shining moment

Fic: Grapefruits (1/1)

2009-11-02T22:20:38Z

Title: Grapefruits (1/1)
Author: shining_moment
Characters/Pairing: Ten/Donna
Rating: PG
Word Count: 704
Summary: Fluff, slightly naughty fluff. Written for the Weekly Drabble Challenge #30 (prompt word- succulent) over at doctor_donna
Disclaimer: Well no, they're not mine, thanks for reminding me. However, when I win the lottery, they will be mine because I'm going to buy them and we're all going to live happily together in a lovely big house.
A/N: I need to thank time_converges for being sure my muse was just resting when I was convinced she'd buggered off for good and gregorypeck for unexpectedly inspiring this little fic!

She rolls over and slides her hand around his waist and as she does, she catches sight of her new underwear lying on the floor beside the bed.

“You know,” she runs a finger down his side, smiling as she feels him squirm slightly, “I have to say, I’m very impressed.”

“I should think so too, I’m worn out here,” he reaches for her hand, tangling his fingers in hers and squeezing playfully.

“No, not that,” she grins, “Well, not just that.”

“What then?” he asks, shifting slightly so he can look into her eyes.

“The underwear,” she blinks sleepily and he smiles slowly at her.

“Ah, good choice?”

“Perfect choice, actually,” she returns his smile, “I’m wondering about something though.”

“Oh yeah?” he can’t resist any longer and leans down to kiss her lightly on the lips before she can continue.

“The size. How did you know the size?” she asks, her eyes narrowing with the question.

“Oh, well, you know, I just guessed,” he shrugs and tightens his hold on her hand, running his thumb across her skin.

“You bloody well did not,” she laughs, “No offence but no male from any planet can guess at a woman’s bra size and get it right. Try again.”

“I did guess,” he hesitates, biting his bottom lip slightly, “Well, kind of. I mean, I don’t really know about those Bs and Cs and all that but I do know about fruit.“

“Fruit?” she frowns at him, “I’m probably going to wish I hadn’t asked but… fruit?“

“You know, it’s almost like a science, this ladies’ underwear stuff,” he looks so pleased with himself that she can’t help smiling, “The assistant in the shop was very helpful, gave me such simple guidelines I couldn’t possibly go wrong-”

“Back up a bit, Spaceman,” she interrupts, “Where does the fruit come into it?”

“Ah, well, I found the set I thought you’d like but I had no idea there were so many sizes- all those numbers and letters. I mean, seriously, it’s no wonder you women spend so long shopping, it’s-” he stops and glances down, an admiring look in his eyes, “Actually, I think I know now why you’re so good with numbers.”

“Oi!” she prods him in the chest, grinning.

“Believe me, Donna, that was a compliment,” he grins back, his hand moving to stroke her back.

“Glad to hear it,” she sighs, “Anyway, fruit?”

“I suppose I must have looked a bit baffled or something because this very nice and helpful shop assistant told me to close my eyes and try to decide whether the bra needed to be big enough for a couple of tiny apricots, two neat little lemons or a pair of zesty oranges,” he grins triumphantly, “Well, it was easy after that.”

“Really?” she asks, her tone uncertain, “It was oranges, wasn’t it? I’ve got a pair of zesty oranges, haven’t I?”

“Nope,” he shifts and rolls her over, smiling at her surprised squeak as his tongue darts out to tickle her chest, “I told him I was much, much luckier than that.”

“How’s that then?” he looks up at her as he answers her question.

“Not oranges, Donna,” he dips his head again, moving closer to his target and she gasps when he reaches his destination and looks up at her, “Grapefruits. Soft, sweet, succulent grapefruits.”

“Come up here,” she whispers and he slides back up her body, stopping when his face is merely a breath away from hers, “You do realise that I can never, ever go into that shop with you, don’t you?” she asks, her lips brushing gently against his.

“Oh yes,” he murmurs, “Never, not a chance, not even if it‘s the last shop in the whole universe, nope, absolutely not, never going to-”

“Doctor,” she cuts him off, smiling.

“Yeah?” he asks, his thumb stroking quickly across her cheekbone.

“You can shut up now and carry on with what you were doing,” her smile grows wider and she licks her lips.

“My pleasure,” he grins and moves slowly again down her body and as his tongue slides against her skin, he thinks something else might just have replaced the banana as his favourite fruit.

END

Drabble: Revelation

2009-09-23T22:11:15Z

Title: Revelation
Author: shining_moment
Characters/Pairing: Ten/Donna
Rating: G
Word Count: 100
Summary: Written for the Weekly Drabble Prompt #25 over at doctor_donna (the word was 'baby'). Fluff, through and through :)
Disclaimer: I am not the queen of England. I also don't own Doctor Who.

As he holds her in the darkness, he feels it, small but growing stronger every day. In the silence as she sleeps, he hears it, a tiny echo of his own erratic beat but he says nothing, wants the revelation to come to her naturally, not from him.

When the sickness wakes her again, she checks the calendar, biting her lip against the tentative hope as he bites his to hold back the smile. When she comes to him, her smile is as wide as his as she says the words he’s been waiting for.

“We’re having a baby, Doctor.”

Drabble: First Day

2009-09-01T19:28:44Z

Title: First Day
Author: shining_moment
Characters/Pairing: Ten/Donna
Rating: G
Word Count: 100
Summary: Fluff, unashamed fluff. More fluff than under the bed in a room with wooden flooring. Written for the Weekly Drabble Prompt #22 ('uniform') at doctor_donna
Disclaimer: I own one character in this fic. The Beeb own the others.

“I’m ready!” he hears a voice and turns, his hearts melting at the sight of her.

Grey pinafore, tiny pleats around the bottom, crisp white ankle socks, shiny new shoes and two perfect pigtails adorned with blue ribbon.

“Look at you, all grown-up in your uniform,” he smiles despite the lump in his throat.

“I am all growed up, Daddy,” she nods, sitting down.

“Our baby’s going to school,” he murmurs as Donna walks in and slides her arms around him.

“Yep,” they look at their daughter, blue eyes focused intently on her cereal, “And she’s going to be brilliant.”

Drabble: Painted Lady

2009-08-30T17:55:04Z

Title: Painted Lady
Author: shining_moment
Characters/Pairing: Ten/Donna
Rating: G
Word Count: 100
Summary: Written for the Weekly Drabble Prompt #21 ('edge') at doctor_donna
Disclaimer: Not mine, RTD would never have allowed this kind of sap ;)

She sits on the edge of the bed, one foot on the floor, the other resting on his knee as he sits cross-legged before her. He starts to paint the first nail, his tongue peeking out in concentration and his glasses slipping slightly down his nose, reminding her again of just how much she loves him.

Eventually he looks up, grinning as he raises her foot gently, “All done.”

“Perfect,” she smiles softly, “Thank you.”

“No,“ he shakes his head and places a gentle hand on her swollen belly, the very reason she can’t reach her own toenails, “Thank you.”

Fic: Just a Bit Unlikely (Epilogue)

2009-08-23T09:18:13Z

Title: Just a Bit Unlikely (Epilogue)
Author: shining_moment
Characters/Pairing: Donna, Ten, Wilf, Sylvia
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1521
Summary: “No, that’s not it- well, not really,” he sighs, “Sometimes I wonder if you ever think about what your life might have been like if you hadn’t met me, whether it would have been nice, normal, peaceful-“
Disclaimer: Oh no, your honour, I would never steal other people's characters and write all kinds of fun for them. If I did, I'd at least make sure it was really good fun...
A/N: Inspired somewhat by David J. Schwartz's book, Superpowers. Set post-JE. A million thank yous to time_converges for looking it over for me :)

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six

“Ok, you can come in now,” he calls from inside the kitchen, aware that she knows exactly what he’s doing but still hoping to create a tiny element of surprise.

She peeks her head around the door, grinning at him, “Do I have to close my eyes?”

He walks over and stands in front of her, grinning back as he takes hold of her hand, “Nope. You already know what it is anyway.”

“Damn telepathy,” she says but there’s a twinkle in her eye because he knows she loves it really, knows it’s saved them both countless times over, “I can’t taste it that way though, can I? So you can still surprise me.”

He leads her by the hand over to the counter where a giant chocolate cake stands and he grins as her eyes light up and she licks her lips. Standing behind her, his gaze lands on her hair as it so often does and he finds himself mesmerised by the soft curls which ripple gently down her back, almost to her waist, longer than she used to wear it all those years ago. The colour hasn’t changed though, it’s still the explosion of autumn colours it always was, the various shades of red dancing as they catch the light.

Turning to him, she smiles, “Go on then, I can feel you there itching to stroke my bloody hair.”

“I wasn’t, I was just,” he stops, shrugging, “Yeah, alright, I was. Can I help it if you have the best hair in several galaxies?”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she smirks and holds out a small black band, “Here, make yourself useful. It’ll need tying back if I’m going to dive into that cake.”

“Now, as much as I whole-heartedly condone cake diving as a concept,” he pauses, running his hands through her hair as he ties it into a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck, tickling her skin lightly and smiling as she squirms, “It’d be a shame for you to go this long avoiding a regeneration only to have to list ‘death by cake’ as the cause of your first one.”

“It’d be better than tripping over a brick,” she grins, turning back to him, “If I hadn’t have pulled you back…”

“Alright, fair enough,” he smiles briefly but his eyes are serious, “What would I do without you, Donna Noble?”

“Run around tripping over bricks apparently,” her gaze flits to the cake and then back to him, “You know I only did it in case you regenerated into a teenager and made me feel like an old woman, don’t you?”

“You,” he prods the end of her nose playfully and she wrinkles it under his finger, “Do not need to worry about looking like an old woman. You don’t look a day over- well, you don’t look your age, that’s for sure.”

“God, I should bloody well hope not!” she laughs, turning back to the cake, “I did notice the absence of candles though. Good move, I think.”

“Well, I don’t think we have enough fire extinguishers-” he stops, seeing her expression and leans in to kiss her cheek, “Happy two hundredth, Donna.”

#

“I might pop,” she sighs as they slump down onto the sofa, “Just warning you.”

“It was good then?” he asks, a knowing smile on his face.

“It was bloody fantastic,” she replies, “You do make a great cake, I’ll give you that.”

“Could be something to do with all the practice I’ve had because someone has hinted that she’d quite like a cake every May for the past one hundred and sixty one years.”

“Wouldn’t have wanted you forgetting, would I?” she slides her hand into his, tangling their fingers together as she rests her head on his shoulder.

“You ok?” he squeezes her fingers slightly.

“Mm, fine,” she replies quietly.

“You’re reflecting, aren’t you?” he asks, softly, “I can hear you.”

“I remember you telling me when we first met that this is what humans do, mark out time with weddings, Christmas, birthdays, all that stuff. I know it’s been ages since I could call myself human but I suppose some habits are hard to break.”

“I wasn’t criticising,” he pauses, turning slightly and dropping a light kiss to the top of her head, “I just worry sometimes-“

“You worry all the time, you daft sod,” she interrupts, “You’ve known me for all this time, you can read my thoughts and you still worry that I’d keep things from you?”

“No, that’s not it- well, not really,” he sighs, “Sometimes I wonder if you ever think about what your life might have been like if you hadn’t met me, whether it would have been nice, normal, peaceful-“

“Boring, grey, free from anything even remotely exciting?”

“Point taken,” he says, smiling, “Do you ever miss home though?”

“I miss my family sometimes- Gramps, mostly, even though they're long gone now. It’s a funny word, home," she pauses briefly and he feels her shift slightly against his shoulder, "I mean, is it where you live? Where you were born? Where you feel happiest?"

“I suppose, when you put it like that, it’s not quite that easily defined,” he nods, frowning faintly.

“I don’t think it’s anything to do with where you live or where you were born because that’s just geography, a bit of chance and a whole heap of randomness,” she says, “I think home is wherever you feel like you belong, where you’re meant to be-“

“Who you’re meant to be with,” he finishes her sentence and feels her nod against his shoulder as they fall into a comfortable silence.

“If I-" she breaks the slience, "Well, if I happen to topple head first into a cake tomorrow or something equally ridiculous but fatal-“

“Donna…” he doesn’t like where her sentence is going.

“Oi, it’s my birthday, I’m reflecting, let me finish,” she continues, “If anything happens and it turns out we got it badly wrong assuming I’m Time Lord- or Lady, whatever- enough to regenerate, I want you to know that I have had the absolute best one hundred and sixty odd years of my life with you, Spaceman.”

“Well, I’ve been around for over a thousand years and I can safely say that the last one hundred and sixty have been the best by far. I wouldn't give up a single minute,” he reaches forward to the two glasses of champagne on the coffee table, handing one to her and then picking up his own as he turns to her, “So, here’s to at least another one hundred and sixty.”

"We've got three hundred years," they clink their glasses and she grins at the confused look on his face, "Well, I'm going to want one hell of a party for my big half millenium and unless we get out there and make some more friends between now and then, it's going to be you, me and Jack. Fun, don't get me wrong, but hardly the shindig I was thinking of."

"That's three hundred years away, Donna," he sets his glass down and grabs hers, doing the same with it before pulling her up from the sofa, "Let's do something now, celebrate this birthday."

"Where are we going?" she asks as he heads towards the console room, his hand gripping hers, pulling her along with him.

"Somewhere we haven't been for ages," he replies, shades of vague uncertainty crossing his face as he sets the co-ordinates before sitting beside her on the jump seat.

"Thank you," she turns suddenly and puts her arms around him, squeezing tight, closing her eyes against the tears filling them.

"Bugger, I'm sure I used to be so good at blocking out what I was thinking," he says, smiling against her hair, "I wanted it to be a surprise."

"I didn't know that's where we were going two minutes ago, did I? So it is a surprise," she shrugs as the TARDIS signals their arrival and the Doctor stands up and walks over to the doors, flinging them open and heading outside, Donna's hand in his.

#

"I wish he could see us," she whispers, leaning against the Doctor's shoulder as they sit on the grass high above Chiswick, "Oh, I know that can't happen, I know all the reasons why we need to use the filter but sometimes I wish- never mind."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Yes, you should have, this is the most perfect birthday present," she loops her arm through his and smiles, "What date is it?"

"June 22nd, 2009," he replies, "There's your gramps, sitting on the hill, watching the stars just like he always did except by this time you were up there with them so he was looking out for you as much as keeping an eye out for Venus. His little granddaughter, up amongst the stars. He was so proud, Donna."

"Can we stay a while?" she asks, her voice soft, content.

"We can stay as long as you like," he puts his arm around her, pulling her in closer, "Happy Birthday, Earthgirl."

END

Fic: Just a Bit Unlikely (6/6)

2009-08-21T17:24:09Z

Title: Just a Bit Unlikely (6/6)
Author: shining_moment
Characters/Pairing: Donna, Ten, Wilf, Sylvia
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2405
Summary: The hardest part is lying to Gramps, he’s always been the one she’s honest with and she hates doing this to him, hates that he’s downstairs right now worrying about the very thing that’s happening to her but she knows if she makes it through this he’ll understand.
Disclaimer: Oh no, your honour, I would never steal other people's characters and write all kinds of fun for them. If I did, I'd at least make sure it was really good fun...
A/N: Inspired somewhat by David J. Schwartz's book, Superpowers. Set post-JE. A million thank yous to time_converges for looking it over for me :)

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five

It’s a long few days, a few days which she spends mostly in pain, an agonising headache crippling her, confining her to bed, unable to get any further than the bathroom and even then she has to lie on the bathroom floor for what feels like hours before she can make it back to bed. On the first day, when it’s little more than a dull ache, she calls work and tells them she has food poisoning, that she ate some bad fish at the weekend, she’s not sure when she’ll be back.

Then she tells her mum the same thing because she can hear her thinking so clearly, hear her panicking that the memories might be coming back and doesn’t dare tell her she’s right, that they are coming back and she’s terrified that if she’s got this horribly wrong, she’ll die- slowly and painfully- as the memories return. If it didn't make her head feel like it might explode, she'd smile when her mum goes through the motions of telling her off for eating dodgy takeaways when she’s been out drinking, totally unaware of course that Donna can hear what she’s really thinking.

The hardest part is lying to Gramps, he’s always been the one she’s honest with and she hates doing this to him, hates that he’s downstairs right now worrying about the very thing that’s happening to her but she knows if she makes it through this he’ll understand. She hopes desperately that if it turns out that she isn't strong enough to cope with this, with her memories returning, he’ll also understand why she had to at least try.

Bit by bit, piece by piece, like tiny threads coming together to make a tapestry, she can see it all like a giant crossword in her head that will only fully make sense when it’s complete. When she finally sleeps through a whole night, waking to find the headache gone, a slow realisation presents itself. She, Donna Noble, travelled through time and space with an alien, an alien who just happens to be the most wonderful friend she’s ever had and she remembers it all. Donna Noble 1, Meta-crisis 0, she grins and heads downstairs.

#

Wilf sits at the dining room table, a cup of tea sitting untouched in front of him as he stares off into the distance. Donna stands for a few seconds in the doorway, smiling at the sight of the granddad she adores, before walking over to him and breaking him out of his trance.

“Donna!” he smiles at her before his face turns into a frown, “You’re going to work?”

“Yep,” she smiles at him, squeezing his shoulder as she heads for the fridge to grab some juice before she leaves.

“You’re feeling ok?”

“More than ok, Gramps,” she turns back to face him, “The headaches have gone, I can’t hear what you’re thinking and I remember everything, all of it. I travelled in space!”

“Yes, sweetheart, you did,” he smiles at the wonder in her voice, relaxing as he seems to realise that she’s ok, “Oh, and you loved it too, I didn’t half used to look forward to you coming home and telling me all about it. All those places you went to, all the things you saw and then on top of that you went and saved the universe. My little granddaughter, saving the universe, it’s bloody marvellous.”

“Well,” she shrugs casually but there’s a grin on her face and a slight blush in her cheeks that she can’t hide, “Must be in the genes, Gramps.”

“Here,” he reaches across the table and hands his mobile phone to her, “He’s in there as John Smith.”

Smiling, she gently pushes the phone back in his direction and stands up from the table, taking her glass to the sink, aware that he’s looking at her in confusion.

“Not just yet,” she says as she turns back to face his questioning gaze, “I just need…”

“Don’t be too hard on him, Donna,” Wilf says, his voice soft yet firm, “You should have seen him the day he brought you back. Devastated, he was, absolutely broken. I watched him walk away and I don't think I've ever seen anyone look so defeated. He did what he had to do, you can't blame him for that.”

“That’s not it, Gramps, not at all. I can’t wait to see him,” she smiles excitedly, “I just need to get my head around things a bit first, that’s all. I’m going to go to work, catch up with some stuff and I’ll sort it all out tonight.”

“That's my girl,” he stands and kisses her softly on the cheek, “Have a good day.”

#

She spends the morning wondering why she bothered coming to work at all, really. She can’t stop thinking about it all, about the last few months and everything that’s happened, about the long and empty months before that when she felt so lost and didn’t know why. Mostly though she thinks about him, about all the places he showed her, all the wonderful things, all the times they laughed and cried and bickered, the hugs and the smiles and the fun. The best time she's ever had, without a doubt.

She’s so distracted that she doesn’t notice at first that the wonky staple she’s been trying to remove from the corner of a document on her desk has cut straight into her finger until she looks down and sees the blood dripping onto the paper.

Cursing, she opens her drawer to look for a tissue, almost sure she has a box of them lurking in there and as she finds them and pulls one out she notices something strange, very strange. The cut on her finger has not only stopped bleeding but the skin is now slowly sealing back up right in front of her eyes until there isn’t a single mark to be seen, like there was never a cut there to begin with.

Could this be what all these crazy abilities were leading up to? She can’t help thinking about how, for such a short time, she was part Time Lord and she wonders if this means she’s more like the Doctor than she thought, if it means she could chop off a hand, keep it in a jar and grow a new one. Oh, she knows that’s not really how it works but she also knows how quickly Time Lords can heal, how an injury that would take weeks to heal in a human can be gone in minutes. She’s seen it, seen the Doctor cut himself and watched in awe and with more than just a little bit of envy as it healed right up and now she’s seen the very same thing in herself. Not daring to even think about what else this might mean, not letting the word ‘regeneration’ stay in her mind for more than a brief moment, she realises she needs to talk to him, needs to see him and she can’t wait any longer.

“Going to lunch,” she grabs her bag and doesn’t wait for anyone to say anything, just bolts out of the door without even a glance back.

She makes it barely seconds away from the building when there’s a loud bang, a cloud of smoke and a few seconds of screaming before total silence descends upon the street and Donna find herself thrown violently onto the ground.

Although she's never experienced it before, she knows instantly that it's a bomb, that when she looks up she's going to see complete carnage, sights no-one ever wants to see and she's surprised to find that, when she does sit up and dust herself down, her first instinct isn't to run away from it all but to run closer, to see if she can help. She wonders if this is what the Doctor feels like, completely unable to walk away when there's trouble, even if there are no guarantees he can actually help. As she picks herself up and starts to run towards the rubble of the building that was standing just moments earlier, she wonders if she's going to have to start getting used to this again, diving into unknown situations. God, she hopes so.

#

It feels like hours go by but she's certain it's not that long at all. The ambulances have started to arrive, there are police blocking off sections of the road but there's still confusion- people everywhere, some injured, some worse and too late for anyone to help, let alone Donna. She does what she can, keeping people calm, giving basic first aid where she can until inevitably the emergency services take over and she's asked to move away from the scene, for her own safety and so they can begin to fully assess the situation.

As she walks away, she collides with a familiar brown suit and finds herself looking into the startled brown eyes of the Doctor.

"Donna? What- what are you doing here? Are you alright? Come on, let's get you out of here," he takes her arm but she doesn't move and he frowns, "Donna?"

"You took your bloody time," she says, tired but so happy to see him that she can't stop a grin from spreading across her face, "Nothing much left to do here now, mate."

He grins back at her and takes his hand from her arm, reaching down to tangle his fingers in hers instead, saying nothing.

"Cat got your tongue now?" she asks, "Not that you've got a cat. Well, unless you got one since-oh God, you didn't replace me with a cat, did you? Tell me you're not travelling with a ginger cat called Donna-"

"There's no cat!" he interrupts, "Now, how the heck?"

He doesn't finish the question because he doesn't need to. She knows what he needs to hear from her as she squeezes his hand and they start to walk, eventually stopping to sit on a low wall further down the street, far enough away from the chaos they've just found themselves in the midst of.

"How did you know?" she asks, unable to tear her eyes away from the man who just days ago was John Smith, some bloke who was friends with her granddad.

Smiling, he pulls out the psychic paper and she laughs at what appears on it- Donna Noble 1, Meta-crisis 0.

"I hoped this meant what I really wanted it to and it obviously does," he says, "How, though?"

"Well, I can give you an educated guess combined with a fair bit of research- not sure what I'd do without the internet," she grins as she continues, "It would seem that all the residual Time Lord energy caused by the meta-crisis, while it was bouncing around my brain looking for something to do, decided that rather than frying me up with all my memories it'd show itself in other ways."

"The invisibility, the flying, all of that?"

"Yep, all of that stuff-"

"I bet you loved the flying, didn't you?" he interrupts, unable to keep the smile from his face.

"Getting to work in less than ten seconds?" she returns the smile, "Who wouldn't love that?"

"True enough," he nods, "But the memories are back now so-"

"So, while the energy was being channelled into making me a superhero," she grins, "The supressed memories-"

"The supressed memories got released gradually and because the energy had been working like crazy to give you all those abilities, you were able to remember without any damage," he finishes her sentence, an amazed look on his face.

"I reckon that's about it, yeah," she shrugs but her grip on his hand tightens just slightly.

"The universe wanted you around, Donna Noble," he says, squeezing her hand, pausing as he glances down, the look of worry on his face causing Donna to look in the same direction.

She sees that his glance has settled on her ankle where a shard of glass has embedded itself into her skin which, in all of the commotion, she somehow failed to notice.

As she looks back at him, the panic in his eyes makes her reach out and grab his arm, trying to calm him, "That's the thing I hadn't told you yet."

"Donna, we need to get that looked at, right now," he frowns, not taking in what she's saying, "There are still paramedics back there. You stay here and I'll go and get help-"

"Doctor, no," she shakes her head, "That's what I'm trying to tell you."

Releasing his hand, she leans down and pulls out the glass in one swift move, wincing slightly as the blood starts to run down the side of her leg.

"Donna!" the Doctor stands up and starts rummaging around in his pockets, bringing out various things but not the tissue he's so obviously looking for.

When he does finally drag out a large cloth handkerchief from the depths of his coat and crouches down to press it against Donna's leg, the blood has slowed and the cut looks much less angry than it did mere seconds ago. He looks up at her, surprised to see a smile on her face.

"That's what I was trying to tell you," she says as his eyes flit down again to the cut that has now all but disappeared.

"You can heal," he says simply, a vague note of awe in his voice.

"Yep, seems like you might not be the only one who can lop off a limb, bang it in a jar and grow a new one- not that I'm trying that."

"No, of course not," he agrees quickly, "So, this could mean-"

"It could mean I'm a bit freaky like you," she smiles, "No offence."

"None taken," he grins at her, "Does this mean you might, you know, want to come with me?"

"Try stopping me," she turns to him and hugs him, holding on tight for a few long, blissful seconds.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he says, hugging her back.

They pull apart and both instinctively turn back to make sure a relative calm has returned to the street behind them. When it's clear that things are under control, they get to their feet, the Doctor takes Donna's hand in his and they head silently towards the TARDIS, just like old times.

Epilogue to follow...

Fic: Just a Bit Unlikely (5/6)

2009-08-19T20:22:10Z

Title: Just a Bit Unlikely (5/6)
Author: shining_moment
Characters/Pairing: Donna, Ten, Wilf, Sylvia
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1820
Summary: Her wonderful Gramps did what he always did, hugged her and said nothing, holding her until the tears subsided before taking her hand, sitting her down and asking her to tell him everything.
Disclaimer: Oh no, your honour, I would never steal other people's characters and write all kinds of fun for them. If I did, I'd at least make sure it was really good fun...
A/N: Inspired somewhat by David J. Schwartz's book, Superpowers. Set post-JE. A million thank yous to time_converges for looking it over for me :)

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four

Donna wakes up and rolls over to glance at the clock. 6.35am, far too bloody early to even think about getting up on a Saturday but there's not much point in staying in bed just to toss and turn, wide awake. She’s sick of this, quite frankly, sick of being unable to get to sleep for all the noise, the voices buzzing around her brain and then waking up a mere couple of hours after she finally does drop off, only to have to deal with the same thing all over again.

She can’t help wondering if this is some kind of twisted payback for the amount of fun she had while she could fly and she offers up a silent exchange- she’ll go back to being normal Donna, boring Donna, free from all superhuman abilities and never complain again if this one would just go away, if the noise would just stop.

The first day this one showed itself she panicked, thought that was it, thought she’d finally cracked and the white coat brigade would be on their way any minute. Then the realisation had hit her that she wasn’t hearing voices, she was hearing thoughts, the thoughts of anyone around her and she didn’t like how it made her feel like the worst kind of intruder.

She’d found herself in tears at the strangest moments, heartbroken at the sadness in some people’s thoughts, found herself angry at the selfishness and the cruelty in others. The hardest thing to deal with though is hearing the thoughts of her family because it seems that both her mum and her granddad spend far too much of their time worrying about her and it makes her feel awful. After two weeks of trying to cope with it alone, she finally broke down and cried like a little girl, ending up sobbing even harder when she tried to get a grip of herself. Her wonderful Gramps did what he always did, hugged her and said nothing, holding her until the tears subsided before taking her hand, sitting her down and asking her to tell him everything.

Giving up on any idea of more sleep, she gets out of bed, grabs her robe and heads downstairs.

#

Her third cup of coffee brings with it the arrival of the postman and the discovery that he’s very distracted by the fact he’s planning to propose to his girlfriend in a few short hours and he’s scared he’ll stumble over the words and make an arse of himself. Bless him, she thinks, as she smiles to herself.

“What are you sitting there grinning at this early on a Saturday morning, sweetheart?” Wilf walks in and heads for the kettle.

“Oh, nothing,” Donna replies, smiling at him, “You alright, Gramps?”

“Never mind me, you look knackered. Now, before you take offence, you’re still my beautiful girl but still,” he pauses, frowning faintly, “Not sleeping any better?”

“Not really, no,” she shakes her head, “Gramps?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“Do you think-” she pauses, sighing, “What if this one never goes away? What if this is the one I’m stuck with? Because I don’t think I could stand this forever, I’d go mental, it’s hard enough now, constant bloody noise in my head-”

“Now, enough of that,” he sits down beside her and covers her hand with his, “Can you not figure out how to turn it on and off like you could with the other stuff?”

“I’ve tried, Gramps, I can’t do it. Whatever I try, it’s always there,” she stops and rubs her hand across her forehead, “Stop it, Gramps.”

“Stop what?” he asks, his face a picture of innocence.

“Nice try but I can hear you, remember?” she drops her hand from her head and lets it rest on his, “Please stop worrying about me. You and Mum, I feel like that’s all I do these days, is cause you too much worry.”

“We’re your family, Donna. It’s in the job description.”

“Sometimes there’s stuff going on in your head that doesn’t make sense, Gramps,” she says, looking intently at him.

“Well, you never did pay much attention as a kid when I tried to explain the finer details of cricket,” he smiles but it’s a sad smile.

“I’m serious, Gramps. I hear you- and Mum- worrying about me and I don’t know what half the stuff you’re thinking about even means but then sometimes I think I almost do, I come so, so close to remembering something,” she stops, sudden and unexpected tears welling up in her eyes, “Oh, don’t listen to me, I’m over-tired, I don’t know what I’m saying-”

“You know I’d never keep anything from you unless it was absolutely for your own good, don’t you?” he asks, his face serious, his thoughts searing into Donna’s mind so strongly she has to close her eyes to absorb them.

“Of course I do, Gramps,” she opens her eyes and fixes her gaze on him, determined to make him see that she doesn’t blame him for his reluctance to fill in the missing time, “I just can’t help wondering if all this, all this flying and invisibility and mind-reading, well, what if it’s a way somehow of giving me back what I lost?”

#

He stands beside the bar, keeping what he hopes is a discreet eye on the table she’s sitting at and watches, frowning slightly as she downs three glasses of wine in quick succession. Wilf had contacted him to tell him Donna had been hearing people’s thoughts for the last few weeks and that she was struggling to cope with it, having trouble sleeping and that when she’d finally told him about it, she’d broken down and sobbed. He hates this, the thought of her being unhappy, of having these strange new abilities and being unable to deal with them. He hopes he’s right about it being a result of the residual energy and that one day it will mean her memories will return without doing the damage he'd feared they would on that awful day when he’d tried to wipe them. He’d give anything for her to know what she did, how brilliant she really is, what wonderful times they had together.

Wilf said she’d told him she was going out with the girls in the hope that the alcohol might help to block out the ability, if only for one night, so the Doctor had offered to go to the pub and keep an eye on her, to step in if it looked like he might need to. This is how he now finds himself alone at the corner of the bar watching her, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible.

She gets up from the table and wobbles slightly, grabbing a nearby table to steady herself before heading towards the bar. He slinks back and looks down, hoping she’ll just get her drinks and make her way back without spotting him. Of course he should have known he wouldn’t be so lucky and he knows before he even has to look back up that she’s staring at him. He glances up and gives her a casual wave, smiling as she narrows her eyes and moves along the bar to stand beside him.

“John Smith!” she exclaims, grinning at him, “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Yeah,” he smiles at her, noting her bright eyes and the faint pink flush high on her cheeks, “Fancy.”

“I know why you’re here,” she says, her lips forming a teasing smile as she reaches over and runs her hand down his tie, “You’re here because Gramps asked you to keep an eye on me, aren’t you?”

“Well…” he hesitates, scratching his head nervously. She's tipsy but she's not drunk enough that he can get away with lying and hoping she won't remember.

“It’s alright, I’m not going to have a go at you,” her hand stills on his chest, “I think I know why he asked you.”

“Oh well, you know. I wasn’t busy this evening anyway and I’m happy to help your granddad, he’s a good bloke and-“

“I think it’s something else,” she interrupts, barely acknowledging his babble, “I think you and me know each other, more than just you being mates with Gramps. I feel like I know you, like we were important to each other once.”

“Donna-“ he tries to speak even though he has no idea what he’s about to say but she continues before he can get any further.

“God, you probably think I’m a complete loony, sorry,” she removes her hand from where it was still resting on his chest and looks up at him, pain in her eyes that shoots straight to his hearts, “This isn’t helping, I should have known it wouldn’t, I can't bear it, I can't make it stop. I need to go home.”

“Wait,” he reaches out to grab her hand before she can get away from him and she turns back, her intense gaze locking onto his and reminding him suddenly of every experience they ever had together.

“Whatever the reason, Gramps asked you to look out for me and you did, even though I probably seem like a drunken nutter,” she stops and before he has time to respond, she leans up and kisses him firmly on the lips, smiling as she pulls away, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he nods, his head spinning as he tries not to think about what just happened, tries to keep on blocking his thoughts from her, just as he has been doing all evening, “Come on, I'll walk you home.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she shakes her head, “It’s only five minutes away, I'll be fine.”

“Your granddad would have me for breakfast if you didn’t make it home in one piece,” he smiles at her, “Humour me, yeah?”

#

They reach the far end of the High Road before she suddenly realises that he’s the only person since this started whose thoughts she hasn’t been able to hear, that despite the random musings of the occasional passer by this is the first time she’s managed to be with someone in weeks without having every single one of their thoughts crashing into her mind, rendering any chance of silence hopeless.

As they reach her front door, she has a sudden vision of his face in another place, another time, smiling at her just as he has been this evening and she’s more convinced than ever that she’s right about knowing him somehow, almost sure he might be the key to everything that she’s missing.

“Goodnight, Donna,” he says as she opens the door and he turns back towards the gate.

She smiles and gives a little wave in his direction before stepping inside the house and closing the door behind her leaning back and trying to ignore the slow pounding inside her head, “Goodnight, Doctor.”

Drabble: Perfect Little Moments

2009-08-18T20:31:35Z

Title: Perfect Little Moments
Author: shining_moment
Characters/Pairing: Ten/Donna, Jack
Rating: G
Word Count: 100
Summary: Post-JE, not happy, no fluff in sight. Written for the Weekly Drabble Prompt #20 ('perfect') at doctor_donna
Disclaimer: The BBC definitely owns the Doctor and Donna in this story. I will lay claim to the happy ever after kind :)

“She used to do this thing when we were holding hands where she’d reach over with her free hand and run her fingers up and down my arm, so softly I’m not sure she even realised she was doing it,“ he smiles sadly, taking another gulp from the glass, looking at Jack who nods at him to continue, “That‘s what I miss most, those little things, those perfect little moments…”

He stops, slipping into a melancholy silence.

“You loved her,” Jack states, simply.

“ I still do,” he swallows hard and looks away, “I don’t know how I’ll ever stop.”

Fic: Just a Bit Unlikely (4/6)

2009-08-17T17:15:22Z

Title: Just a Bit Unlikely (4/6)
Author: shining_moment
Characters/Pairing: Donna, Ten, Wilf, Sylvia
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1245
Summary: “Oh, not impossible, Wilf,” the Doctor grins at him, “Just a bit unlikely. So, apart from the whole flying thing, is there anything else I should know?"
Disclaimer: Oh no, your honour, I would never steal other people's characters and write all kinds of fun for them. If I did, I'd at least make sure it was really good fun...
A/N: Inspired somewhat by David J. Schwartz's book, Superpowers. Set post-JE. A million thank yous to time_converges for looking it over for me :)

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

He sits and waits in his usual spot on the hill, looking at the stars from afar, telescope cast aside for the moment. It’s a warm night, clear with a gentle breeze and he smiles as he hears the now familiar sound of the TARDIS coming to rest just behind where he sits and turns to greet the Doctor as he steps out and grasps Wilf’s hand, shaking it enthusiastically.

“Doctor, it’s good to see you,” Wilf says, gesturing to the seat beside him.

“You too,” the Doctor takes the seat offered and turns to Wilf, “She’s not around, is she?”

“No, no, she’s off out with Sylvia, shopping and then a bite to eat,” he laughs at the Doctor’s raised eyebrows, “Believe me, I was as surprised as you are.”

“They’re getting along better these days then?”

“God, not at first, it was worse than ever for a while. Donna was confused about everything and Sylvia was worried sick, scared that anything we said might trigger something,” Wilf replies, pausing, “But it seems to be sorting itself out just lately. She’s worried about her though, we both are.”

“Has something happened?” the Doctor turns to him and Wilf can sense his anxiety, can hear the barely covered fear in his tone.

“It's not what you’re thinking, Doctor. At least I hope that’s not where it’s heading-“

“Where what’s heading? What's happened?” the Doctor cuts him off and then wonders if his tone wasn’t a little harsh, “Sorry, I don't mean to snap, certainly not at you.”

“You’re worried, I know that. I mean, you get a call from me asking you to pop over as soon as you can, what else are you going to think, eh?” Wilf smiles slightly, “She’s been getting headaches, she’s says they’re not serious but she’s been getting them more and more over the past couple of months and, well, I don’t like it, Doctor, not a bit.”

“But she hasn’t said anything, hasn’t done anything to make you think she might be remembering?” the Doctor frowns.

“Well, no but,” Wilf pauses, “Thing is, this is going to sound a bit daft but I need to ask. When she was with you, did you teach her anything unusual, I mean anything that normal people really shouldn’t be able to do?”

“Like…?” the Doctor tails off, smiling slightly, encouraging Wilf to get to exactly what it is he’s trying to say.

“Like flying, Doctor. Did you teach her to fly?”

“She did manage to talk me into teaching her how to pilot the TARDIS, yes,” the Doctor nods, “She can be fairly persuasive when she wants to be, your granddaughter.”

“Oh, don’t I know it, she’s had me wrapped around her little finger for thirty odd years,” Wilf grins, “That’s not what I mean though, that she’s suddenly announced she wants to fly planes. I mean she can fly.”

“Blimey,” the Doctor says, falling silent for a few long seconds before a slow smile lights up his face, “I bet she’s loving that!”

“Aye, she is, especially now it takes her less than 10 seconds to get to work in the morning,” Wilf nods, “Is it something we should worry about though? I mean, surely that should be impossible, shouldn't it?”

“Oh, not impossible, Wilf,” the Doctor grins at him, “Just a bit unlikely. So, apart from the whole flying thing, is there anything else I should know?"

"Well," Wilf scratches his head lightly as he talks, "Before the flying, she was invisible for a while."

"She was invisible?" the Doctor asks, running his hand through his hair and blowing out a long breath.

"Yeah, it didn't last long but it was long enough for her to start quite enjoying that too."

"Now, I'm not sure but I think this might be a good thing," the Doctor says cautiously, waiting for Wilf to nod before he carries on, "I have a feeling this is a result of the meta-crisis, I think there could be residual Time Lord energy in her brain and it's manifesting itself like this, in these abilities."

"But you said you wiped it, all of it, you said she'd have died if you hadn't," Wilf says, worried.

"I know what I said," the Doctor nods, "I did the only thing I could at the time. It was happening so quickly, I could feel the energy overloading her brain so fast and I had to do whatever I could to save her."

"I'm not questioning what you did, Doctor. I'd rather have her home alive than-," Wilf stops talking and clears his throat, looking away from the Doctor and up into the night sky, "Are you saying now that she might remember and that it might not do her any damage after all?"

"I'm saying it's possible that if the excess energy is still there and it's working to give her these abilities then yes, one day she might remember and suffer no ill-effects," the Doctor says slowly.

"But you're not sure?" Wilf asks, hearing the undertone of hope in the Doctor's voice and finding himself patting his arm in a silent gesture of reassurance.

"No, not completely," the Doctor replies instantly, honestly.

"Tell me what you want me to do," Wilf asks, simply.

"What you already do, Wilf. Keep an eye on her, worry about her, be proud of her but keep me updated and if anything happens that you're not sure about, let me know and I'll be here. I promise you that, I owe her- and you- that."

Wilf doesnt say anything, just nods as the Doctor stands and then does the same but before the Doctor can walk away, there's a noise, a rustling from the other side of the shed that neither of them have chance to process until suddenly Donna is standing right in front of them.

"Kettle's on, Gramps, if you want a cuppa- oh, sorry, I didn't know you had company," she smiles at her granddad then at the Doctor.

"It's alright, sweetheart," Wilf's tone is light but the Doctor can feel him tense slightly beside him, "This is my friend, John. John, this is Donna."

"Hello, Donna," the Doctor smiles at her.

"Hi," she returns the smile before frowning faintly, "We've met before?"

"We have, briefly," the Doctor replies, nodding.

"I remember. It was the day with all the planets appearing, you popped in to see Gramps," she grins, "Hope you haven't brought trouble like that with you this time."

"No, no, not at all, I just came to catch up with Wilf, haven't seen him in a while, wanted to have a look at the new telescope-"

"I was kidding," she interrupts his babbling with a smile.

"I was just going anyway," the Doctor steps towards Donna but she surprises him by putting a hand on his arm.

"Don't rush off on my account," she turns to Wilf, "I'll tell Mum you'll be down in a few minutes, ok?"

"Thanks, sweetheart," he smiles.

"Oh, how rude am I?!" she suddenly says, turning her attention back to the Doctor, "You're welcome to come in and have a cuppa before you head off, if you like."

"I would but I really do need to be making a move," he smiles at her, "Thanks, though."

"Maybe next time then," she says, smiling at him as she turns to head back down the hill, "See you in a bit, Gramps."

"Yeah," he says once she's out of earshot, "Maybe next time."

Fic: Just a Bit Unlikely (3/6)

2009-08-15T10:40:42Z

Title: Just a Bit Unlikely (3/6)
Author: shining_moment
Characters/Pairing: Donna, Ten, Wilf, Sylvia
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1537
Summary: "So now she’s back to being boring old Donna Noble again, with her typing speed as her most impressive skill. Hardly in the same league as being able to disappear at will and even though part of her had wondered if it might be a temporary thing, she can’t help feeling disappointed."
Disclaimer: Oh no, your honour, I would never steal other people's characters and write all kinds of fun for them. If I did, I'd at least make sure it was really good fun...
A/N: Inspired somwhat by David J. Schwartz's book, Superpowers. Set post-JE. A million thank yous to time_converges for looking it over for me :)

Chapter One Chapter Two

It’s been two weeks now since Donna woke up one morning and realised her abilty to become invisible had gone. She tried everything, tried staring into the mirror, stepping away from the mirror, standing up, sitting down, lying on the floor, eyes closed, eyes open but all to no avail. So now she’s back to being boring old Donna Noble again, with her typing speed as her most impressive skill. Hardly in the same league as being able to disappear at will and even though part of her had wondered if it might be a temporary thing, she can’t help feeling disappointed. All that seems to be left over from her temporary super power is a series of dull headaches, leaving her feeling sluggish and irritable.

Sighing and realising she’s going to be late if she doesn’t get a move on, she grabs her bag and heads out of the bedroom. What she fails to notice in her hurry is her purse falling out and landing with a barely audible thud on the carpet ahead of her and as she reaches the top of the stairs she notices it a fraction too late, by the time she does it’s already underfoot. She has one of those moments where everything seems to slow down, almost teasingly since there’s never a damn thing you can do to save yourself by this point.

Making a frantic grab first for the banister and then for the wall, she feels her feet slip out from under her and realises she’s about to make her way down the stairs much more quickly than she originally planned. She feels her whole body tensing, preparing for the fall in that way it does even though it ultimately makes things worse in situations like this. She hits the wall once, twice before she suddenly realises that she’s no longer falling, she’s flying and there’s a big, big difference. Holding in a squeal of fear and excitement as she looks down at her feet floating above the carpet, she sees the front door coming closer and thinks how ironic it would be to make it safely down the stairs only to crash head first into the door.

Before she has chance to ponder life’s little ironies any further, her feet are back on the floor and she’s standing, stunned, at the bottom of the stairs. Her granddad walks down the hall from the kitchen and stops in front of her, “You alright, darlin’? You look a bit pale.”

“No,” she replies, slightly breathlessly, “I mean yeah, I’m ok, bit of a headache, that’s all. I’m fine, just running a bit late.”

“So late you haven’t got time to give your Gramps a goodbye kiss?”

“Never too late for that,” she smiles fondly at him, leaning over to kiss his cheek as she feels her heart pounding with the realisation of how she just got down the stairs and what that might mean, “I’ll see you tonight, Gramps.”

#

After what feels like the slowest day in history, Donna finally bolts out of the office but gets no further than the bus stop, suddenly realising that testing out this new power is probably going to be a lot more difficult than the last one. She spent her lunch break on the internet, feeling more than a bit silly Googling ‘how does Superman fly?’ and, after wading through various theories and grinning at one answer that simply stated ‘Superman is able to fly due to his fictional state’, she concluded that telekinesis seemed to be the most commonly accepted theory. So, if somehow she has been given the ability to fly all of a sudden, as long as she believes it and visualises herself doing it, it’ll work. She wishes she could be sure and although she’s very sure that she flew down the stairs this morning she wonders if it was a one-off, some kind of weird instinctive reaction that only kicked in because she was tumbling head first towards the front door.

What if she tries and nothing happens? Not only might she do herself an injury but she’s going to feel a proper lemon if she leaps off something only to hit the floor like a sack of spuds. Somewhere soft is what she needs, somewhere quiet which is why, at 8pm on a weekday evening, just as it’s starting to head into darkness, she finds herself standing on a bench in Gunnersbury Park, feeling more than a bit daft but very thankful that there’s no-one around.

Start small, she thinks, just aim to make it from the bench to the grass but in a definite flying motion rather than an undignified leap. Taking a deep breath, she puts her hands down by her sides and tries to relax, breathing out as she uncurls her clenched fists and thinks of only one word, over and over- flying. She lifts her right foot from the bench and steps forward but she panics, her concentration slips and she lands on the grass with a thud, muttering under her breath, “Bugger.”

She climbs back up onto the bench and looks around briefly to make sure there’s still no-one around and when she sees she’s still alone, she tries again. Focusing on the image in her mind of soaring across the sky, high above the streets, the breeze in her face, her hair streaming out behind her, she steps forward and suddenly she’s in the air. For a few long seconds, she hovers, knowing she’s above the ground but without a clue of how to move higher or faster but also knowing she can’t stay hanging forever.

Looking ahead of her, she sees another bench, a short distance across the grass and she wills her body to move in that direction, gasping when she finds herself slowly but very definitely heading towards it. Faster, she dares to think and grins when that’s exactly what happens, her speed starts to build and she’s landing on the bench before she knows it, her feet making barely a sound as she shakes her head in disbelief, “Bloody hell.”

She waits only a few seconds before the itch to go again becomes too much and she thinks faster, higher, further before stepping off the bench and that’s when it happens, the feeling that everyone thinks they’ll have when they wonder what it would be like to fly. Even though she knows she’s going at speed, can tell by the way the air whips past her, by how quickly things are flying by, it feels like she’s gliding, floating almost, up where no human should really be and it’s wonderful, exhilarating, the most amazing sensation ever. Pushing it just a little further, she thinks home and finds herself changing direction, heading over the railway lines, along Chiswick High Road, the familiar shops and pubs way down below her until she finally turns towards home and lands quietly, completely unnoticed, outside her front door.

Closing her eyes briefly and concentrating on trying to control the grin that has been on her face since she stepped off the bench, she lets herself into the house and strolls casually into the kitchen.

“Would it kill you to ring when you know you’re going to be late home, Donna?” her mother snaps.

“I didn’t realise I’d be this late, sorry,” Donna stops and rubs her head slightly, “I-“

“Well, never mind. There’s some dinner left in the fridge but you’ll have to microwave it,” there’s a worried look on Sylvia’s face and when she continues, her voice is softer, “Are you alright?”

“What do you mean, am I alright?” Donna frowns, wondering what her mum might be getting at.

“It’s not a difficult question, Donna,” Sylvia sighs, “Your granddad says you’ve not been feeling very well.”

“Oh, just a couple of headaches, nothing serious. I’m fine.” Donna smiles at her mum, strangely touched by her obviously genuine concern, “He’s up on the hill, is he?”

“Where else?” her mother smiles.

“I’ll pop up and see him, then I’ll microwave that dinner,” she stops as she reaches the back door and turns back, “Thanks, Mum.”

Waiting until her mum has headed out of the kitchen, Donna steps into the garden and closes her eyes. Top of the hill.

She lands behind Wilf, just on the other side of the shed and walks around, resting her hand on his shoulder.

“Didn’t hear you coming up,” he smiles at her, “Your mum having a go at you for being late?”

“A bit, yeah, then she got all weird and wanted to know if I was ok,” Donna shrugs and looks up into the night sky, surprising herself by suddenly feeling as though she knows what it’s like to be way up there, far higher than she flew in the park.

“You are ok, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Blimey Gramps, don’t you start as well! I’m fine,” she grins at him, “You won’t believe what happened today though.”

“Go on, darlin’, try me,” his eyes twinkle as she takes a seat beside him, squeezing his arm gently before resting her head against his shoulder as she starts to tell him about her day.

Fic: Just a Bit Unlikely (2/6)

2009-08-13T17:52:14Z

Title: Just a Bit Unlikely (2/6)
Author: shining_moment
Characters/Pairing: Donna, Ten, Wilf, Sylvia
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1210
Summary: "I'm going to show you something, Gramps and I don't want you to freak out, alright?"
Disclaimer: Oh no, your honour, I would never steal other people's characters and write all kinds of fun for them. If I did, I'd at least make sure it was really good fun...
A/N: Inspired somwhat by David J. Schwartz's book, Superpowers. Set post-JE. A million thank yous to time_converges for looking it over for me :)

Chapter 1

Looking into the mirror, she wonders if she’s not starting to enjoy this just a bit more than she probably should but she’s fairly sure anyone in her situation would enjoy it at least a tiny bit, they’d be mad not to. It’s one of those age old hypothetical questions, ‘what would you do if you were invisible for a day?’ and she’s gone one better than a day, she seems to be able to turn it on and off like a tap.

On Monday she’d sat in her boss’s office, eavesdropping as he and the MD discussed her performance, whether they should consider hiring her on a permanent basis and she only just resisted handing out an invisible slap when he said they probably should, if only based on the fact that she makes the best tea of any temp he’d ever had. Not that it matters, she’d already pretty much made up her mind that this wasn’t the job for her anyway, that she was going to evaluate her life, maybe make a complete change- teaching perhaps or something in the sciences. She’s starting to think this recently acquired little superpower of hers- for want of a better description- is the universe forcing her to believe that she can do so much more than temping for people who seem to appreciate nothing more than her tea-making skills.

The rest of the week saw her trying various things with her newfound invisibility- sitting on the grass watching the children playing on the swings without anyone looking at her like she was a crazy would-be child stealer, slipping behind the bar at Starbucks and adding a mountain of extra whipped cream to her Mocha before slipping out again completely unnoticed. She was tempted to do it while she was driving just to see a couple of horrified expressions on the faces of the other drivers but decided causing a pile-up on the Chiswick roundabout just for a moment of amusement was probably too much.

There have been other things too, little things, helpful things, things that made her feel proud, satisfied that she wasn’t only using this new ability for silliness. Like the student who dropped the pile of papers and whose look of panic was replaced by one of amazement as the papers stayed in a fairly neat heap on the pavement despite the summer breeze blowing the litter on the street all around them. Or the woman who came closer than she realised to losing her bag at the hands of a mugger until Donna stepped in and stuck out her foot, sending him sprawling across the floor.

“Donna?” he mother’s voice carries up the stairs, cutting into her musings and she sighs.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” she replies as she turns and heads out of her bedroom.

“What are you doing up there? Daydreaming, I suppose,” her mother rolls her eyes and doesn’t wait for Donna’s response before she continues, “Make yourself useful, would you? There’s some tea in the pot, take your granddad a cuppa. He’s up on the hill and I haven’t got time to be traipsing all the way up there.”

Nodding, Donna walks past her into the kitchen and takes the thermos from the cupboard, filling it with tea and glancing over her shoulder to make sure her mum is out of sight before grabbing a packet of her granddad’s favourite biscuits to go with it.

#

“Here she is, my favourite granddaughter,” Wilf grins as Donna reaches the top of the hill, tea in hand and biscuits tucked into the pocket of her long cardigan.

“I’m your only granddaughter, Gramps,” she smiles, leaning down and kissing him on the top of the head before opening the small folding chair he always keeps beside the shed, just for her, she likes to think.

“That’s as maybe, sweetheart but even if there were ten of you, you’d still be my favourite,” he says fondly.

She hands him his thermos before pulling the packet of biscuits from her pocket, “Don’t tell Mum, I brought you some Custard Creams.”

“Oh, you’re a good girl,” his grin widens.

“I snuck them out, you’re sneaking them back in,” she smirks.

“Fair enough,” he nods as he opens the packet, “So, what’s up?”

“What makes you ask that? Nothing’s up.”

“Who's that you're trying to convince- me or yourself?” he offers her a biscuit and she shakes her head, “You know you can tell your old Gramps anything, don’t you?”

“Well,” she pauses, wary about telling him but knowing he’d love to know, “If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell Mum, she’d hit the roof.”

“Donna, you’re worrying me now,” he frowns at her.

“I’m serious, Gramps, not a word to her. Promise?”

“Promise,” he replies, his hand squeezing her arm, “Not a word. Now, what’s going on?”

"Remember when I asked you that night why you sit up here, watching the planets, gazing at the stars and all that?"

"I do," he nods, a slightly sad look crossing his face that gives her butterflies in her stomach as it always does, makes her feel like there's some huge secret and she's the only one in the dark about it.

"And do you remember what you said?"

"Whole wide universe out there, Donna, with who knows what- or who- flying about. Stars and planets so far away we've never even discovered them yet, maybe never will," he takes a mouthful of tea and pauses for an instant, "Makes you believe anything's possible, that's why."

"I'm going to show you something, Gramps and I don't want you to freak out, alright?"

"You haven't gone and got one of them tattoos, have you?"

"No," she laughs, "It's a lot more unbelievable than a tattoo. Just watch me, yeah?"

She stares off into the distance over his shoulder, into the dark sky, ignoring the stars, imagining them blinking out one by one as she focuses again on making her physical being do the very same thing. She can tell by the look on her granddad's face that it's working, and she giggles at the biscuit that was in his hand falling completely unnoticed onto the grass.

"Donna?" he whispers, looking right at her but she knows seeing only an empty chair.

"I'm here, Gramps," she says, still smiling, "You can hear me, right?"

"What the-?" he stops leaning closer as if somehow he'll be able to see her that way.

"I can't explain it, it happened last week, on the flippin' bus of all places and I've got no idea why, just that one minute I was normal, next minute I was invisible."

"Just like that?" he reaches for a biscuit and she grins at how even something as ridiculously unlikely as his granddaughter becoming invisible won't put Wilfred Mott off his Custard Creams for long.

"I wish I could explain it, Gramps but yeah, just like that."

"Blimey," he says taking a bite of his biscuit.

"Yeah," she focuses on bringing the stars back one by one, visualising her hair, her eyes, every constellation shaped set of freckles on both of her arms until finally, she's back, she knows he can see her again and she smiles, "Blimey."

Fic: Just a Bit Unlikely (1/6)

2009-08-11T19:21:52Z

Title: Just a Bit Unlikely (1/6)
Author: shining_moment
Characters/Pairing: Donna, Ten, Wilf, Sylvia
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1347
Summary: The first time Donna realises something isn’t right is when a woman sits in her lap.
Disclaimer: Oh no, your honour, I would never steal other people's characters and write all kinds of fun for them. If I did, I'd at least make sure it was really good fun...
A/N: Inspired somwhat by David J. Schwartz's book, Superpowers. Set post-JE. A million thank yous to time_converges for looking it over for me :)

The first time Donna realises something isn’t right is when a woman sits in her lap.

Now yes, crazy people are often found travelling by bus- it’s cheap, it’s warm, you can ride around all day and, if you’re on the right route, you get some nice views. This woman didn’t seem crazy though, she gets on the bus, wearing a sensible jacket, sensible shoes and carrying a few bags of shopping. Donna doesn’t pay her any more attention than she does any of the other passengers, no more than the usual glance towards the doors as they open, a moment of natural curiosity before turning back to look out of the window, to wonder if it might ever stop raining this summer. So, when the woman moves closer to her, Donna assumes she's going to sit in the empty seat beside her, never dreaming that she would try to settle herself and her shopping in Donna’s lap.

“Um, you know it’s the seat next to me that’s free, not the one I’m actually sitting in?!” Donna practically yells, expecting that the woman will apologise, say she was distracted, move away, sit down in the actual empty seat, whatever. Anything other than sitting in Donna’s lap will work.

She doesn’t quite expect the squeal that rips from the woman like she’s just seen a ghost, doesn’t expect her to stand up again and, as her discarded shopping causes havoc rolling all over the floor, start prodding Donna curiously in the arm, which is exactly what she does do, her mouth wide open the entire time.

“Oh bugger this!” Donna stands and squeezes past the woman, “I always end up with the nutjobs sitting next to me.”

The bus reaches the next stop, the doors spring open and Donna steps out, muttering angrily at first before her anger turns to confusion as she sees the woman and several other passengers staring in her direction as the bus pulls away. Turning, she walks around the outside of the bus shelter, needing to see her reflection in the glass to try and figure out why a bus load of random strangers were staring at her like she was oddest sight they’d seen all day.

As she stares into the glass, her mouth drops open in shock. At least she thinks it does, it feels like it does but she can’t see it, she can’t see anything other than the advertisement hanging in front of her. She lifts her hand up in front of her face but sees nothing, looks down at the length of her body but again sees nothing. Donna Noble has no idea how it’s happened but it seems that since she left the house just hours earlier she’s become invisible.

#

She realises there’s no point in panicking, invisible and frantic won’t help anyone. Donna’s always been good in a crisis so she sits down at the bus stop, ignoring the rain and thinks about her day. She left the house as usual this morning, said bye to her mum and granddad who didn’t say anything weird like ‘just a sec, Donna, we can hear you but we can’t see you’ so everything must have been normal. She got on the bus, no-one sat on her, got off the bus, got served coffee, went to work, got on the bus again, invisible.

Shit.

She knows if this were a film, she’d be delighted, it’d be all ‘great, I’m invisible, I can run around causing all kind of trouble now’. No-one in films ever panics, ever wonders how the hell it happened or, more importantly, how they’re going to fix it since, for most people, being invisible really isn’t practical. The film that springs to mind is Ghost even though it isn’t the same because she isn’t dead- at least she really hopes she isn’t dead- but the idea is there, the scene where Patrick Swayze’s character is learning how to kick the Coke can. It was all about energy and focus, she seems to remember, so maybe that’s what she needs to do.

Standing she faces the glass again and stares at the spot where she assumes her face should be, imagining how her reflection looked earlier that morning as she was putting on her make-up, straightening her hair. She thinks about the exact shade of her hair, the shade she hated so passionately when she was younger and really only came to appreciate recently and as she visualises it, she sees it start to appear in the glass.

She exhales and concentrates harder, picturing the colour of her eyes, the new eye liner she was so pleased with when she applied it, blinking and focusing on the feel of her eyelids closing over the blue eyes that she can’t quite see. Opening them, she's relieved to see her own wry smile looking back at her as she looks down to see that the rest of her body seems to have returned too.

A bus pulls into the stop and several people get off but she doesn’t get on, instead turning and running down the street, faster than she ever thought was possible, not stopping until she reaches home and slams the front door shut behind her.

#

“Do you always have to slam the door like that?” Donna rolls her eyes at the sound of Sylvia’s voice, “Where have you been anyway?”

“Nowhere,” Donna leans against the door, catching her breath and going over in her mind what just happened, “I just got off the bus early, decided to walk.”

“Walk? It’s raining buckets out there,” Sylvia appears in the hall and raises her eyebrows, “I don’t know what you’re thinking sometimes, Donna, honestly.”

“I’m not likely to die if I get a bit wet, Mum,” Donna snaps before she heads upstairs, stopping as she reaches the top and hears her grandad’s voice.

“Leave her be, she’s not been back long, it’ll take her a bit to settle again.”

Donna takes off her wet jacket and hangs it up before looking into the mirror, relieved that everything seems to look as it should, wondering again why her mum and granddad keep talking as though she’s been away when she has no recollection of having gone anywhere. Maybe she’ll get Gramps on his own and ask him, see if he can shed some light on the fact that his granddaughter seems to have developed the ability to become invisible.

Her curiosity gets the better of her and she can't help wondering what it would be like to be invisible but only when it suited her- like when Barry from the library refuses to take the hint and keeps talking to her, insisting they'd make a lovely couple, when she's just trying to find a couple of books for the commute. Or when the queue at Starbucks is huge and she's already running late, what it might be like to pop behind the bar and make her own grande hazelnut latte.

She turned it off by focusing all her energy into really picturing herself in that glass, her hair, her eyes, all the contours and lines of her face that, as a woman of her age, she generally tries not to focus on. It stands to reason then that it should work in reverse, she thinks and she walks over and closes the bedroom door quietly before returning to the mirror.

Starting by picturing her hair as a dull, colourless mass, one that could blend in with any background, she moves onto thinking of her eyes as transparent orbs, no blue, no colour at all and then her skin, imagining it without all the freckles, without any hint of colour at all. With that image in her mind, she closes her eyes and keeps thinking of herself like that- dull, colourless, bland Donna- just as her mother thinks she is. When she opens her eyes, she knows she's grinning but she can't see it because somehow, Donna has again become invisible and this time she made it happen.

Drabble: Umbrella

2009-08-06T21:55:01Z

Title: Umbrella
Author: shining_moment
Characters/Pairing: Ten/Donna
Rating: G
Word Count: 100
Summary: Written for the Weekly Drabble Challenge #18 at doctor_donna, prompt word 'addiction'. Fluff, I'm afraid...
Disclaimer: The BBC stole them from me, quite frankly.
A/N: Inspired while on the 337 bus earlier this evening gazing at the weather outside. Who says public transport is bad? :)

They step outside and he stops suddenly, “Forgotten something, be right back.”

He reappears, yellow bag in hand, grinning widely.

“You and your Jelly Baby addiction,” she smiles.

“I forgotted something too,” a small voice speaks up from beside Donna, “I get it.”

She’s back in seconds, pink umbrella clutched in her tiny hands, smiling up at her parents.

“But darling, it’s not raining,” Donna says patiently, as sweet brown eyes stare hopefully up at her.

A sudden flash of blue light is followed by a faint sprinkling of rain and the Doctor winks at Donna, “There, it is now.”

Drabble: Satisfied

2009-08-02T17:58:18Z

Title: Satisfied
Author: shining_moment
Characters/Pairing: Ten, Donna
Rating: G
Word Count: 100
Summary: Yet again, another one written for the Weekly Drabble Challenge # 17 (prompt word 'Touch') at doctor_donna
Author's Notes: Little sequel to Craving, seed planted by the evil (yet lovely) katherine_b
Disclaimer: Full sized Ten and Donna? So not mine. Mini!Ten and Mini!Donna? All mine to do with what I like. Hee.

She reaches for him, an uncontrollable and overwhelming need to feel his hand in hers. He looks up, a flicker of surprise, a fleeting question in his eyes and, feeling suddenly silly, she tries to pull her hand back.

“Sorry,” her cheeks flush faintly.

He stills her hand, covering it softly with his own, awaiting her answer to his silent question.

“It’s just,” she smiles, avoiding his intense chocolate gaze, “This, your hand, your touch...I missed it. Silly, I know.”

“No, “his thumb strokes slowly across the back of her hand, relief obvious in his smile, “Not silly at all.”

Drabble: Pretty

2009-08-01T10:26:05Z

Title: Pretty
Author: shining_moment
Characters/Pairing: Ten/Donna
Rating: G
Word Count: 100
Summary: Ok, this is the last one written for the Weekly Drabble Challenge # 17 (prompt word 'Touch') at doctor_donna and it's fluff, pure fluff.
Disclaimer: The full sized versions still aren't mine but Mini Donna has seen the error of her diva like behaviour and is much sweeter this morning.

Grabbing her hand before it lands on the intended target, he smiles at her frustrated sigh.

“No, sweetie,” he whispers, gently squeezing her fingers.

“Pretty,” she says, gesturing to the long red hair of her mother.

“Yes, pretty,” he agrees, “But we don’t want to wake Mummy up from her nap yet, do we?”

“Yep,” she nods and he bites back a chuckle, scooping her up into his arms and settling them both into an armchair.

“Sometimes,” they gaze adoringly at centre of their world, sleeping soundly, “We can look at the pretty things but not touch, ok?”

“Ok, Daddy.”

Drabble: Craving

2009-07-31T18:05:44Z

Title: Craving
Author: shining_moment
Characters/Pairing: Ten, Donna
Rating: G
Word Count: 100
Summary: Yup, me again with another one written for the Weekly Drabble Challenge # 17 (prompt word 'Touch') at doctor_donna
Author's Notes: Post JE so not really happy!fic...
Disclaimer: The full sized versions still aren't mine but Mini Donna seems much less stroppy since she figured out how to remove the coat and I figured out how to turn off the radiator.

They have dinner, he seems like a nice bloke but she’s not interested, can’t force her smile to reach her eyes. In the dark and confused corners of her mind she knows he’s not right and when he tries to take her hand she flinches, pulls away from his touch, feeling guilty at the look of embarrassment in his eyes but somehow unable to stand the thought of holding a hand that isn’t the one she wants.

As she lies in bed, tears running slowly down her face, she wonders if she’ll ever know whose touch it is she craves.

Drabble: Magic Touch

2009-07-30T21:27:37Z

Title: Magic Touch
Author: shining_moment
Characters/Pairing: Ten, Donna
Rating: G
Word Count: 100
Summary: Yup, me again with another one written for the Weekly Drabble Challenge # 17 (prompt word 'Touch') at doctor_donna
Disclaimer: Previous disclaimer upgraded to say that, due to my slightly bonkers flatmate putting the heating on (yes, in July), mini Donna has somehow managed to remove her giant coat and is lying on the floor fanning herself with a sweet wrapper. The full sized versions still aren't mine though.

“It’s nothing, just a headache,” she frowns, rubbing her temple.

Stepping closer, he reaches for her, his hands brushing her hair aside, his eyes fixed on hers as she silently questions his movement.

His touch is light, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles across her skin and she sighs, closing her eyes, hearing his reassurance without a single word spoken. She feels something else, something she can’t name and a warm glow spreads through her body.

The ache subsides, her eyes open and he smiles, “Better?”

The intensity of his gaze renders her briefly speechless but she recovers, smiling back, “Much.”

Drabble: His Favourite Sense

2009-07-28T19:30:19Z

Title: His Favourite Sense
Author: shining_moment
Characters/Pairing: Ten/Donna
Rating: PG
Word Count: 100
Summary: Written for the Weekly Drabble Challenge # 17 (prompt word 'Touch') at doctor_donna
Disclaimer: Every day I check, every day my little action figures refuse to regenerate into the full sized versions. To be fair, Donna would boil in my bedroom in that coat anyway.

Hearing…her soft, sleepy morning yawns, his name on her tongue, her infectious laugh.

Smell…coconut and vanilla, her scent, he breathes her in, basks in her sweet aroma.

Taste…the salty tang of her skin beneath him, the honey tinged essence dancing across his tongue as he savours her full lips.

Sight…bright fiery hair, eyes as blue as the ocean depths, a collection of smiles each sending his hearts aflutter.

Touch…his favourite sense, the soft press of her kisses to his skin, their bodies moving together, her hand sliding into his as the universe falls away and everything stops, everything is complete.

Drabble: No Contest

2009-07-21T17:36:19Z

Title: No Contest
Author: shining_moment
Characters/Pairing: Ten/Donna
Rating: G, on the approach to PG perhaps...
Word Count: 100
Summary: Fluff, pure fluff. Written for the Weekly Drabble Challenge #16 (prompt word- 'soft') at doctor_donna (yep, I know I already wrote one and promise to stop spamming the world after this one)
Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.

“I love this,” his hand rests on her stomach, his eyes fixed on hers.

“What?” her breath catches as his finger circles her navel.

“This,” his lips press against her neck, “These gorgeous curves, how soft you are. I could lie here forever, just watching you.”

“The whole universe out there and you‘d lie here and watch me,” she sighs faintly as his hand moves lower, “You’re mad, you are.”

“Hmm, the diamond coral reefs of Kaata Flo Ko or the incredible curves of Donna Noble,“ his lips touch hers softly, his fingers stroking slowly across her face, “No contest.”

Drabble: Too Soft

2009-07-20T17:27:05Z

Title: Too Soft
Author: shining_moment
Characters/Pairing: Ten, Donna
Rating: G
Word Count: 100
Summary: Takes place right after Partners in Crime. Written for the Weekly Drabble Challenge #16 (prompt word- 'soft') at doctor_donna
Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.

“Yes?” he asks, hopefully.

“Too soft,” she frowns, “I’m driving you mad, aren’t I?”

“No,” he says, “It’s fine, I want you to be comfortable.”

“You know, you’re really quite sweet,” she stands, looping her arm through his.

“I try,” he grins, “You keep going, I’ll make some tea.”

Tea in hand, he finds her stretched out on a huge bed in a room he’s never seen.

“Well?”

“Perfect,” she grins, shrugging, “I like a firm mattress.”

“Good to know,” he grins back as he sits down beside her, “Tea?”

Taking the mug, she nudges his shoulder, “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Fic: Faith (2/2)

2009-07-12T18:35:01Z

Title: Faith (2/2)
Author: shining_moment
Characters/Pairing: Ten/Donna
Rating: G
Word Count: 1474
Summary: Donna stands opposite him and says nothing, just concentrates on keeping the lump in her throat under control, fearing that if she starts to cry she might never stop.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Doctor or Donna. They own me ;)
A/N: Post JE...yup, more fix-it fic. Big thanks to time_converges for her valued opinion on this when I was having a minor wibble...

“Go through to the kitchen. It’s ok, no-one’s home,” she smiles as he looks obviously relieved that he isn’t going to have to face Sylvia just yet.

She follows him into the kitchen, Amelia in her arms, her infant fists clenched in what may just be anger at being removed from her cosy pram. Donna makes soothing noises for a few seconds before walking over to where he stands, slightly awkwardly, in the middle of the kitchen. He shrugs off his coat and places it over the back of one of the chairs before turning to face her.

“Amelia Faith Noble, say hello to your daddy,” she kisses her daughter on the head as she places her into his arms.

He looks down at her, fussing slightly, not crying, just curious about this new and slightly nervous pair of arms she’s landed in. He strokes a finger slowly down the soft skin of her cheek, smiling as her pout relaxes slightly and her eyes come to focus on his face. She smells sweet, of powder and of Donna and all he wants is to hold onto her and breathe in the scent forever.

“Hello, little girl,” he whispers as she grabs for his finger and curls her own tiny digits around it.

Donna stands opposite him and says nothing, just concentrates on keeping the lump in her throat under control, fearing that if she starts to cry she might never stop.

“She’s perfect, Donna, just…perfect,” he looks up at her and she nods, smiling as she watches her daughter gazing up at her father’s face, two sets of identical eyes meeting properly for the first time, “She is healthy, isn’t she?”

“Ten fingers, ten toes,” she reaches over and runs her hand gently over the baby’s head, “Red hair, brown eyes, developing exactly as she should be so yep, perfect.”

“So…” he stops, raising his eyebrows at her and waiting.

“Well,“ she pauses,“ Let’s sit.“

They sit down at the kitchen table, Amelia now seeming quite comfortable in the Doctor’s arms as Donna smiles at the sight of the two of them together, a sight she had feared she may never see. “As far as I knew, I’d had an accident and my memory had been affected- that’s what they told me after you brought me back- so finding out I was pregnant was a bit of a bloody shock, to say the least.”

“I’m so-”

“Don’t say you’re sorry, please,” she stops him, her hand on his arm, “I know why you did it and if things had been different I’d probably have been as mad as hell with you but…”

She tails off and he nods, knowing what she’s saying, “But you were already pregnant, you just didn’t know it yet.”

“Yeah,“ she confirms, “So if you hadn’t done it, it’s not just me that wouldn’t have been here today.”

Neither of them says anything, both just looking at Amelia, still tightly squeezing her father’s finger and studying his face carefully.

“Anyway,” she exhales slowly before she continues, “Gramps said you- well, her father- worked away a lot, did something really important and had no choice but to go for good. He said he knew you loved me and you’d be here if you could be.”

“And your mum?” he dares to ask.

“Well, you know my mum,” she smiles slightly, “She’s been a lot better since Amelia was born though, she’s totally smitten.”

“I can understand that,” he runs his thumb over Amelia’s hand and whispers, “Thank you for saving me from your scary grandma.”

“God, don’t be calling her grandma or there’ll be nothing that can save you,” Donna says before pausing briefly, “You know, for a while, I wondered if I’d had some secret affair with a politician and the government had done some kind of memory wipe to stop me letting on to anyone. Stupid, eh?”

“Not really, given the circumstances,” he shakes his head, his expression turning sad.

“I started having these awful dreams, really vivid, terrifying dreams but when I Googled it, it turned out nightmares are quite common when you’re pregnant so I just put them down to that and tried not to think about them.”

“So, it wasn’t until she was born that you remembered?” he asks as he looks down at Amelia.

“The day after she was born. I’d love to tell you there was some big, dramatic life-or-death situation but there wasn’t, it just happened. I finally got some sleep and when I woke up it was like someone had just put all the memories back in while I wasn’t looking. It was funny though, I could handle thinking about all the big, saving the world, scary alien stuff we did together but it was the little things that were the hardest to cope with.”

“I‘ll bet they‘re the same things I struggled to cope with,” he says, “Getting used to just making one cup of tea again and realising how much I missed you teasing me about eating all the biscuits.”

“Those rare mornings when I’d actually wake up first and I could just watch you sleeping,” she nods, smiling as she remembers.

“The first time we kissed- properly, I mean, not for the detox-”

“After the library,” she finishes his sentence just as she so often did.

“Yeah, after the library,” he nods and they both fall silent, the Doctor remembering how devastated Donna was by what she lost in the virtual world, Donna remembering how guilty he felt for landing her there in the first place.

“I missed you so, so much,” Donna breaks the silence first, “I was so desperate for you to meet her, to see how beautiful she is, to hold her like that.”

“I wish I’d known,” he says sadly, looking from her blue eyes to Amelia’s brown ones, so like his own, “I wish I could have been here.”

“I wanted to find you but I just didn’t know how,” she reaches over and rests her hand on his, “Gramps hadn’t seen you, Martha said the phone she left with you wasn’t working anymore and I had a new baby so I wasn’t exactly in a position to go running around looking for you like last time.”

“The one time I actually behave myself and stay away and it turns out to be the one time I really should have ignored what seemed like the right thing and just got the hell down here anyway,” he shakes his head, frowning.

“I told you, I didn’t remember until after she was born so you couldn’t really have just waltzed in, all ‘hey, Donna, you don’t know me but I‘m the father of the bun you‘ve got in the oven there‘, could you?”

“Probably wouldn’t have gone down too well, would it?” he grins.

“No, not so much,” she grins back, “I just had to hope that the universe meant for me to find you, that you were my destiny and when I saw you walking towards me today, I knew I was right.”

“That’s why you named her Faith,” he looks down at the baby in his arms, whose eyes have now drifted shut but whose hand still grasps her father’s finger as if to remind him she’s there, as though he could ever forget.

“It seemed right,” she replies, smiling as she sees her daughter now sleeping.

“Should we, um-” he gestures to the baby and Donna nods, standing up and carefully prising his finger free from Amelia’s grasp.

“She’ll sleep for a while if we put her down now,” Donna looks at her watch and the Doctor moves to hand their daughter over, “You can take her. I mean, only if you want to.”

“Come on,” he keeps one arm wrapped securely around Amelia and pulls Donna close to him with the other, “Lead the way, Ms Noble.”

#

“I spent the first week just doing this,” Donna says, her voice low.

“Doing what?” he asks, curious.

“Standing here just watching her sleep. Then I realised if I didn’t sleep when she did, I might die of exhaustion,” she smiles, moving over to sit on the bed.

She watches him gazing in wonder at their sleeping daughter and after a few seconds he turns, apparently sensing her eyes on him. Smiling, he walks across the room, sitting beside her on the bed and taking hold of her hand, “Lie down with me.”

They lie face to face, fingers entwined, so close their noses touch, their lips press together, his breath mingling with hers, her skin soft against his as her tired eyes focus gratefully on his.

“It’s going to be ok now, isn’t it?” she murmurs softly.

He kisses her once more before her eyes slide shut, whispering, “It’s going to be brilliant.”

Fic: Faith (1/2)

2009-07-12T00:09:26Z

Title: Faith (1/2)
Author: shining_moment
Characters/Pairing: Ten/Donna
Rating: G
Word Count: 956
Summary: As she reaches him, he smiles, certain she must be able to hear his hearts crashing against his chest. She smiles back, a curious smile of vague recognition that makes him sad, makes him wish she was running at him and hugging him instead.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Doctor or Donna. They own me ;)
A/N: Post JE...yup, more fix-it fic. Big thanks to time_converges for her valued opinion on this when I was having a minor wibble...

He still misses her every day with a pain that feels like it will never lessen. He misses the feel of her hand in his, the gentle press of her lips against his skin, the ripple of her laughter in his ear, the sweet smell of her hair as it tickles his chest.

He hasn’t been back since he left her, hasn’t dared to but he’s wanted to, so badly it hurts. Every time he meets anyone new, he finds himself comparing them to her, wishing she was still with him and desperately aching to see her but he’s always resisted.

Until today.

He finds himself walking down a street close to where the Nobles’ house stands and he sees her walking towards him, the sight stopping him in his tracks, the sound of his hearts thundering in his ears. Her hair is curly and pulled back into a loose ponytail, reminding him of all the times he would pull it free and run his fingers through it, gently caressing her head as she would smile and close her eyes. She looks healthy, her eyes are shining, her skin bright, luminous even.

As she reaches him, he smiles, certain she must be able to hear his hearts crashing against his chest. She smiles back, a curious smile of vague recognition that makes him sad, makes him wish she was running at him and hugging him instead.

“Hello, it’s Donna, isn’t it?” he asks, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“It is, yeah,” she pauses, “Sorry, we’ve met, haven’t we? I just-“

“John Smith,” he interrupts, “I’m a friend of your Grandad's.”

“Of course, I remember, sorry,” she gestures down at the pram in front of her, smiling at him, “Lack of sleep.”

“And this is?” he tails off, peering into the pram, his breath catching at the sight of the sleeping baby with the soft tufts of red hair and the perfect pink rosebud lips.

“Amelia,” Donna says, smiling down at the baby who wrinkles her nose and makes a faint snuffling noise but doesn’t wake.

“Oh my, she’s beautiful,” he says, unable to tear his eyes from the tiny girl, wondering if her smile will curve in the same way as Donna's, if her eyes will sparkle with the same mischief of her mother's.

"She is now, yeah," Donna smiles, "Now she doesn't look like a wrinkly old fella like she did at first. I almost called her Wilf."

"Good name," he manages to smile back at her, "Maybe not for a little girl though. How old is she?"

"Three months," Donna leans down to reposition the blanket her daughter has just kicked off and that's when the baby chooses to wake up, opening her eyes and blinking once, twice before settling her gaze on her mother. The Doctor doesn't even need to think about how long it's been since he brought Donna home because the familiar brown eyes now looking in his direction tell him everything he needs to know.

"Are you happy?" he blurts out before he has a chance to think about what he's saying, "Sorry, it's none of my business."

"It's fine," she looks at him and nods her head slowly, "And I am, yeah. I mean, she was a bit of a shock but sometimes things happen for a reason, don't you think? Almost like destiny. Do you believe in destiny?"

"I," he pauses, nodding, "I do, yes."

"It's like she filled a huge gap in my life that I didn't know really needed filling, if that doesn't sound too stupid?"

"You could never sound stupid," he says, fondly, before remembering he was trying to aim for casual, “I’m glad, I mean, you know, I’m happy for you.”

"Oh, for crying out loud, Spaceman," his eyebrows raise in complete disbelief as she reaches out and takes his hand, tangling her fingers tightly in his, "Say hello to your daughter, will you?"

"Wha-? Donna?" he splutters, his mouth dropping open as he looks back at her, then down at the little girl in the pram before finding himself wrapped in the arms he's missed so much, her scent all around him, her breath on his face as he closes his eyes, hoping he won't open them to find this has been another cruel dream.

She pulls back and looks into his eyes, stroking his cheekbones tenderly with her thumbs as tears spill down her face as she smiles. She kisses him, her lips warm and soft on his, her hands moving to the back of his neck, her fingers raking through his hair before she pulls away and rests her forehead against his.

"I missed you so much, once I remembered you," she whispers, closing her eyes briefly as he squeezes her hand, bringing back so many memories with that one simple gesture, "Did you miss me?"

"Every minute of every day," he states solemnly, swallowing hard as he looks into her eyes with an intense chocolate gaze identical to the one she's been faced with ever since their daughter arrived.

"You're going to want to know what happened, aren't you?" she asks, smiling as he wipes the tears from her face, "How my head didn’t explode and all that."

"Well," he glances down at Amelia, still awake but making no sound, just looking adoringly at Donna, "Is she always this placid?"

"Surprisingly, she pretty much is, yeah," Donna steps back from the pram and gestures for him to take hold, grinning as his eyes widen in what looks like fear. Looping her arm through his, she kisses him quickly on the cheek, "Tea, I think we need tea. Come on, I think we‘ve got some catching up to do."

Drabble: Don't Let Go

2009-07-08T08:12:27Z

Title: Don't Let Go
Author: shining_moment
Characters/Pairing: Ten, Donna
Rating: G
Word Count: 100
Summary: Written for the Weekly Drabble Challenge #14 (Lost) at doctor_donna
Disclaimer: I currently own the cough of doom but still don't own Donna or the Doctor

“Um, where are we?” she asks, looking around, noticing what everyone has in common.

“Planet Ginger!” he announces, striding ahead, so quickly she has to run to catch up with him.

When she does, she grabs his hand and threads her fingers tightly through his.

“You alright?” he asks, concerned.

“Just don’t let go, Spaceman,” she says, “If you lost me here, you might never find me again.”

“No way,“ he turns to her, his hand squeezing hers, his gaze so intense that she feels a slow shiver run through her body as he speaks, “I’ll always find you, Donna.”

Fic: Close Call- Going Home; Timestamp requested by sonicgirl2005

2009-07-07T18:22:27Z

In response to the Timestamp Meme, sonicgirl2005 wanted to see what happens when they tell Donna's family about the whole 'incident' in "Close Call", after their little trip to Egypt in the first Timestamp request for Close Call (here)

Title: Close Call- Going Home
Author: shining_moment>
Characters/Pairing: Ten, Donna
Rating: G
Summary: “Hospital?” Sylvia’s tone changes and there’s suddenly concern evident in her voice, “What‘s wrong, Donna?”
Word Count: 1944
Author's Notes: This was requested about 400 years ago. I can only apologise for it taking so long!

“Now, if there’s anything more urgent that we need to sort out, this can wait, you know. We can go whenever, it doesn’t have to be today.”

He walks over to where she’s pacing across the kitchen, biting her lip nervously and he rests his hands on her shoulders, “It doesn’t have to be today, no, but we do need to go back at some point and tell them what happened so it may as well be sooner rather than later, don’t you think?”

“I suppose so,” Donna sighs, knowing he’s right but knowing her mother well enough to expect the worst, “She’s going to go mental though, I just know it. First she’ll assume I was doing something stupid, then she’ll decide that actually it was all your fault and both of us will get it in the neck.”

“Come here,” he pulls her towards him, chuckling faintly as he wraps his arms around her and rests his chin on the top of her head, “Let her blame me, if it helps.”

“Oh no, don’t be giving me that, Spaceman,” she pulls her head back and looks up at him, her hands on his chest, fingers drumming lightly, unconsciously, “We’ve been over this- it wasn’t your fault. I wasn’t quick enough, it just happened and anyway, I’m fine now, right?”

“Right,” he smiles and tries not to think about how close he came to losing her, instead concentrating on her bright eyes and healthy skin as she stands in front of him now, “So, Chiswick?”

“You‘re not going to let me put it off any longer, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Come on then, let‘s get it over with,” she smiles back at him, stepping out of his arms to let him move towards the console, “At least Gramps won’t try and kill you.”

#

“I was only saying last night how I was hoping you’d pop in soon and here you are!” Wilf hugs Donna and pats the Doctor enthusiastically on the back, “How are you both?”

“Pretty good, thanks, Wilf,” the Doctor grins, “How are you?”

“Apart from missing my girl here, of course, I’m alright, thanks,” he starts to walk towards the kitchen, “Come on, let’s get the kettle on and you can tell me what you’ve been up to.”

“Mum not in?” Donna asks as she and the Doctor follow Wilf down the hallway.

“Just popped out for milk, darlin’. Perfect timing, eh?” he grins as he fills the kettle, turning back to Donna, “It’s been a while, is everything alright?”

“I know it’s been too long, Gramps, sorry. It doesn’t mean I haven’t missed you though,” she squeezes his arm gently as she continues, “Now that we are here, there’s something we need to tell you both, something that’ll sort of explain why we haven’t been around much lately,” Donna glances at the Doctor then looks back at Wilf whose eyes light up as he beams at the two of them.

“Hang on, you two aren’t- you know, you haven’t come to tell your mother to get her hat out of storage, have you?”

“What? No, Gramps! Nothing like that,” Donna feels herself blushing slightly and inwardly curses her fair skin.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I just thought- well, my mistake,” he looks at the Doctor and grins before turning to get the cups from the cupboard.

As he does, the front door opens and the Doctor feels Donna tense beside him as her mother’s footsteps approach the kitchen.

“Hi Mum,” Donna says, sounding more enthusiastic than she feels, “Everything alright?”

“Well, if you two had bothered to let us know you were coming, I could have asked you to pick up milk on your way,” she says as she puts her bag down on the table before handing the milk to Wilf.

“Sorry, I didn’t think-“

“No, I don’t suppose you did,” Sylvia interrupts, glaring first at Donna then at the Doctor, “Been busy, have you? Off travelling or whatever it is the two of you get up to? I doubt you got those freckles in Southend, did you?”

“No,” Donna replies, “Egypt, actually. We just got back.”

“Egypt?” Sylvia looks surprised, “You didn’t think much of it last time.”

“Well, I did this time, it was lovely,” she smiles at the Doctor before turning back to her mother, “Thing is, Mum, it was a bit more than a holiday. We-“

“Oh good lord, you haven’t gone and married him, have you?” her mother’s voice is dripping with disapproval and Donna feel herself getting annoyed, despite her best efforts.

“What I was about to say is that we went away because the hospital told me some rest and relaxation would do me good, help with my recovery-“

“Hospital?” Sylvia’s tone changes and there’s suddenly concern evident in her voice, “What‘s wrong, Donna?”

“I had a bit of an accident- well, kind of-“ she stops and the Doctor reaches down and takes her hand, earning a raised eyebrow from Sylvia as Donna continues, “Please don’t freak out, Mum, but I got shot, a few weeks ago and-“

“Shot?” Sylvia’s mouth falls open and she sits down on the other side of Donna.

“Sweetheart, why didn’t you tell us?” Wilf turns from where he was making tea and frowns at his granddaughter.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you in the dark but we were- well, we weren’t in London so I didn’t want to worry you and then once I got out of hospital we decided to go away and relax a bit after everything,” Donna stops, exhaling slowly and giving them what she hopes is a reassuring smile, “I’m fine now though, really.”

“Glad to hear it,” Wilf leans down and kisses the top of her head, “Take more than a bullet to stop you, eh, darlin’?”

“Looks that way, Gramps,” Donna smiles at him.

“Well, I’m glad you can smile about it, madam,” Sylvia says, turning to the Doctor, “And where were you while she was getting shot? Off doing some shopping, bit of DIY maybe?”

“Mum, please,” Donna responds, “It wasn’t his fault-”

“Oh no, it never is, is it?,” Donna flinches slightly at Sylvia’s withering tone, “The Doctor can do no wrong, I know-“

“Stop it, Mum! Not only was it not his fault but he saved my life,” Donna raises her voice and holds onto the Doctor’s hand a little tighter, “Before we got to the hospital, I stopped breathing twice and if he hadn’t been there I’d be dead so maybe you should be thanking him rather than having a pop at him.”

“If her hadn’t been there, it probably wouldn’t have happened at all,“ Sylvia snaps before falling into silence for a few seconds and taking a deep, slightly shaky breath as she goes on, “So, it was quite serious then?”

“The bullet hit Donna in the shoulder,” the Doctor speaks up for the first time since Sylvia arrived home, glancing at Donna who nods for him to continue, “Thankfully, it didn’t do any permanent damage but she did lose a lot of blood and we were, well, we were quite a way from a hospital and it didn’t look good for a while, really didn‘t look good…”

“Hey,” Donna senses the shift in his mood as his sentence tails off, and she rests her hand on his knee, squeezing softly, “Don’t get all maudlin on me, I‘m fine now, aren‘t I?”

“Sorry, I know,” he turns to her and for a moment it’s like they’re alone in the room, “It was just too close, that’s all.”

“I know,” she nods, smiling softly at him, “But this bullet proof vest of mine should do the trick even if it will look a bit daft with a swimsuit. Mind you, if it‘s all over the high street next season, I‘ll regret not copyrighting it.”

“Donna Noble, setting new trends wherever she goes,” he grins, his mood lightened as it so often is by her teasing humour.

“Yup, that’s me,” she grins back before suddenly seeming to remember where they are and turning to her mother, “So yeah, it was quite serious but it could have been a lot worse.”

“And you’re completely fine now?” Sylvia frowns.

“Yep, totally and with a cracking war wound to boot,” Donna says, pulling her top aside slowly, surprising the Doctor given the struggle she’s had dealing with the scar.

“Oh,” Sylvia peers at her daughter’s shoulder, “It’s really not so bad, Donna.”

“No, I suppose not,” Donna agrees, “I‘m just happy to still be here.”

“And we’re very happy to have you,” Wilf says, resting his hand on Donna’s other shoulder, before glancing at Sylvia, “Aren’t we, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” Sylvia replies, quietly, looking intently at her daughter, “I know I’m probably asking the impossible given the way you two are always running all over the place but please try and be careful. You’re my only child, Donna and I can’t bear the thought of anything like this happening again.”

“Careful is my new middle name, Mum, I promise,” Donna smiles at her.

“And, well,” Sylvia hesitates as she looks at the Doctor, “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like that this happened at all but still, thank you for what you did.”

#

“I’d say that went ok, wouldn’t you?” the Doctor doesn’t look up as he speaks, concentrating instead on the kitchen table.

“Well, she didn’t slap you and she didn’t call me stupid so yeah, I suppose it did go ok,” Donna walks over to where he’s sitting, “What are you doing?”

“Ah,” he looks sheepish for just a fraction of a second as he glances up at her and then back down at the piles of jelly babies on the table in front of him, “Well, I like the green ones, you like the yellow ones so I thought if I split them now, we’d waste less time slapping each other’s hands out of the way when we go for the bag at the same time. See?”

“I don’t quite know what to say to that,” she smiles at him, shaking her head slightly in an effort to fight the unexpected urge to run her fingers through the hairs at the base of his neck.

“Just ‘thanks, Doctor, you’re so thoughtful’. That’ll do,” he beams at her, a cheeky twinkle in his eyes.

“You’re insane,” she states as she reaches for the table.

“That works too, I suppose,” he shrugs, staring for perhaps a beat longer than he should as she pops a yellow jelly baby into her mouth and slowly starts to chew.

Grinning as she swallows the sweet, she gives in to the urge and strokes her fingers across the back of his neck so fleetingly that he wonders if he imagined it.

“Right, some proper dinner, I think,” she says as she turns away and he hears the smile in her voice, “You may be able to exist on sugar alone but I need some real food.”

“You up to a random stop? Wherever we land, we eat the most popular local dish,” he stands up and moves towards the door, waiting for her response before going any further.

“Go on then,” she turns back to face him, “And make it good, Spaceman.”

“Isn’t it always good?” he smirks and raises an eyebrow as she walks over to him.

“Yep,” she matches his smirk and keeps walking, out in the direction of the console room, “Nothing wrong with keeping you on your toes though.”

“Oh, you certainly do that, Donna Noble,” he murmurs with a smile as he watches her disappear down the hallway.

Fic: The End (1/1)

2009-07-01T18:22:31Z

Title: The End (1/1)
Author: shining_moment
Characters/Pairing: Ten, Donna
Rating: G
Word Count: 100
Summary: Written for the Weekly Drabble Challenge #13 at doctor_donna, prompt word 'White'. Another angsty little JE thing, I seem to have lost my happy...
Disclaimer: The Beeb still has dibs on these characters. For now...

Your breath catches, you beg him not to do it even though you know it’s in vain. You were meant to be with him forever, saving people, seeing new worlds, not going back to the life you had before, a life you never knew you hated until you found one you loved.

You worry about who’ll stop him, who’ll keep him safe from his own recklessness. As his hands softly stroke your head, there’s a blinding flash of white and you fall against his chest. You know you won’t be able to miss him yet somehow you know you will.