Heart's Journey

Happy birthday, bas_math_girl!

nipponophile05 — Sun, 04 Sep 2022 15:07:39 GMT

Hope you have a good one!

Happy birthday to bas_math_girl!

nipponophile05 — Sun, 05 Sep 2021 14:29:07 GMT

Hope you have a good one.

Happy birthday tkel_paris!!

nipponophile05 — Wed, 12 Jun 2013 08:17:18 GMT

Happy birthday tkel_paris
Hope you have a great day!

Happy birthday to sykira!

nipponophile05 — Fri, 07 Sep 2012 07:09:46 GMT

To the gifted writer and more importantly caring friend sykira, a very,very happy birthday. May God watch over and bless you and yours in the year to come and beyond.

Happy birthday bas_math_girl!

nipponophile05 — Tue, 04 Sep 2012 07:45:02 GMT

Just a very quick post to wish the very lovely and very talented bas_math_girl a very very happy birthday and year filled with all the good stuff and none of the bad. So I guess that means lots of Doctor-Donna at the very least!

Bless you heaps, BMG!!!!

Happy Birthday to tkel_paris!

nipponophile05 — Fri, 15 Jun 2012 05:19:20 GMT

Sorry it's a few days late, but hope you had a very happy birthday, tkel_paris! All the best for a fabulous year!

NewFic: And I'll tell you when, the second time

nipponophile05 — Mon, 28 May 2012 16:13:51 GMT

Oh boy, it has been months since I have managed to do any creative writing at all, much less post anything, which is very irresponsible of me, seeing as I have a number of unfinished series on the go. My apologies to anyone I have annoyed with this tardiness in updating; I do intend to finish all the series I have started but it is going to take a while I suspect. I hope some of you are prepared to hang in there.

Anyway, I begin the from-time-to-time update-a-thon with the next installment in the Tell me When series, where the Doctor and Donna reveal to each other the first time(s) they wanted to kiss each other.

Characters/pairing: Tenth Doctor and Donna
Genre: Romance
Rating: G
Disclaimer: If I owned them, they woulda done it and we woulda seen it
Summary: The Doctor and Donna recall the moments they first wanted to kiss each other.
Author's note: This little piece, written at the suggestion of tkel_paris, explores the second of the ‘potential first kiss’ scenarios revealed by the Doctor to Donna in Tell me when.

What if you Tell me When - the second time: Partners in Crime

And they were off again, running. Running, running, running. There was an awful lot of running in his life, he realised. Good thing he liked running. Though he suspected by the grim expression on Donna’s face as he ventured a quick glance behind, and the fact he already had a good few metres on her, that she didn’t quite share his enthusiasm.

They had gone down the darkened corridor a few metres when he saw it and screamed to a halt, whipping out the sonic and buzzing the door open.

“Well, that’s one solution. Hide in a cupboard. I like it” he heard her quip, with a faintly detectable air of disappointment in her voice.

What’s that all about then?

He was inside the tiny room in flash, tossing out the contents without even a backward glance, frantic to find what he was looking for.

And there it was, at the back of the room. He strode over and whipped open the door. The inducer. Instrument of dastardly purpose, the potential destruction of millions of human lives.

He couldn’t let it happen. Miss Foster had to be stopped. He felt the panic rising even as his brain raced, calculating at light speed how he could hack the inducer, override the program, save humanity. Donna’s uncharacteristic silence alerted him to the fact he had slipped into techno-babble, so he decided to provide some more straightforward commentary to break the tension.

“She’s wired up the whole building. We need a bit of privacy.” He improvised with a pair of spark plugs to put the guards out of commission.

At Donna’s appalled look, he scrambled to explain: “Just enough to stop them.” Why do I feel the need to justify myself to her? Like I need her approval?

Or don’t want to disappoint her. Want her to like me.

Shrugging himself out of that strange, unbidden thought and back to the matter at hand, his alarm amplifying as the computer voice announced the inducer had gone online.

And it was then that she chose to speak.

“You look older”.

Millions of lives on the line, not a second to waste and she suddenly wants to talk about my personal life?

“Thanks.”

“Still on your own?”

“Yup.” A micro-pause. “Well, no, I had this friend, Martha she was called. Martha Jones. She was brilliant…and I destroyed half her life. But she’s fine. She’s good. She’s gone.” Why am I even telling her all this?

“What about Rose?”

No. NO. So don’t want to talk about THAT right now. “Still lost.” He swallowed and swiftly changed the subject. “I thought you were going to travel the world.”

It worked. Suitably side-tracked, she proceeded to tell him about what she had done during their time apart. He was only half listening though, the majority of his attention still desperately focussed on trying to figure out a way to prevent an impending mass liquification disaster.

“….I must have been mad turning down that offer.”

“What offer?”

“To come with you.”

“You’d come with me?”

He realised he should have phrased that last question better when she immediately responded: “Oh yes, please!” a little too enthusiastically for his liking.

“Right.”

The computer voice intruded to remind him again of the imminent danger to a large swathe of London’s population.

She spoke once more. Fortunately, more on topic. “What’s it doing now?”

“She’s started the program.”

He continued to talk as if somehow the sound of his own voice could calm him, and abate the growing fear that he wouldn’t be able to save them all.

“So far they’re just losing weight, but the Matron has gone up to emergency pathogenesis”

He heard his own fear echoed in Donna’s voice. “That’s when they convert….”

“Skeletons, organs, everything. A million people are gonna die! Gotta cancel the signal!”

He whipped the golden capsule out of his pocket and held it up to Donna for a look, continuing his commentary as if it were some bizarre mix of science lecture and reality TV show. Except that the reality if he failed this time was too awful to contemplate.

“This contains the primary signal. If I can switch it off the fat goes back to being just fat.” He hooked the capsule up to the machine, praying that it would work. And felt his hearts drop through the floor as the computer tonelessly announced that Miss Foster had increased the inducer’s strength.

“No no no no no, she’s doubled it, I need…Haven’t got time” It’s too far, I can’t override it! They’re all gonna die!” He couldn’t hold back the desperate despair in his voice as his words frantically tripped, tumbled and crashed into each other.

“Is there anything I can do?” he heard Donna say in the midst of his panic.

“Sorry Donna, this is way beyond you! Gotta double the base pulse, I can’t…”

She spoke again, more firmly, as if insulted at his dismissiveness. “Doctor, tell me what do you need?”

Hardly the time to argue the point, Donna! He thought in exasperation. Like a dog with a bone. Still, there’s something to be said for tenacity. Even if there’s nothing she can do. Might as well humour her.

Eyes remaining fixed on the inducer, the switches, the lights, as if he hoped he could will them to tell him a way through all of it he told her, finally: “I need a second capsule to boost the override, but I’ve only go the one. I can’t save them!”

And that was when he saw it. Out of the corner of his eye, a brief flash of something small and metallic. He turned to see Donna beaming as she held up another gold capsule, a tiny, shiny saviour.

Providence! Coincidence!

Even as he thought it, he knew it was much more than that, though. Deeper, more powerful, more significant.

Destiny.

Back together, partners in crime, to save the world.

Save each other.

He looked at her then for what was only a second, but seemed like an eternity, , blown away by the sheer fortuity and unlikeliness of it all. Again, she had stuck with him, through the danger, the flurry, the sheer weirdness, and had hardly batted an eyelid. She had been brave and stubborn and persistent in finding a way to help him do what needed to be done. And she had come through, with exactly what he had been missing, what he had been looking for, at precisely the right time.

He realised at that moment he was not just referring to the gold capsule, either.

The sparkle in her eyes that he saw now, that came from knowing she had been useful, needed, that he had needed her and that together they had done something wonderful, saved so many…that glow, that light, was just so, so breathtakingly beautiful. It made the abundant life in her burn even more brightly than it had the first time they’d met, when he’d already fallen just a little bit in love with her.

He realised with a start (and not a little guilt) that he’d spent practically the whole time with Martha not just trying to forget Rose, but trying to forget Donna and that spark, that zest for life, her inherent brilliance that she didn’t even know she had.

He thought he’d managed to do it, but with that one little triumphant flourish of a gift-with-purchase gold necklace, she’d undone him and he was right back where he’d found himself at the creation of the earth, standing at the doorway of the TARDIS with her, so close, so close…..

He wanted to kiss her then. Again. He’d missed his chance back then, he’d waited all this time for another chance, and here it was.

Here it was and there was just no time.

Why does this always happen? Why is my timing always so off?

So once again he hid his desire deep, deep down, and looked at her with incredulity, shock, and finally delighted relief. Then they both burst out laughing and he took the capsule from her, plugged it in to the transducer and watched its green lights die. Along with their moment.

But not his fervent hope that they would have another one.

And soon.

nipponophile05 — Mon, 23 Apr 2012 11:02:40 GMT

Happy birthday, sczep84 ! May you have a wonderful, happy year!

New fic: Sanctuary

nipponophile05 — Sat, 10 Mar 2012 08:49:00 GMT

When I wrote "Soulmate" a little while ago, it was conceived as a stand-alone, in response to a prompt I had read somewhere about the importance of treasuring the love who is also your best friend. But when I had finished, I realised that there was a complement to that story. Here it is.

Characters/pairing: Tenth Doctor and Donna
Genre: Romance
Rating: G
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, but they are each others in my dreams
Summary: The Doctor has found what he never knew he was looking for.
Author's note: Companion piece to Soulmate.

Sanctuary

Though he was the greatest explorer in all of time, having travelled farther, deeper, more perilously than any other, he could never be sure how much was still out there that he didn’t know about, hadn’t seen and so couldn’t exclude from the realms of possible existence.

He was thus unable to say one way or another if there really was a heaven out there somewhere, a place where there was no suffering, no fear, no war, no death, only peace and wholeness and light.

A huge part of him wished that there was indeed such an incredible, unfathomably amazing place like that he had heard so many humans, companion or not, talk about from time to time, with wondrous expression and glowing face tilting up reflexively, unconsciously to the sky.

But if there is a heaven, he thought to himself as he hovered in the stillness between consciousness and slumber, then I desperately want it to be like this.

Such deep sentiment seemed, on the surface incongruous with the rather pedestrian, everyday situation he currently found himself, which was simply lying on the couch, his head resting on Donna’s lap, as the two of them watched a movie.

Or rather they had been watching a movie. The visual entertainment had actually finished some time ago. But the last thing he wanted to do was to shift from his very comfortable position, so he closed his eyes as if sleeping and let his other senses take over and revel in his surroundings instead – ears delighting in the sound of Donna’s heartbeat, strong and steady in time with her calm, gentle breaths in and out, her incredible scent, warm freshly-bathed body layered with the jasmine fragrance of the cream she always used…along with something else, ever-so-faint but distinctly detectable, intoxicating to his highly sensitive sense of smell. And the feel of her skin, soft and smooth, against his own…all he could think was that heaven would definitely be like this if he was in charge.

As for the remaining sense, he was practically dying to dart his tongue out and give that inviting creamy skin on her inner thigh a little lick, but reckoned that it may well startle her right out of being his personal pillow and space heater, not to mention lose him the extraordinarily soothing effect of her delicate fingers smoothing over his hair, his face, his arms. No taste, no matter how enticing, he decided, would be worth that.

If he were to be really truthful, he looked forward to this part of the day more than any other precisely because they got to be like this, together and peaceful, in a space where words were unnecessary, unable to express as eloquently what their touches, their embraces, their just being with each other did.

He pondered once again how someone so seemingly ordinary could at the same time be so extraordinary. Every day she gave him cause to marvel, whether it was her bravery, her insight, her determination, or her honesty.

Most of all, though, it was her compassion and love, more than he had ever seen in a companion before, that caused to catch his breath and shake his head in almost starry-eyed wonderment that such brilliance existed and, what was more, chose to spend its existence with him.

It both heartened chastened him, making him want to be better.

It had also awakened in him a deep desire to be the focus of her love and his hearts did a little soar inside him then because he was growing increasingly aware that, indeed, he was becoming that.

For a nearly millennium-old being, he had been shown so little real, unconditional love, but it wasn’t until Donna that he actually realized how little, and that this was he’d been missing almost his entire life.

Now that he had such free, generous, daily access to it – albeit often delivered via Donna’s characteristically veiled, backhanded compliments - he never wanted to be without it again. He never wanted to be without her ever again.

The kind of life he led, that he had been thrust into by cruel and tragic circumstance so long ago, saw him constantly running, sometimes hiding, often escaping with his own life and that of this companions barely intact. It was a life relentless in its impossible, ghastly choices and its tenuous, more often completely absent, hold on safety, a luxury he never had, and never really could be, afforded.

Into all of that Donna had chosen to come, feet first, guns blazing, never holding back, willingly accepting-nay embracing-what it was to travel with him, to be him, experiencing all the pain and heartache that entailed. Through it all, she was steadfast at his side, had his back, and was unfailing upfront in courage. He realised anew that she was the first companion he could truly say was his equal.

While the reality of who he was meant that, regardless of Donna’s brilliant presence, he would never know comforting predictability, stability or regularity, what he could say with certainty was that in her he had found something perhaps even more important than all of these things.

A sanctuary.

A place where he knew he would always have rest and peace and complete understanding. Forgiveness. A place where he could finally stop running, even from himself.

This was true bliss. Ecstasy.

Heaven.

As he turned in her lap, he reached up his hand, knowing that it would find hers. When he felt her catch his grip and gave it a squeeze, he didn’t open his eyes.

Instead, he let the reassurance and sheer happiness he felt in her loving gesture wash over him, making his eyelashes flutter momentarily and his mouth turn up in gentle smile whose warmth infused his entire body.

As long as she was with him, and he with her, his hearts would be safe, she would prevent anyone from hurting him. She, in fact, was the only one who held such and incredible power as that over him, and he felt perfectly at ease with it, for he knew that she would never abuse that power.

Because she loved him, truly and deeply and forever. She’d promised him. And in all the time he’d known Donna Noble, he’d never seen her break a promise.

Just because she hadn’t said the actual words yet, didn’t make the promise any less real or powerful or eternal. The words would come at the right time, from both of them.

They would come from their safe place together, created by the sharing of minds, hearts and souls.

He could sense that the wait was almost over.

New Fic: Something in the Water (chapter 2)

nipponophile05 — Thu, 08 Mar 2012 05:44:25 GMT

Characters: Tenth Doctor and Donna
Genre: UST
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: That the characters aren't mine should be obvious given that this totally canon-compatible episode did not, sadly, appear in the series.
Summary: The Doctor has just turned down an extremely hormone-affected and totally up for it Donna. Did he do the right thing?
Author's note: Chapter 2 has been written in response to both literary compulsion and popular demand (okay, cake-shaped bribery) and constitutes the continuation of a piece written for the 'pollen fic' challenge issued late last year. This time, it's the Doctor's POV.

Chapter 1 here

Something in the water – Chapter 2

He leant on the wall next to the door just closed behind him, hearts pounding, head tilted back, eyes closed. His hands gripped the inside of his ship as if to stop himself from crumbling to the floor. The TARDIS, feeling her Master’s turmoil, tried her best to calm him, blowing a cooling breeze on his rapidly overheating body that wanted nothing more than to collapse into a miserable heap.

It had taking every ounce of his strength to say no to Donna just then, to turn and walk away and leave her, when all he really wanted to do was give in to her hormones – and, if he were honest, his – and take things to their natural conclusion.

Damn his principles and integrity and all those other pesky do-the-right-thing feelings.

Why do I think I have to win the bet fair and square anyway? A win is a win! Who cares how I got there? The fact was I was there! Right there. I had her in the palm of my hand…or was that other way around?....He shook his head at the graphic and tantalising but right now rather unhelpful mental image, She wanted me and I was THAT far from…

He sighed, lowered his head and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He had wanted her, too. He had wanted her so much it physically hurt. And the things he had wanted to do to her, with her, were at the very least somewhat indecent. He suspected in some galaxies they were even illegal.

And of course it had been at that precise moment that he had suddenly decided to hop up on his moral high horse and gallop right out of there. Leaving his best friend, his GORGEOUS and extremely aroused best friend, all alone and probably mad as hell at him. For which he couldn’t really fault her. After all, that would have been how he’d have felt in her position.

Except that he wouldn’t have, because, thanks to his superior Time Lord physiology, he wasn’t affected in the slightest by skin-absorbed hormones. Not that he’d even dangled so much as fingertip in the water, mind. Not sure why. Must have been some subconscious Gallifreyan spidey-sense type of thing.

In any case, the upshot of yet another pleasure-trip-gone-wrong was an intensely sexually frustrated companion, a disappointed and toey Time Lord and the exceedingly gloomy prospect of an entire week without even seeing or talking to his Earthgirl, much less even getting remotely close to shagging her.

A twinge in his nether regions at that latter thought had him deciding that now was a very good time for a cold shower, and with grim determination he headed back to his room. Which, he noted with a slightly annoyed upwards glare, was still right next to Donna’s. Not helping. He hoped the TARDIS had picked up on his ticked-off state and would make the necessary adjustments before he got out of the shower.

No such luck. On either count, actually. In spite of a good 30 minutes of blasting artic-temperature water he was still stubbornly standing to attention. And a quick peek out his bedroom door revealed it to be still sitting uncomfortably adjacent to that of his probably close-to-murderously-enraged-by-now best friend’s.

He flung his still slightly damp and goose-fleshed body onto the bed, the bounce of the mattress quickly dampening under his heavy despondency.

He shouldn’t have forgotten to tell her. He shouldn’t have gotten so distracted, gazing at her out in the boat. He shouldn’t have kissed her like that in her bedroom just then. He definitely shouldn’t have let her pull him down on top of her.

But how could I have not?

Now, of course, it was all too late, nothing but spilt milk, and he’d left Donna to clean up the mess.

But he just couldn’t go back in there and take advantage of her, could he?

Could he?

That would just be all kinds of …. wrong.

But it would feel so RIGHT.

It occurred to him just then that his thought processes, usually so ordered and logical, were starting to unravel, tying him up in knots.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her. About their kiss. About her taste. How she smelled. How she felt. How she felt under him. How she’d feel around him. Surrounding him.

He suddenly felt hot and a rush of blood, and he rolled over on the bed with a deep groan and then a sudden, sharp yelp as he rolled on it.

Obviously, another exceedingly cold shower was required. Immediately.

What was wrong with him? He’d never had this much trouble ramping down his emotional and biological reactions. Not even in response to Donna.

Not that she isn’t the sexiest, most beautiful woman in the entire cosmos and I would do just about anything to be back in her bed and her arms and her right now, and…….

STOP IT!!!!!

He rolled over onto his back again, slightly spread eagled, and rubbed his hands over his face.

Yes, he found Donna attractive and yes he did love her, deeply. But he had never felt so out of control like this, and his grip on self-restraint was becoming more tenuous by the second. That was not normal. Something else was going on here.

He needed to find out what, fast.

Motivated by the prospect of identifying a rational, scientific explanation for his….well, there were no other words for it, really…extreme horniness, he sprang to his feet and, clad in nothing but the bath towel wrapped firmly (he hoped) around his waist, he dashed out of his bedroom and down to the medical bay, not even daring to turn his head in the direction of her bedroom as he passed.

I’m going to get to the bottom of this. Because even if Donna manages to survive the next week, I know I can’t.

Some minutes later, his glum mood had turned even gloomier, shoulders slumped in a posture of defeat as he regarded the information on the screen in front of him, that seemed to mock his supposed intelligence even as it cheerily informed him that Time Lords were most certainly not immune to the hormonal charged waters of Kataa Flo Ko. Quite the contrary actually, they were even more susceptible to its powers than most other species, and it didn’t even require direct contact with the waters themselves. All it took was the exchange of bodily fluids with someone who had touched the water.

Exchange of bodily fluids like, for example, kissing. Someone who had touched the water like, for example, Donna.

And his present incarnation, not one to do anything by halves, had not just kissed her.

Oh no, he had tried to snog her senseless. Taste her tonsils with his tongue.

Enough bodily fluid exchange there to get a bull elephant excited, never mind one too-skinny-for-words Time Lord.

This was bad. This was very bad.

He could sense that the TARDIS knew it too. Her low, steady hum he knew was supposed to sound menacing, but he detected the nervousness underneath, the orange lights meant to emphasise her resoluteness undermined by an intermittent wavering she couldn’t conceal.

Almost feel sorry for her, he thought as the flickering lights reflected on his rapidly darkening countenance, she’s really got her work cut out for her.

For his mournful despair at whether he would be able to hold himself back was fading rapidly, replaced by a growing sense that he didn’t really want to fight this, damn the consequences. Even if they included destroying his relationship with his red-haired companion.

He could feel the hormones coursing more and more powerfully through his veins, completing his transformation from morbid resignation to twisted triumphalism. The TARDIS would fail. Oh, she could try stopping him, but it wouldn’t work.

Because he knew Donna wouldn’t.

He looked up then, with a wicked, lustful gleam, prompting the TARDIS to stutter out a series of more frantic whistles and beeps, almost as if to say: Don’t do this.

Ignoring her, he got to his feet, stance menacing, and turned his eyes towards Donna’s bedroom door.

Game on.

Happy belated Valentine's Day

nipponophile05 — Sat, 18 Feb 2012 13:58:43 GMT

I know this is late, but for some reason I can't really seem to put a finger on, I just don't seem to have the time to post and/or write much at the moment.

But, given the name of this LJ journal, I thought I should post something to commemorate this day, and the following fic has been sitting on my Macbook for a little while in a just-about-finished state. So I decided to actually finish it, and post it, as a bit of a love letter (although, not the next installment in that series yet, sorry bas_math_girl and tkel_paris) to my favourite Doctor Who time travellers.

Hope you enjoy.

Soulmate

Throughout life you will meet one person who is unlike any other.

You could talk to this person for hours and never get bored, you could tell them things and they won’t judge you.

This person is your soulmate…

Your best friend….

Do NOT ever let them go.

Donna looked down, a faint smile gracing her lips as she regarded the Doctor, his head in her lap, slumbering peacefully. The movie they had been watching had long since ended, but she was reluctant to disturb him; he didn’t really get that much sleep, because he didn’t need it, he claimed, and on a physiological level maybe he was right.

But haunted as he still was sometimes by the nightmares of long-ago as well as the not-so-distant past, sleep was a way to escape, and so she let him journey on down the path of temporary respite, her finger lightly smoothing his sideburn as his gentle breathing periodically tickled the baby-fine hair on her bare thigh.

There was such a comforting familiarity in where she was right at that moment, for it was a position they so typically found themselves in, after another day in their anything-but-typical life.

Which planet they would visit, whether they travelled forward or backward in time, who they met, what disaster they averted, which right they wronged, who they saved….the tangents, the variables, the possibilities were too dizzying when she tried to consider it in much depth, and it was sometimes quite disconcerting to think that whenever she got up in the morning, she couldn’t be sure if the day was going to end with her getting sand in her bathers and a bad case of sunburn or barely escaping with her life.

She did know, though, that once they were back in the TARDIS, that there would always be some kind of this, the quiet, completely content togetherness that only happens between two people who are each others’ very best friend, who are so comfortable and secure in themselves and the nature of their relationship that there is room for the biggest, most all-encompassing of love. Accepting, challenging, encouraging, comforting love.

Love that healed.

Love that saved.

She didn’t pretend to completely understand him – how could she? It wasn’t even possible for her to fully understand another human being, let alone a near-millennium-old alien, but she understood him enough to know the truly important things about him – his love, his loyalty, his passion. That she was the focus of so much of it now as his companion – in every sense of the word – well, that was just about too much for her to comprehend as well. But she didn’t need to know, or understand, everything about him to know that he was her soulmate, the person who got her more than anyone else ever had, or would.

Oh the irony that that person is the most different to me that someone could possibly be. That a man from a complete alien world, which has long since gone, is whom I feel most at home with.

When it came to knowing in the Biblical sense, Donna was no babe in the woods. There had been flashes of frenzied, heated lust that at the time she had thought was passion, and she remembered thinking that maybe this was part of what she needed, that the rest, the foundation on which she could hang all that sexual energy on and build something lasting, would come in time. But of course she had been mistaken and it never did; to the contrary, it only fed her lack of confidence and the low self-esteem that had festered (and been fostered) since she was a child.

Meeting the Doctor had changed everything, turned her world, her thinking upside down, for here was someone who made no demands, expected no ‘favours’, who for God only knows what reason, had decided that he wanted to share the wonders of the universes with her. Not only that, he had fixed upon the notion right from the very start that she was magnificent. And brilliant. It had taken so long for her to believe him. But when she had dared to start, oh, she had never imagined life could be like this.

They’d started off as mates purely for reasons of emotional self-preservation; he’d told her as much, and she pretty much knew it was the same for her, though she didn’t admit it at the time.

At what point she’d changed her mind, from thinking of ‘mating’ with him as something slightly horrifying to having it stir the deepest of longings within her, she couldn’t really say. It was more like a slow, steady process with barely-discernable steps yet whose outcome was all but inevitable. As close as you could get to what some would call destiny.

Something she never used to believe in.

She smiled ruefully.

I do now.

Intimacy with him was nothing short of a revelation. A complete re-ordering, restoring, revitalising of her thinking. As her mind drifted back to the sparkling turquoise river and gently waving, feather-soft tangerine grasses of the planet where they had just spent the entire day very pleasurably, without – miracle of miracles - any untoward incidents whatsoever, it occurred to her that making love, when it was with your best friend, was rather like drifting lazily down a wide, meandering river – gentle, unhurried, languid, and beautifully sensuous. As opposed to the emotional bruising and bad taste (metaphorical or otherwise) left in her mouth by previous lovers that was more akin to the rough and tumble of being dumped mercilessly by the surf.

That wasn’t even the real beauty of intimacy with her closest friend, though. The truly exquisite, precious thing was knowing that even when she got old, and her looks faded, and whether he regenerated into a completely new face or not, through all of that, their friendship, stronger than ever, would remain the bedrock of their union, and that the intimacy of truly being in synchrony with him would be a more than adequate replacement for decline in physicality.

He murmured softly in his sleep then, snuffling a little as he turned to lie on his back, a hand reaching up instinctively for hers. As she grasped it and squeezed gently, he did not wake but sighed happily, a soft smile crinkling the corners of his closed eyes, his long lashes fluttering delicately.

She swore to herself that she had never seen anything so beautiful.

The joys of incorrect spelling

nipponophile05 — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 10:28:15 GMT

So I just posted "Something in the water" over at fanfiction net and spell-checked but didn't proof read, leading to the following, amusing mental image-inducing gems:

"He paused, throwing Donna a guilty gland before casting his eyes downward again..."

"A WEEK?" Donna roared, causing the Doctor to skip back further on the bead, almost careening off the side.

I crack me up sometimes.

Absence and all that

nipponophile05 — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 14:30:48 GMT

Makes the heart grow fonder, they say. I just reckon it makes you frustrated and toey. Like Donna is in the following fic, the first one I've been able to post in months. Gotta say, feels good. Hope you enjoy.

Title: Something in the water
Characters/pairing: Tenth Doctor and Donna
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: The fact that this little interlude never made into Season 4 proves that I do not own the Doctor nor Donna in any way, shape or form.
Summary: Donna is not feeling like herself. Or is she finally feeling that way?
Author's note: Written for the sex pollen challenge laid down so enticingly by sykira.

Something in the water

Donna had been feeling confident. Nah, that didn’t quite capture it. What felt more confident than confident? Because that was how she had felt then.

Ah, that’s the word. Smug.

She had been feeling smug.

Because she had thought that she had finally put herself in a situation where she was going to emerge the winner, victorious in a battle of wits with an alien whose enormous brain overshadowed hers in every way and yet who inexplicably had allowed himself to be manipulated into a bet Donna had proposed believing without a shadow of a doubt she would win.

For she had bet the Time Lord that he wouldn’t be able to persuade her to ‘mate’ with him.

Of course, she trusted him not to take undue advantage of his Time-Lordy alien-ness and everything that entailed, but to keep things fair – well, as fair as things could be between a Time Lord and a human - she felt she had had to establish some ground rules as well. No perception filters. No hypnotism or their intergalactic equivalents. And none of that wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey….’stuff’.

With those rules spelt out, she had though she had it in the bag,. Because she knew her own mind. Her own heart.

At least she thought she had. Thus, the smugness.

Right now, however, all she felt was hot, bothered and more than a little bewildered, the doubts multiplying like transponding Adipose as she found herself for probably the tenth time that hour heading into the bathroom to give herself another blast of cold water. While she bit her tongue. And dug her fingernails into her palms, her arms, the backs of her legs. Hard.

Anything to stop the yearning, the ache. For she was literally aching for him.

If she hadn’t known the Doctor like she did, she might have suspected foul play, the Doctor doing something sneaky or underhand just to be able to win and not suffer the immeasurable blow to his mighty Gallifreyan ego in having to admit Donna was right.

But as she lay back on the bed, her feet pawing and pushing against the sheets like some kind of crazed cat in heat, she had to admit to herself that the Doctor wasn’t like that. He wouldn’t do something like that. Especially not just to win a bet.

So why was she feeling like this? Like she would ignite if he so much as looked in her direction? Like she had to have his lips on every part of her at the same time otherwise she might go insane with desire? Like she wanted to crawl inside his skin even as she yearned for him inside her, filling her to overflowing?

Donna had never, ever experienced need this intense and initially it had scared her so much that she had had to beg off the Doctor’s company in a sudden rush with some pathetic excuse about festival food that appeared to have gone down the wrong way and lock herself in her room where she could climb the walls in private.

Although, in all seriousness, she didn’t know how successful that strategy was going to be. She couldn’t explain what had come over her or, more importantly, how to stop it. At the moment, it seemed to only grow stronger rather than dissipate, and if things didn’t change pretty soon, she knew she wouldn’t be able to restrain herself any longer. She’d bust down her door, and his, and any others the TARDIS might erect in between, to get to her Doctor, strip them both naked, and have her wicked way with him.

She rolled over onto her stomach, her groans muffled by the pillow she held in a death grip as she ground herself against the mattress.

What is WRONG with me?

Only an hour before everything had been the picture of normality as he had whisked her off to all the places he had promised to take her when he had thought she was leaving him for good – As if! I would never leave him, couldn’t if I tried, especially NOW - and, with his cool hand wrapped around hers, she had marvelled at the fifteenth Broken Moon of the Medusa Cascade, thrilled at the Lightning Skies of Cotter Palluni’s World and gazed enraptured at the Diamond Coral Reefs of Kataa Flo Ko.

It was his way of trying to impress her, dare she say it, woo her, and he had done, not that she’d ever admit to it - perhaps even under pain of death - a rather brilliant job of it.

It had been extraordinarily difficult to maintain her resolve after such a showing, especially when the Doctor had turned to her as they bobbed gently in a boat atop the glistening reefs, and flashed her one of those smiles, more dazzling and brilliant than even the Kataa Flo Ko diamonds, the one that simultaneously said See, I told you it would be spectacular, and Go on, admit it, you’re impressed and I know you can’t resist me when I smile like this.

Wait, his smile had never said that to her before.

Nevertheless, she had held firm, gently dismissive of his tempting invitation to succumb to the charms of the intergalactic enticements he had dangled in front of her, and managed to return to the TARDIS very much in control of her emotions and her actions.

Or so she had thought.

They had barely sat down at the kitchen table for a cup of tea and a biscuit when she felt something stirring in the very depths of her, stirrings she somehow knew were being caused by him.

Not even his presence but just the mere thought of him, for when she squeezed her eyes shut so as to block out the suddenly maddeningly alluring sight of his rumpled suit and even more rumpled bed-hair not to mention the chocolate come-hither eyes, it did absolutely squat to ramp down her hormones that were progressing from their previously recumbent state through a brisk canter to an out-of-control gallop.

She had had to physically remove herself from his proximity before she found herself doing something that would have embarrassed them both and likely got her deposited back in Chiswick quicker than the Doctor could demolish a packet of jelly babies.

When will this torture end?

No doubt the Doctor would be curious, perhaps even worried by this stage, at her strange behaviour but the way she was feeling right now, she just couldn’t risk being in the same room with him. She had doubts that it was safe even to be in the same TARDIS as him.

Of course, the Doctor chose that precise moment to knock on her door.

“Donna? Are you alright? Did something upset you?”

She could hear the concern and…something else…in his voice.

“I’m fine, just a bit of a tummy bug” she managed to call out in a rather unconvincing tone.

“Donna, we didn’t eat anything while we were out, let me take you to the med bay, make sure nothing’s….”

“I’m fine!” she interrupted, really, please don’t fuss, I just need some rest…”

Too late, the door slid open and the Doctor entered the room, walked two steps towards her, stopped and just stared.

Only now did Donna look down at herself and realise the state she was in – damp hair curling loosely around her face and over her shoulders, half-moon indentations on the skin of her arms and legs, wet - and now completely transparent!- nightie clinging scandalously close to her every curve and revealing rather accurately the level of her current – ahem – agitation.

The Doctor said nothing for a beat, his mouth instead gaping slightly like a fish out of water before finally collecting his wits and rushing over to her in a mild panic, completely ignoring her wildly gesticulating hands urging him to get away.

He moved swiftly to sit beside her on the bed, one hand gently grasping her forearm, and the other feeling her forehead.

“Your temperature does seem a little bit elevated, do you have any other symptoms, cold chills, aching limbs, sore eyes…”

Donna could barely hear what he said instead her ears were filled with the sound of her own heartbeat that had escalated once again to a point where she thought the organ might spontaneously burst out of her chest. His indescribable, unmistakeably masculine scent assaulted her nostrils, his body was so close the hairs on her arms and legs were literally standing on end as if even they yearned for him, her breathing became more erratic.

Before he had the chance to say another word, her other hand shot out, grabbed him roughly by the back of the neck and pulled him to her, him barely being able to eke out a squeak of surprise before her lips crashed into his and her tongue, roughly insistent, pried his mouth open so that she could explore properly.

It was some seconds before he appeared to overcome his shock but to her astonishment, instead of pulling away, he sank into her embrace and she felt the tension in his body melt away as he gave himself fully to the kiss, his tongue dancing into life and meeting hers with equal ardour. She lay back on the bed again, pulling him on top of her and wrapping her long, wet legs around him, pleased to find that he seemed just as eager for her as she was for him.

“Oh Donna, I have waited so long for this” he murmured in her ear even as his tongue traced its curves in a slow, seductive arc.

“Doctor, I don’t know what you did” she gasped out, ”but it worked and you were right and can we just ….ooooohhhhhh”. He had moved his mouth to her neck, momentarily disrupting all coherent speech.

“I didn’t do anything, really, except take you to all those places,” he mumbled against her skin, “obviously, they had a much more persuasive effect on you than I ever could.”

“Something in the air, maybe, then. ‘Cause we didn’t eat the food or drink the water….”

She stopped talking and kissed him even more deeply and passionately not really caring anymore about the why, and instead focussing on how she could feel, taste and explore more of him.

At which point, the Doctor pulled away abruptly, sat up and smacked his forehead loudly in an overly ebullient gesture of revelation.

“Of course! Why didn’t I realise that? Donna, ever the brilliant one!”

Her head reeling not only from the mind-blowingness of his kisses but even more from the sudden deprivation of them, Donna sat up as well and fixed him with what she hoped was a steely, demanding glare but feared would come up more like slightly clueless semi-resolve given her current aroused state.

“What” she stammered “are you talking about?”

“The diamond coral reefs of Kataa Flo Ko, one of the top ten most beautiful sites in all the universe…”

“Yes, yes, you can dispense with the travel brochure speak” she said testily, her glare nevertheless softening as it was irresistibly drawn back to his lips.

He paused at her tone and rubbed the back of his neck nervously, a gesture he only ever did when he was about to say something he feared would arouse her ire.

“Well, you see, normally viewing the reefs is just that, looking at all the sparkly stuff, and marvelling at the loveliness…”

“Get to the point, Spaceman. Fast.”

“Right then, well, every so often, well, not so often really, in fact, quite rare actually, only once in a millennium which would explain why I’d forgotten about seeing as I wasn’t even around the last time it happened…”

“DOCTOR!!”

“Okay, well once in a millennium as a kind of diamond diamond diamond-ey jubilee, kind of like what the Queen is having this year but with a lot more diamonds, anyway…on this special anniversary, at this very significant stage of the coral’s life cycle, it releases a special hormone into the water kind of like a…

“Let me guess, love potion…” Donna interrupted rolling her eyes in gesture of why-does-this-not-surprise-me.

“Ah, yes….a love potion…” the Doctor sputtered on, only occasionally daring to look Donna fully in the eye, “..that is designed to ensure the complete and healthy renewal of the reef for another millennium.”

He pause, throwing Donna a guilty glance before casting his downwards again, somewhere around the region of his right knee. “But which also has a rather powerful aphrodisiac effect on whoever or whatever touches the water at the time.” He stopped and looked up at her sheepishly.

“A rather important fact you neglected to tell me” Donna snipped angrily as she recalled trailing her fingertips in the glittering waters, spellbound at the beauty and luxuriating in the Doctor’s rapt and undivided attention. Which had probably been the reason behind his forgetfulness.

“I would have told you, but it kind of got lost, what with all the trying to impress you and prove you wrong and win the bet. I’m so sorry Donna.” He looked down again, ashamed, and moved himself a little further away from her.

“Just tell me how long I’m going to feel like I have to shag you or I’ll die.”

“The effects wear off after about a week.”

“A WEEK????!!!” Donna roared, causing the Doctor to skip back further on the bead, almost careening off the side.

“If it helps, I’ll have the TARDIS move our rooms far apart temporarily so that there’s less chance of us running into each other,” he offered rather weakly.

“Don’t know if that’s gonna work. Angry as I am with you, and as much as it kills me to admit this, the way I feel right now, I think I would rip through this ship with my bare hands just to be able to get to you and kiss you again.”

She looked up briefly, imploringly, at the TARDIS. Sorry.

At the same time, she was both gratified and mortified to see the Doctor blush scarlet at her emphatic expression of determination, even as he was obviously, desperately trying to suppress a smirk.

Despite her earlier outburst, however, he was clearly feeling comfortable (and brave) enough to approach her again, inching his way back over the covers towards her.

“No need for that,” he said softly, his eyes holding hers with sincerity and smoulder in equal measure. “I’ll kiss you anytime you like.”

“Right now, that is an extremely enticing and dangerous offer.” Donna said, slowly leaning in towards him.

She heard his breath catch as she stopped, her lips a hair’s breadth from his, and turned her sultry-lashed gaze up to him.

“There is of course on other possibility,” she said, her voice low and sexy.

“And that is?” the Doctor had stopped breathing almost completely now.

“We could just let the hormones do their work.”

She saw his hearts skip a beat as his mind processed that suggestion.

“Then that would be them kissing me, not you,” he said, his words measured, deliberate and holding a faintly detectable heaviness. “When I finally win that bet, because you never put a time limit on it and I am not going to give up, you will be the one seeking the kissing. And the mating.” He gave her a cheeky wink, earning an Oi! and a slap, albeit a soft one.

“Because you want to. Because you love me as much as I love you.”

And before she could even react to THAT bombshell he was gone, leaving her to ponder his words and deal with her frustration as the hormones continued to rage and the taste of him lingered on her lips.

Writer's Block: Recipe for Success

nipponophile05 — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 13:23:48 GMT

Be passionate about whatever you do.

Writer's Block: People’s Choice

nipponophile05 — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 08:00:56 GMT

Daisuke Takahashi. And Catherine Tate. And David Tennant.

Writer's Block: Trading Places

nipponophile05 — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 07:55:20 GMT

Catherine Tate, so that I could be ginger, humorous, voloptuous and get to kiss David Tennant a lot.

Or else part of Daisuke Takahashi's entourage, so that I could hang out, encourage him and just immerse myself in the beauty that is his skating.

Writer's Block: A Bright Idea

nipponophile05 — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 07:42:31 GMT

The personal TARDIS. Because airline travel is tedious, tiring and just plain expensive.

Writer's Block: Thesaurus Day

nipponophile05 — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 07:40:50 GMT

Passion.

Writer's Block: Tearjerkers

nipponophile05 — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 04:38:38 GMT

Too many to categorise me as anything other than an out-and-out sook, but some of the biggest tear-jerkers for me (as judged by the number of times I actually cry during the movie or the sheer intensity of the crying episode(s) are:

Braveheart -at least seven significant cry moments
Last of the Mohicans -esp. the cliff scene with Uncas and Alice, and Chingakchook, for me the most gut-wrenching, sobbingly sad scene in all of moviedom
The Last Samurai -esp. for the fate of Katsumoto and his son
Life is Beautiful - makes me cry both with joy and sadness
Amadeus - a cruel and unfitting fate for such a genius
Gallipoli - the sheer brutality of war and the waste of young lives
Titanic
The Notebook
Okuribito (Departures)
The Joy Luck Club
A Walk to Remember
Schindler's List
Missisippi Burning

Plus the first 10 minutes of Up deserve a special mention.

And if you want to see a real tearjerker of a TV mini-series, the Australian-made *Dirtwater Dynasty* features the most hours of unrelenting tragedy I've witnessed on the small screen.

Writer's Block: Tearjerkers

nipponophile05 — Sun, 11 Dec 2011 15:05:54 GMT

"Last of the Mohicans" , last scene with Uncas and Alice, and I'm not talking just crying but gut wrenching sobbing. And "Braveheart".

Writer's Block: What’s on your mind?

nipponophile05 — Sat, 10 Dec 2011 15:50:57 GMT

All the half- written Donna-Doctor ficus I want to progress/finish but somehow can't at the mo because of current deficit in time/inspiration/talent.

Writer's Block: Starstruck

nipponophile05 — Fri, 09 Dec 2011 15:00:28 GMT

Quite a few actually.....Japanese men's figure skater (world champion and Olympic bronze medallist) Dausuke Takahashi (multiple times!), Yuna Kim, singer Guy Sebastian, Prince Albert of Monaco, Australian Prime Ministers John Howard and Kevin Rudd, the Crown Prince and Princess of Japan and the Japanese Emperor and Empress.

Making lemonade

nipponophile05 — Mon, 21 Nov 2011 04:03:43 GMT

Living by the motto espoused by the Doctor in one of my more recent fics, Adore, I couldn't help but be amused by a quote from the at times nausea-inducing The Idiot Lantern that I had somehow missed (the fact I missed it the first time could have something to with my pathological loathing of the R character and the trowel-like application of 'Ten hearts R4eva' nonsense that we are assaulted with in this episode, a direction that unfortunately continues onward with every-increasing ferocity toward the season finale)...

Ten: It's never too late, as a wise person once said. Kylie I think.

LOL!!

In case you're wondering why I'm watching S2 despite its complete lack of Donna, I am currently embarked on a mission to introduce my flatmate to the wonder that is 'New Who' and in particular the sheer joy of the David-Catherine S4, but in order for them to appreciate fully Donna's awesomness, I have to acquaint them with the necessary 'point of reference'.

New Fic: Adore you more

nipponophile05 — Sat, 19 Nov 2011 06:40:59 GMT

Characters/pairing: Tenth Doctor and Donna
Genre: Romance
Rating: For Mature Audiences
Disclaimer: I don't own them, so for me, their journey never ended.
Summary: The Doctor, Donna, love and a shower.
Author's note: Written for bas_math_girl to thank her for the squee-inducing care package she sent me in the mail last week. Sequel to Adore.

Adore you more

It was an invitation she just couldn’t refuse. That look in his eyes, just now? So dark and dangerous and full of lustful promise. It did her in every time.

She took his proffered hand and gave him the sultry eyelash-flirty look that she knew did certain things to certain parts of him. The little tremble in his fingers told she hadn’t lost her touch.

He led her wordlessly to their bedroom, his eyes never once leaving hers. By the time the stepped into the steaming shower, his eyes had already rendered her totally and utterly exposed, but there were still the practicalities involved in having the physical reality match the emotional one.

She felt his fingers glide over her form, so practiced and expert in their methods that she couldn’t even discern when it exactly it was that her clothes left her body.

Rather, her reality was simply him and those hands and that tongue and how exactly is that he can stimulate every single nerve ending in me at once? Not for the first time she thanked God, providence, the stars and everything else good for bringing this glorious, brilliant, remarkable man and his never ending, undeniably talented adoration into her life.

So consumed was she by his loving and incredibly efficient - not one movement wasted – ministrations that the only way she could tell she was being suitably attentive to him in return was by the sounds being elicited from him. Sounds that were like music to her ears.

He stopped, then, removing his lips from the spot on her neck that drove her wild, his hands stilling on her waist as he brought his face up to look at her, even as his lower body pressed insistently and urgently against hers. Feeling the hot water running down her back through the infintessimally small gap between her and the wall tiles, she returned his gaze, and the depth of pure, unadulterated love for her that she saw in his eyes stilled her breath and her heart for a moment.

His dark hair, usually so wild and frantic as if it were a visual representation of his inner thought process, now lay wet against his head, reflecting the change in his focus, now totally trained on her and what he no doubt hoped would transpire between them in mere moments.

Water droplets clung to his impossibly long lashes, making his deep, languid eyes seem at once mysterious and tragic as if the redemption he would find in their coming together would only be a temporary salve to all the sorrow that still haunted his ancient soul.

My beautiful Spaceman. Don’t be sad, I promised you eternity and I never break my promises. I’m going to be with you forever. We’ll heal each other.

Donna reached up to smooth wet tendrils of hair from his face, before raking her nails lightly along his scalp and then down his neck, feeling his goosebumps beneath her fingertips.

“Have I told you lately that I adore you more Mr Noble?” she whispered in his ear even as her tongue emerged to caress its curves.

“Oh Donna….” he breathed, a catch in his voice as he shuddered under her touch, eyes glistening with tears. “I love you so much”.

He buried his face in her neck as he buried himself in her, and they began to move together slowly and gently, almost reverently, vowing anew with their bodies what their hearts had already, unknowingly, promised long ago, when he had stood at a doorway, snow falling, and told her to be magnificent.

I am magnificent, Doctor, just like you. We’re magnificent together.

New Fic: Adore

nipponophile05 — Sat, 19 Nov 2011 05:26:48 GMT

Characters/pairing: Tenth Doctor and Donna
Genre: Romance
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Don't own them. Can't you tell from the way series 4 ended?
Summary: Ten, Donna, love and Murphy's law.
Author's note: Written for sczep84_in thanks for the lovely gift she sent me in the mail recently.

Adore

Lying on the picnic rug, the Doctor watched the clouds drift slowly and silently across the blue sky, their swirling vapours producing a procession of amusing, bizarre or simply indecipherable shapes.

He felt Donna’s hand in his, a small, soft centre of heat that somehow managed to infuse his entire body with warmth that calmed, protected and reassured. The feeling caused him to wonder anew at how even the littlest things about her, who she was, what she did, had such a huge effect on him.

He unclasped his hand to roll on his side to face her. Immediately missing the physical contact, his other hand reached out to delicately and lightly cup the side of her face. He felt the warmth again as her eyes momentarily closed and her lips parted slightly. She sighed into his touch with obvious pleasure.

When she opened her eyes again, he couldn’t help but smile as he regarded her, slightly windswept hair, intelligent eyes, the faint smattering of freckles that dusted her ivory skin.

“Have I told you lately that I adore you, Mrs Noble?” he said, the tone of his voice equal parts besotted and seductive.

She looked up momentarily, musing. “No…not that I can recall….nope” before fixing her gaze directly on him. ”..not in the last five minutes, anyway, Mr Noble.” The corners of her mouth turned up and her eyes twinkled with amusement.

“It’s hardly my fault, you know” he mock-pouted as he moved his face closer to hers, his hand sliding slowly down her face, neck and arm to finally rest on the ripe curve of her hip. “…that you’re just so ginger…” He ducked his head in to press his lips to hers softly and slowly, tasting their sweetness, “….and delicious.”

She pulled back to regard him for a moment. “You’re not so bad yourself” she said, leaning in to give him a quick kiss “I mean, you actually managed to find a planet where there are no monsters, deadly alien viruses, civil wars or impending apocalypses” she teased, only half-jokingly.

He looked a little hurt. “Sarcasm doesn’t become you, you know” he grumbled, and went to drop his head guiltily, but then felt her fingers grasp his chin gently and pull him up to meet her eyes.

“Stop whinging and kiss me” she commanded

Brightening, he paused before moving in again, capturing her lips in his, revelling in their beloved and familiar feel. He ran his tongue enticingly along her bottom lip and was rewarded by her mouth’s wordless invitation to explore more thoroughly. As his hand moved to run over her curves, giving her ample bottom a firm squeeze, he felt the exquisiteness of skin-on-skin contact as her own hand reached around to pull him closer, smoothing the planes of his back before sliding over his side to end up resting dangerously on his abdomen.

Not long after that, they were nothing but a mass of entwined limbs and mutual moaning, their hands moving frantically in an effort to divest each other of their clothing.

And then Donna abruptly pulled away. “What was that?” she said with slight alarm, regarding the water drop that had suddenly appeared on her bare arm.

“What was what?” the Doctor responded, just as he felt a large splot of wetness hit him squarely on the nose.

Donna looked up to see that the formerly blue, fluffy white-clouded sky had turned black and angry. She yelped with a start as another, larger raindrop fell, barely missing her rapidly snapped shut eyes.

“Oh, I just knew it was all too perfect” she complained. “C’mon, let’s get out of here” she said with a huff as she pulled her half-undone blouse around herself, grabbed his hand and dragged him up. He barely had time to clutch the blanket enclosing his discarded jacket with his other hand before they were bolting back to the TARDIS, the rain now pelting down.

By the time they managed to get back inside, slamming the door shut and leaning on the nearest strut to try to catch their breath, they were soaked through.

Finally, he turned to her and held her gaze for a long , intense moment, almost as if he was trying to undress her with his eyes. Slowly, a sly grin spread across his face. When life gives you lemons…..

“Now, Donna, how about we get you out of those wet clothes?”