedding dress all day."

"Erm," Donna stalled. "I don't know." Yes, what was she going to do?

"I'm sure we'll be able to find you something of mine for now," John answered. "Nothing designer, obviously. Well, when I say that, someone once bought me some Calvin Klein underpants, but I can't imagine you wearing them."

"You aren't trying hard enough," she murmured close to his ear, waiting for the embarrassed flush to appear on his face. "Anything that fits will be fine," Donna responded much louder.

Alas, the distraction only lasted a second, and her sad thoughts returned in full vengeance. To think, this was her wedding night. She'd planned a playful trousseau to tease her bridegroom. Fat lot of good that would be now. And it was all sitting in a hotel room down near Brighton. In the honeymoon suite. What a waste. Oh well. Can't be helped now. Perhaps she could offer the room to John to enjoy for the rest of the booking?

"Here we are," Jenny brightly announced, bringing Donna out of her maudlin thoughts.

John's little blue car immediately turned right to park on the short front driveway of a normal looking house on a tree-lined road.

Nice neighbourhood. End terrace with probably three bedrooms, Donna surmised as she looked up at it. The bay window on the front ground floor room gave the house a pleasant aspect. All very familiar when compared to other such houses Donna had entered during her teenage years and beyond.

Clambering out of the car, however, proved to be an unwelcome challenge. A large, shaped bush in the front garden snagged her dress and veil as she attempted to get out. After much gasping and pulling, it soon became evident that she needed John to come to her rescue once again.

"Let me help you with that." Bending down to break off some stubborn twigs, he flashed her a reassuring grin. "Seems like my home doesn't want to let you go already," he joked.

"Perhaps it's partial to a bit of lace instead?" she playfully retorted. "At least you know what sort of Christmas lights to put up this year. Add in some pearls to the display."

"Good idea," he faintly replied, his hands still on the material, and his eyes became mesmerised by hers. Blue with a ring of amber fire. Amazing. And very unusual.

"Dad. Can you open the front door please? I'm desperate for the bathroom," Jenny pleaded.

"Oh, of course. Sorry Jenny. Yes, right away."

It was beyond Donna to hold in a giggle as he practically stumbled to the door, key in hand.

As expected, Jenny churlishly huffed and sped in to race up the stairs, leaving John to welcome Donna into his home.

"Well, this is the entrance hall, obviously. Through there is the lounge," he added, pointing to a doorway, "but I'll take you into the kitchen diner, to wait until Jenny comes back down."

"It's lovely. You have a lovely home," Donna complimented. "Oh wow," she added on seeing the kitchen space. All very modern, with huge patio doors leading out to a well-kept garden.

"You like it?" he questioned. "I'm very pleased with it. Do you want a cup of tea or something now, or would you rather wait until you've changed?"

She looked down at her dress and considered all the spillages that could occur. "I'll wait for my tea, thanks. You erm… said something about offering a possible change of clothing?"

"Right. I did. Follow me and we'll pick something suitable out. There must be a t-shirt or hoodie that'll do."

Obediently, she trudged up the stairs behind him, not noticing that pert bottom of his at all, she sternly told herself. He was her gracious host, not a possible conquest, or fantasy to be considered later on. And there was his daughter to take into consideration. What sort of example would she be setting the girl if she ogled his bum? Not a good one, that was certain.

"In here," he ordered, opening the door to a bedroom beyond. "This is my room."

It was a brightly lit room, decked out in a minimalist way. The decor gave off a very masculine vibe.

She stood in the doorway, cautious about entering. "Is this okay? Seems a bit forward to just come into your bedroom after knowing you for such a short time."

"Is it? Doesn't seem forward to me at all." He blushed and anxiously rubbed his earlobe. "Well, I considered that Jenny knew who you are, and I've heard about your dad for years, so it didn't seem daft. Then again, you don't know me from Adam. I could have had a shrine set up to you in here, for all you knew."

It was his demeanour that assured her things were safe. "No shrine? What a shame. I'd been looking forward to a bit of worship."

No doubt she was. In more than one way, he realised, and blushed again when he thought of possible ways to carry it out. Not in front of the children, he chided himself. Hastily opening a draw, he fumbled through several items and drew out two pieces that he rarely wore. "Will these do?"

She readily took the pale grey items and opened them out to reveal a sweatshirt and a pair of matching jogging bottoms. "These should do perfectly. Thank you."

"I'll leave you try them on," he said, "while I go put the kettle on. The bathroom is across the landing. And erm…" He nervously pointed at her back. "Do you need any help getting your dress off?"

"Saucy!" she deliberately trilled, causing his blush to return. "I should be fine, but if I need help, I'll call Jenny."

"Of course," he agreed with a nod. "That's best. See you in a few minutes."

Oh lord, she thought to herself when he left her alone in his bedroom. What had she let herself in for? Standing in a strange man's bedroom, wearing his clothing, and about to have him cook for her. What a peculiar world we live in. It was almost as though her dad had sent him to rescue her.

"Thanks Dad," she quietly murmured heavenward, and then headed to the vacant bathroom to wash her face.

"There you are," John pleasantly greeted her when Donna appeared downstairs in the kitchen.

His clothing was a little bit long on her, judging by the way she had turned up the sleeves and the bagginess of the trousers around ger ankles, but other than that, it did the job perfectly. Against the light grey tone, her now loose ginger hair was a blaze of colour. He couldn't keep the grin of satisfaction off his face as she sat herself on a bar stool at the kitchen counter in front of him. It gave him the courage to pretend this was a date. A date that had gone well enough for the datee (if such a word exists) to stay overnight.

Oh. He had forgotten that aspect.

"While I think of it, you're welcome to stay the night," he gushed.

"That's really kind of you," she responded, "but I ought to leave later."

"Where would you go?" Jenny asked as she joined them, now changed out of her school uniform and in normal clothes.

"Ah. That's my problem. I've got no money, keys, or anything else on me," Donna admitted.

John beamed at her. "Then you shall definitely stay here. We can sort out a solution tomorrow. We've got the whole weekend free."

"You don't know how much I appreciate this."

He modestly waved off her words. "Save your thanks until you've eaten my cooking."

"His curry's not bad at all," Jenny whispered to her. "Hopefully you will love it."

"I think I will," Donna confidentially replied.

Just what she needed. Some comfort food, a welcome distraction as Jenny chatted to her, asking loads of questions about her television show, and the scenery wasn't too bad either, she considered as John bustled about in the kitchen.

As for that lying, cheating, scumbag Lance, she wouldn't waste her thoughts on him until later, when she could devise her revenge.

Donna and John were sat together on a sofa after a delicious dinner, watching an old edition 'Top Of The Pops' from 1986 and animatedly discussing which music they'd liked as teens when Jenny burst into the lounge. Throwing herself down onto the nearest empty chair, she declared to Donna, "Guess what. Amy has just told me you're on the news."

John immediately glared at his daughter. "I hope you didn't reveal she was here."

"Of course not. I am capable of keeping secrets, you know."

His left eyebrow twitched. "Why does that suddenly worry me?"

"She's just being a normal teenage girl. Give her a break," Donna retorted.

It gained a smile from Jenny and a heavy frown from John.

Instead of replying, he lifted up the TV remote to switch the television over. After scanning through a couple of channels, he landed on the 'Channel 4 News'.

The familiar face of Krishnan Guru-Murthy set his gaze on them through the TV screen. "Reports are coming in of a possible sighting of missing TV presenter Donna Noble after she fled her wedding ceremony this afternoon. Donna is known for presenting the popular programme Afternoon Treats." In the background clips of her TV show were played as Krishnan explained who she was, including a close up of Lance.

"Oh. So that's him," John noted with a sniff as he leant forward.

Donna laughed when Jenny hissed at the image and held her fingers up to form a mock crucifix to ward Lance off. She was liking this girl more and more.

The news item followed this by showing footage from the wedding reception venue. To Donna's horror, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves without her. A meal had been eaten, judging by the cleared tables, and joyful music was playing. Even her mother was dancing in the background as Lance smugly grinned at some blonde he twirled about.

On screen, Krishnan was still talking. "Wedding guests say that the groom, Lance Bennett who works with Donna on the show, announced to the congregation that he couldn't go through with it. That he had someone else, and he couldn't subject her to seeing him go through this travesty. It is believed that Lance is now in a relationship with the Radio One DJ Empress Racnoss. Moments after the announcement, Donna ran from the church.

"She was caught on CCTV cameras heading for Coal Hill School and an eyewitness actually spoke to her."

The screen changed to show Marcie standing at the school gate, with a reporter's microphone in her face. "Oh yes, I saw her. All glammed up in her wedding dress. Sobbing her heart out, she was. I felt ever so sorry for her. One of the teachers took pity on her. Gave her a lift in his car."

The microphone momentarily swapped back to the reporter. "And do you know where they went?" she asked.

"No," Marcie admitted. "Probably took her home."

The reporter turned to the camera to say, "But whose home has she gone to? We won't know until she is sighted again."

"That's enough of that," John said decisively; using the remote to switch the television off.

A stunned Donna grouched, "They had the wedding reception without me! Can you believe that? The whole reception without me."

"I saw."

"Who does that sort of thing?" Jenny queried. "They should be worried about where you've gone."

"Exactly," Donna agreed. "It explains why no one answered when I tried to phone Mum's earlier. But it implies nobody cares."

"We do," John stated, and placed a hand over hers, giving it a comforting squeeze. "No doubt they used the excuse it was all bought and paid for."

"Tossers!" Jenny bitterly exclaimed. "The lot of 'em!"

"Jenny, language," he chided. "As for the reporter, who do they think they are, hounding you like that? It's just like that time poor Stephen Fry had his breakdown."

"Except I'm just down the road. Not France," Donna needlessly pointed out. "They're going to try to sniff me out."

"At least Marcie didn't give them your name, Dad," Jenny noted.

"On camera she didn't," he cautiously reasoned. "Might be completely different off camera, when bribes are offered."

"We might not be safe here," Donna remarked. "Is it worth sneaking down to the hotel I booked for the honeymoon?"

Despite liking the idea, John vetoed it. "Not really. It would be the first place they look. Anyway, in that getup nobody would recognise you, so you might as well stay here."

"If you say so."

But she wasn't convinced. It all depended on how much of a fuss the media would make about her being jilted. Unlovable, unmarriable her. A complete laughingstock. People would be pointing the finger at her for years. Her TV career was in ruins, just as Lance had undoubtedly planned.

Life as she knew it was over.

It made her want to sob her heart out again.

"Come on. It's not that bad," John soothed to the side of her, while Jenny handed over a box of tissues. "We'll help you get through this."

Donna lifted her gaze to Jenny and got a watery, reassuring smile from the girl too. It was all too much for her, and the tears began to pour down Donna's cheeks.

"Dad," Jenny suggested, tilting her head towards their guest.

Fortunately, he had already had the thought, but just needed permission from someone to do it. He lifted an arm in invitation. To his delight, Donna immediately took the hint and snuggled into his offered embrace.

The resultant wet patch on his shirt shoulder could be cleaned up later. For now, she needed his comfort. It was the least he could do.