#((hopefully it'll be here friday))

[paintpanic]

about the drawings that made fun of the tropes, will you do more designs or were they just a sketch? (i dont know english, sorry)

I think they were just for fun, but I might play with the idea more in the future. Anybody is free to do whatever with the concept!

[army-of-bee-assassins]

i got my clinic schedule!!!!! somehow i have two aphasia clients again, despite having already had aphasia clients last semester and having completed all my adult hours already. i guess they just needed someone to fit in there. i don't mind too much tbh! it's a different supervisor and he's really cool (tho extremely scatterbrained lmao). and aphasia is pretty interesting. what i'm really excited about tho is that i will also be doing literacy (dyslexia) diagnostics and early intervention/parent coaching! both with supervisors that i like. and the last one is a language client (presumably a young child) at the ass crack of dawn on thursdays lol. i am more reserved about this supervisor but i do hear that she's good to work with. she apparently just requires a lot of prep which i fucking suck at so that'll be a learning curve. anyway, altogether it's five clients and one diagnostic. i have three classes (one each mon-weds), and then i'll work afternoons tues/thurs and all day friday. it's gonna be busy but hopefully not too bad! i'm excited about it right now, at least

[aastarions]

i finally caved and dropped $$$ on an air purifier for my room my dust allergy is getting so out of hand not to be gross/tmi but

snot has been dripping from my nose for the past 20 minutes all because i dusted off my desk today 🙃

[provokedgoalie]

i might see the pens play against the stars in march *vibrates violently*

[a-b-riddle]

Part Five

Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)

You call Meredith when you get home.

You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.

How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.

"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."

"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"

"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."

"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.

"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."

"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."

"That works."

"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."

It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.

"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.

"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."

The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.

Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.

But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.

You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.

You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.

Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.

“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...

“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”

"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"

"You won't return any of our messages."

"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."

"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.

"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.

Dammit.

"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."

"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.

"Why not?" He countered.

“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”

He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.

You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.

God...

That felt good.

You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...

You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.

[annabelle--cane]

so imagine you're me. and you go to university. and on tuesday the twenty-fourth of september at around 11am you get an email saying that you have a package to pick up at your dorm area's mail desk (let's call this desk A). and you think "hmm, that's weird" because you did not order anything and currently only two people have your exact address and they also didn't send you anything. so your immediate thought is "maybe this is Stalker Dad" because Stalker Dad has a history of finding out the addresses of where you live and sending you things. and you think "hhhhhhh. hopefully it's at least something fun like a chocolate box or whatever."

so you go about the rest of your day and then go to the mail desk at around 8:30pm. and the guy at the desk says there are actually TWO packages. one is a vote by mail application, and that makes sense, it has clearly been redirected from one of your old campus addresses, he gives it to you, that's fine. the other was accidentally sent to the wrong desk (let's call this desk B) in a building that's half a mile away. the guy at the desk says you can either go get it now or wait the four days it'll take to get redirected back to desk A. you want to get this done now and you're also maybe a little bit obsessed with finding out what the damn package actually is. you go to desk B, you scan your ID card, the guy at the desk looks for your package, comes back, reviews something on his computer, and says they actually already sent it back to desk A, and you can either wait for an email alerting you that it's arrived or just check back in four days.

four days pass. it is now friday the twenty-seventh. you go back to desk A. you scan your ID card. the girl at the desk says "ah, sorry, it looks like your package got rerouted to desk B, you can go pick it up from there if you want." you say yes. I know it got rerouted to desk B. they told me a few days ago that they had already sent it. the girl at the desk says "hmm. it might need another day, I'd say to wait to get an email about it."

a calendar week passes. it is now friday the fourth of october. you have received no email about the mystery package. you go back to desk A, you scan your card, the girl at the desk says "ah, sorry, it's at desk B, it will take a few days to get rerouted." you inform her of the last two weeks' events and she says "oh I'm so sorry it should not be taking this long, some weird glitch must have happened." she tells you that the rerouted packages from the last week were all delivered that morning and yours was not among them, your package was logged at desk B as being medium sized so it can't have been some error where they counted the vote by mail application twice, and that it didn't scan right at desk B so they don't even know which mail carrying service delivered it, and knowing that would have at least given you a vague clue as to the contents. she tells you your best shot is to go check desk B again.

so you go about the rest of your day and then go to desk B at around 5:30pm. you scan your ID card, the girls at the desk say there was a package but they sent it on to desk A. you say "well here's the thing--" and tell all. they say "what the fuck." all four of them crowd around a single computer screen to figure out what the hell is going on. one of them goes into the mail room to physically look but comes back empty handed. "the thing is," they say, "is that if there were two packages then you should have gotten two emails, you're sure you only got one?" you're definitely sure, and there are definitely two packages logged on their side. they don't know how this could have happened. they say the last thing recorded is that after spending too long in the system without being picked up, it got sent to the main desk of your campus (let's call this desk C), and that usually means that it then got returned to sender from there.

you go back to your dorm room. you decide to make one last attempt. you call desk C, because it is a mile away and you cannot be bothered to physically go there unless you know you will return victorious. the guy on the phone has you hold while he searches up your name for a suspiciously long time, and then he says that yes, there were two packages, and they entered the system ten days ago, and one got sent on there and then returned to sender. he then says that a third package was registered at desk B earlier that day, but then adds that that was just the mystery package getting pinged again for some reason and nothing is actually there. you end the call.

your mystery delivery existed, at no point was it possible for you to pick it up, it never got scanned correctly, and it is now Gone Forever. no one on da planet earth knows what this thing was. you don't even know if it was actually from Stalker Dad or something much, much weirder. you immediately burst into flames and die.

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Boys Day Out.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

authors note - these new pictures are making me go feral, like his hair grew back so quick and ngl im absolutely loving it 🥰

word count - 2.8k

in which, manchester united are playing luton town fc in the premier league, and so what better thing to do then take your two football obsessed children to watch there favourite team hopefully win.

Friday 16th February, 2024.

Last Friday was a rare moment of tranquility in your household.

You sat nestled in your shared bed, Harry's arm draped around your waist, pulling you close. As you lost yourself in the pages of your book, you couldn't help but steal glances at him, admiring the way his eyes sparkled with every scroll on his phone.

The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm aura around the room, creating a peaceful atmosphere that enveloped you both. With each shared smile and whispered exchange, the bond between you grew stronger, weaving a tapestry of love and companionship that filled the space between you.

As the subtle silence enveloped the room, Harry gently broke it, his voice filled with excitement. "Y’know, m’love, I was thinking... How about taking the boys to the Manchester United match on Sunday? A mate has a few tickets spare. It would be a fantastic day out for them, and I reckon it'd do you good to have some time for yourself."

You paused, considering his suggestion. " H, I don't mind staying with the boys. Besides, it's a big game, and they might get restless."

Harry shook his head, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "Nonsense, they'll love it! And you deserve a break, you do so much for them already. Plus, it'll be a chance for me to bond with the boys, just the three of us."

You couldn't help but smile at his earnestness.

"I suppose it would be nice to have a bit of me-time," you admitted, though still hesitant about leaving the boys for the day.

Seeing your uncertainty, Harry took your hand in his, his gaze softening. "Trust me, m’love, it'll be a day they'll never forget. Besides, it'll give you a chance to relax and unwind, do whatever you fancy without worrying about the boys."

His words warmed your heart, and you found yourself nodding, a sense of relief washing over you.

"Okay, you've convinced me. Let's make it a boys' day out on Sunday," you agreed, a smile spreading across your face at the thought of a few hours of peace and quiet.

Sunday 18th February, 2024.

Harry navigated his Range Rover through the familiar streets, the excitement palpable in the air as they neared Kenilworth town where the football match awaited.

In the backseat, Cameron, his eight-year-old son, gazed out of the window with a mix of wonder and anticipation, his Manchester United kit proudly worn.

Cameron Harry Styles was conceived only five months into yours and Harry’s relationship, it definitely came as a shock seeing as he was only twenty-two, but he absolutely wouldn’t change it for the world.

"Dad, do you think Rashford will score today?" Cameron asked eagerly, his eyes alight with excitement.

Harry glanced at Cameron through the rearview mirror, a smile playing on his lips.

"M’reckon he's got a good chance, Cam. But y’know how football is, anything can happen," he replied, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

Meanwhile, in the other car seat Dexter Robin Styles, your youngest child who was conceived on your honeymoon.

Dexter, just turned two, slept soundly in his car seat, blissfully unaware of the excitement surrounding him. Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of his youngest son, his heart swelling with love.

"Look at him, out like a light already," he remarked to Cameron.

Cameron grinned back, his excitement bubbling over.

"We can wake him up when we get there, Daddy," he declared confidently, already planning the day ahead in his mind. "I can't wait to see the players up close!"

The journey continued for another half an hour, the excitement building with each passing mile. Cameron peppered Harry with questions about the match, his eagerness infectious as they drew closer to the stadium. Dexter stirred in his sleep occasionally, but Cameron kept a watchful eye on him, eager to share every moment of the adventure with his little brother.

Finally, they pulled up in the stadium's private car park, greeted by the bustling atmosphere of fellow fans and the distant sounds of cheers from inside. Harry turned off the engine, glancing back at his sons with a grin.

As Harry stepped out of the car, he made his way around to Dexter's car seat, his heart full of anticipation for the day ahead. Gently, he opened the door and leaned in to wake his youngest son.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," he murmured softly, giving Dexter a gentle shake. "It's time to wake up, buddy."

Dexter stirred, his eyelids fluttering as he slowly emerged from his deep slumber.

"Daddy?" he mumbled, his voice groggy from sleep. "Carry me, please?"

Harry couldn't help but smile at his son's request, knowing full well that Dexter was a total daddy's boy.

"Of course, little man," he replied, ready to scoop Dexter up into his arms. "You ready for some football?"

Dexter nodded, rubbing his eyes with tiny fists. "Yeah, football!" he exclaimed, his voice still laced with sleepiness.

Harry chuckled softly, planting a kiss on Dexter's forehead.

"That's right, buddy. But first, we need to get you out of this car seat," he said, gently manoeuvring Dexter's sleepy limbs.

Meanwhile, Cameron had already made his way out of the car and stood next to his father, his hand clasped firmly in Harry's.

"I can't wait to see the players, Daddy!" he exclaimed, his excitement palpable.

Harry chuckled, ruffling Cameron's hair affectionately.

"I know, buddy. It's going to be an amazing day," he replied, his heart swelling with love for his two sons.

The stadium wasn’t that busy, but that may be because the match didn’t kick off for another hour.

No one had managed to spot him thus far, so it was all smooth sailing.

Dexter was still in his arms, thumb in his mouth and Cameron was holding his fathers hand, his shoulder length curls tied back in a loose man bun that you had done this morning.

As they made their way through the bustling stadium, Cameron's stomach rumbled loudly, coincidently as they passed a nearby food stand.

Oh how he craved some warm food right now.

"Daddy, m’hungry!" he exclaimed, tugging on Harry's hand.

Harry chuckled. "Hungry, huh? Remember, it's not 'want', it's 'would like'," he gently corrected, trying to instill good manners in his son.

Cameron nodded eagerly, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the food stand.

"Okay, Daddy. Can I have a slice of pizza, please?" he asked politely, his stomach grumbling impatiently.

Harry smiled, proud of Cameron's manners.

"Of course, buddy. Let's see what they have," he replied, leading the way to the queue.

As they waited in line, Harry turned to Dexter, who was still cradled in his arms.

"And what about you, Dex? Would y’like anything to drink?" he asked, brushing a stray lock of hair from Dexter's forehead.

Dexter nodded enthusiastically, his eyes wide with excitement.

"Fruit shoot, please, Daddy!" he chirped, his little voice filled with anticipation.

He should have guessed.

Harry chuckled, planting a kiss on Dexter's cheek.

"Fruit shoot it is, champ," he replied, making a mental note to grab a couple of bottles for the boys.

Finally reaching the front of the queue, Harry ordered a slice of pizza for Cameron and a couple of fruit shoots for Dexter. As they walked away from the food stand, Cameron eagerly bit into his slice, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. And with Dexter happily sipping on his fruit shoot.

In the stands of the bustling stadium, Harry sat between his two boys, each in their own seat. Dexter, perched proudly in his own seat, had insisted on being a "big boy" for the match, his determination shining through as he sat upright, his legs swinging with excitement.

Though still too young to fully grasp the intricacies of the game, Dexter's eyes sparkled with wonder as he took in the sights and sounds of the stadium, his tiny hands gripping the edge of his seat in anticipation.

Cameron, on the other hand, was completely engrossed in the action on the field. With his Manchester United scarf wrapped around his neck and his eyes fixed on the players, he leaned forward eagerly, his heart racing with each pass and shot. His passion for the game was palpable, his entire being consumed by the thrill of the match unfolding before him.

As the game entered its fifth minute, Manchester United surged ahead with an early goal, igniting a chorus of cheers from the crowd.

Harry couldn't help but smile as he watched the excitement ripple through Cameron, his son's eyes shining with pure joy. And beside him, Dexter's infectious laughter filled the air, a constant reminder of the simple pleasures of being together as a family.

As the game entered its seventh minute, Manchester United's Rasmus Højlund seized an opportunity and scored a magnificent goal, sending the stadium into a frenzy of cheers and applause.

Cameron, unable to contain his excitement, leapt up from his seat, his eyes wide with jubilation as he started jumping up and down.

"Yes! Go, United!" he shouted, his voice filled with exhilaration.

Beside him, Dexter watched with wide-eyed wonder, not quite understanding what had just happened.

Sensing his confusion, Harry leaned down and whispered in Dexter's ear, "Dexter, our team just scored a goal! Isn't that exciting?"

Dexter's face lit up with understanding, and he clambered down from his seat, his tiny legs carrying him over to stand in front of Harry.

With a beaming smile, he reached out for Cameron's hand, eager to join in the celebration.

"Goal! Goal!" he exclaimed, mimicking his older brother's excited jumps.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of his two boys jumping up and down in unison, their laughter echoing through the stadium. Quickly pulling out his phone, he aimed the camera at them, capturing the precious moment for posterity.

As the final whistle blew, signaling the end of the match with Manchester United emerging victorious with a score of 2-1, Cameron was buzzing with excitement. He bounced around, his energy infectious as he reveled in his team's triumph.

Meanwhile, Dexter, nestled contentedly in Harry's arms, gazed up at his father with sleepy eyes, still basking in the excitement of the game.

Unbeknownst to the boys, Harry had a surprise in store for them. With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he decided to keep it a secret until the perfect moment. As they made their way out of the stadium, Cameron and Dexter assumed they were heading home, completely unaware of the surprise awaiting them.

A kind-hearted stadium staff member, noticing the boys' enthusiasm for the game, discreetly approached Harry and whispered about a special opportunity to visit the dressing room of Manchester United. Sensing the boys' excitement, Harry nodded gratefully, knowing that this unexpected treat would be the perfect end to an already unforgettable day.

They soon arrived at the changing rooms.

"Daddy, where are we going?" Cameron asked, his voice tinged with excitement and curiosity. Before Harry could respond, the door swung open, revealing a sight that left Cameron speechless.

His eyes widened in awe as he took in the scene before him—the dressing room of Manchester United, filled with his favorite players. For a moment, Cameron was rendered silent, his mouth hanging open in disbelief as he stood in the presence of his idols.

Meanwhile, Dexter, wide awake and brimming with enthusiasm, squirmed in Harry's arms, eager to explore. Spotting one of the players nearby, he wiggled free and dashed over without hesitation, his extroverted nature shining through as he greeted the player with a wide grin and a burst of chatter.

Harry couldn't help but laugh at Dexter's boldness, his heart swelling with pride at his son's fearlessness. As Dexter chatted animatedly with the player, Harry followed after him, a fond smile on his face as he watched his youngest son soak up the moment with unbridled joy.

Beside him, Cameron held onto Harry's trouser leg tightly, his shyness evident as he observed the scene with a mixture of awe and apprehension. Harry knelt down beside him, offering reassurance and encouragement.

"S’okay, Cam. They're just regular people, like you and me," he whispered, gently squeezing Cameron's hand in support.

Harry noticed Cameron's apprehension and knelt down beside him, offering a reassuring smile and a comforting squeeze of his hand.

"S’okay, buddy. Y’don't have to talk to anyone if you don't want to," he whispered gently, understanding his son's discomfort.

As the bustling activity in the dressing room continued, a familiar figure approached the trio.

It was Marcus Rashford, Cameron's favorite footballer.

The moment Cameron caught sight of him, his eyes widened in awe, and he instinctively tightened his grip on Harry's hand.

Harry smiled warmly as Marcus crouched down to Cameron's level.

"Hey there, buddy! Did you enjoy the game?" Marcus asked, his voice gentle and friendly.

Cameron nodded eagerly, his heart pounding with excitement.

"Y-yes! It wa-was amazing! Y-you're my favorite player," he stammered, his cheeks flushing with nervousness.

Marcus grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Thank you, mate! That means a lot to me. What's your name?" he asked, reaching out to ruffle Cameron's hair.

"C-Cameron," he replied, his voice trembling with excitement. "I-I've always wanted to be like you when I play football with my team."

Marcus's smile widened at Cameron's words.

"That's fantastic, Cameron! Keep working hard, and who knows, maybe one day you'll be playing for Manchester United too," he encouraged, his words filled with genuine warmth and encouragement.

Encouraged by Marcus's friendly demeanor, Cameron slowly began to relax. With Harry's reassuring presence beside him, he found the courage to step out from behind his father's leg and engage in conversation with his idol.

Harry, holding onto Dexter with his other hand to prevent him from wandering off again, watched proudly as Cameron and Marcus chatted animatedly. Despite Cameron's initial nervousness, his admiration for Marcus shone through, and Harry couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at his son's bravery.

And as they continued to talk, Cameron's stutter gradually faded away, replaced by an excited chatter as he eagerly shared his love for football with his idol. In that moment, surrounded by his father's support and the friendly encouragement of Marcus Rashford, Cameron felt like anything was possible.

As their conversation with Marcus continued, he noticed the excitement radiating from both Cameron and Dexter.

With a warm smile, Marcus gently interrupted their chatter.

"Hey guys, would you like to take a photo together?" he offered, extending his arms towards them.

Cameron's eyes lit up with excitement, while Dexter's face broke into a wide grin.

"Yes, please!" Cameron exclaimed, eager to capture the moment with their idol.

Marcus chuckled warmly as he scooped Dexter into one arm and Cameron into the other.

"Alright, let's get a picture," he said, positioning them carefully for the shot.

As Marcus held onto the boys, he glanced over at Harry, who stood nearby, watching with a proud smile.

"Would you like to join us in the photo?" Marcus asked, extending an invitation to Cameron and Dexter's father.

Harry's heart swelled with gratitude at the gesture.

"Absolutely," he replied, stepping forward to join the group.

With Harry now in the frame, another player from the team stepped forward to take the photo.

"Say cheese!" he called out, readying the camera.

Cameron, Dexter, and Harry beamed with excitement as the photo was taken, capturing the moment they shared with Marcus Rashford. As the shutter clicked, Harry felt a sense of overwhelming gratitude, knowing that this experience would be a cherished memory for years to come.

After the photo was taken, Cameron ran straight over to Harry, his eyes shining with tears of joy.

"Daddy, I love you so much! This has been the best day ever!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms around Harry in a tight hug.

Touched by Cameron's heartfelt words, Harry wrapped his arms around his son, holding him close.

"I love you too, Cam. M’so glad we could share this special moment together," he replied, his voice filled with emotion.

Feeling left out of the hug, Dexter toddled over, his arms outstretched.

"Me too! Hug, Daddy!" he chimed in, joining the embrace with a giggle.

Harry couldn't help but laugh at Dexter's enthusiasm, his heart overflowing with love for his two sons. Pulling them both close, he held them tightly, savoring the moment of pure happiness and love.

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, laughter mingled with tears of joy. In that moment, surrounded by the love of his family, Harry felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the beautiful memories they had created together. And as they headed home, hand in hand, he knew that this day would be etched in their hearts forever.

[bunnyywritings]

birthday special event !!

okay ! so, i wanted to do a fun little thing for my upcoming birthday (may 22nd) and i've been wanting to practice writing smut SO i came up with a onlyfans/pornstar!au with multiple characters (it's lowkey super self indulgent cause i love these characters sm)

it'll be throughout that week of may 19th-25th and here are the planned characters and their "videos"

sunday: nanami kento - lazy morning/soft sex monday: roy mustang - soft bdsm/he let's you think you have power tuesday: suguru geto - "caught" masterbating/guided masturbation wednesday: akira tendo - head while he plays video games/kinda voyer thursday: stein - (i'm not even sorry for this one) college prof. stein/shy straight A student friday: loid forger - i can't decide between "babysitter" reader or like forbidden co-workers or sumth saturday: toji fushiguro - i have no fucking clue

so i'm still in the process of writing but any and all comments or suggestions about the like theme of each "video" is welcome (please please please i need feedback) i'm excited for this and hopefully ya'll will be too

feedback here (or if you want to be added to the taglist) !!

[ash5monster01]

52nd Street

Chapter Six - Until The Night 🎶

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader

Warnings: 18+, angst, smut, oral (fem receiving), p in v, dirty talk, praise, no use of protection, language.

Summary: Finally at a real job, Steve finds that the both of you aren’t as close anymore. He yearns for the nights when you two are finally alone.

word count: 3.2k

Five ←→ Seven

Masterlist

Fall 1990

But now it feels as though the day goes on forever

It was great, at first. It was great when you planned the beautiful backyard wedding, and it was great when Steve landed his big job, even better when you were able to save up enough to buy back Steve’s childhood home. You were both living the dream, enjoying the married life, and finally doing what you both pictured when you first started dating. Thing was, no one ever really brings up how hard it can be.

When you were just dating it was easy, you both worked the same job, got to go home to your apartment together, were extremely involved in the other’s life. Now Steve left for work and you worked from home. When you were done with that you ran errands, and found yourself lacking any conviction in life. As for Steve, the job would run him down, doing the very thing he promised himself he never would, but he wanted to provide for you. Wanted to share a life that wasn’t constantly a struggle and if work was the only thing he had to sacrifice, then so be it. Just sometimes, he couldn’t shake that mood when he got home.

Because of all of this you had lost some of that passion, that desperation to always be with each other, and Steve was determined to get it back. He did his part, he never asked where you go during the day when he leaves for work in the morning, the both of you going your different ways to seperate situations, and it wasn't that easy anymore. It was required of him to do what must be done and give his time to total strangers. He could no longer save that all for you and it made his days feel like they go on forever. More than they ever did before. So today, on this very Friday he promised himself he would make the most of it. Until the night, when he could make it up to you. He might just make it, eyes trained on the clock and small pile of paperwork in front of him.

"Hey Lenny" you smile fondly at the bag boy that had been working in the local grocery for a few months now. Considering you went shopping at the same time every other Friday, you had come to know many of the workers here.

"Hey Mrs. Harrington, beautiful day today" the sweet young boy answered and you couldn't help but cringe at the name. Mrs. made you feel old, which hopefully you weren’t yet. Then again you were married at twenty three, feeling vaguely like a teenager and an adult all at the same time. You always wondered if things would have been different if you and Steve had gone to college. Either way, you only liked it when Steve called you Mrs. Harrington because it normally led to something a bit more pleasing.

"One of the last good ones Lenny, it'll be cold before you know it" you grinned at him as you loaded the items onto the belt, already mentally checking off that you had everything you would need for the next two weeks. Lost in another world you do not notice the big haired brunnette rolled up behind you. Startling almost instantly when she calls your name.

"Hey Nancy" you grin at her, her soft feautres beaming back at you. Still gorgeous as the first day you met her, you can't help but feel the twinge in your gut everytime you remember she was the first girl your husband loved. You had to remind yourself that was another lifetime ago, years seperating the two and now you were married to Steve and she was engaged to Johnathon, the wedding invite for this coming summer already on your fridge.

"How're you, how's Steve, heard he finally took that big job his Dad offered him? You'll have to have us over for dinner soon, I'm desperate to see how you redecorated" she rambles out, too many thoughts on the forefront of her mind and suddenly you feel overwehlmed. Mind stuck on your absent husband who tried his hardest but couldn't escape the effects of his job. How bored you were all alone all day just to have Steve come home to tired to talk. To tired to do anything really.

Nancy see's the tears rimming your eyes almost instantly and she suddenly feels guilty for anything she had said wrong. She's quick to beckon you along, helping you with your groceries and pretty soon it's not long until you are both stood out of the store, bagged items clinking along in your carts. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, really, I'm just overwehlmed" you try to tell her, eyes red and strained from fighting off tears. She shakes her head as you both reach your car, her automatically helping. You already felt bad for scarring Lenny with your meltdown.

"Talk to me, you know I'll understand" she urges, eyes full of fondness and you know it's true. She knew what it was like to be in a long time relationship at your age, she was going through it the same as you, and if anyone understood it would be her. With this in mind you let out a heavy sigh and decide to allow it.

"Steve has just been distant lately. It's not his fault, I know it's the job. He never wanted to work for his Dad, you know that, but he took the job for us. He wanted something that could sustain a future and I agreed, but now we've lost that connection. He comes home too tired for me and sometimes I wonder if we would've been better off staying in our small apartment and running that stupid video store" you spill, all of your fears and emotions barren for the girl who least expected to be in the store parking lot with you, sharing your sadness.

"That's not true, and I'm sure he feels bad about it too. Steve loves you, I see it everytime he looks at you. You guys are just stuck right now" she says with the soft shake of her head and you can't help but sigh. You weren't sure how much more you could take with this no talking thing.

“God I hope you’re right, it would be so tragic if the end of us was something as silly as this. Especially when the whole reason he proposed was because I promised I’d love him just the way he is” you say, hands pressing up to your eyes to relieve some tension and tears. Nancy shifts uncomfortably, knowing she was probably part of the very reason Steve had those trust issues. A lifetime ago she had once called the entirety of him bullshit and she regretted it always.

“Just, try to talk to him tonight. Who knows, maybe things will be different” she smiles at you, silver engagement ring glimmering in the sun as she sets the last of your bags in the trunk. You smile right back, collecting the small brunette into a hug.

“Thanks Nance, we’ll have you and Johnathon over for dinner soon. I promise” you tell her and she smiles, hugging you back tightly.

“Good luck tonight” she tells you as she pulls back, gentle features searching your own and you smile, a weight already lifted from your shoulders after your brief talk with her.

“Until the night” you nod and she gives one last smile and wave before pushing her cart to her own car and leaving you to make your way home. Until the night, you just might make it, when you see him again.

You’re only halfway through putting groceries away when you hear the familiar rumble of the BMW pull into the driveway. You hate the way your shoulders deflate just at the idea of Steve coming in and barely paying you any mind. So you continue to put the groceries away as he makes his way in, tie already loose around his neck as he spots you working away in the kitchen.

Steve notices how you barely even turn to greet him, a sad smile on your face as you continue to do what you always did on Friday nights when he got home. He can see how afraid you are that you’ve both changed but sadly the two of you were just getting older. No longer eighteen year old kids excited to explore the big world. You both had been through a lot and he hated that he was slowly turning into his father. A shell of a man no longer in touch with the love he might’ve shared. This very thought is what brings him to walk towards you and wrap his arms around you from behind.

“Hi Rosy” he breathily whispers, head ducking and placing a kiss on the expanse of your neck. You can’t help but stiffen in his arms, almost shocked by the action. This was the Steve you first fell in love with all those years ago, and you hated how odd it was to see him.

“How was work?” you bring yourself to ask and Steve sighs, chin coming to rest on your shoulder.

“Terrible, couldn’t do a thing just waiting to come home and see you” he admits, knowing all to well how he couldn’t keep his mind off of you all day. You can’t help the way your eyebrows draw together in suspicion and you’re quick to turn around in his arms and face your husband.

“Where is this coming from?” And the question makes the guilt twist in his gut with disgust, hating how he had been treating you these last few months. That was going to change, it needed to change.

“I know I haven’t been great lately. Sometimes it’s hard to remember how many broken hearts and lonely faces we’ve shared over the years. We’ve had lovers come and go but we agreed to stay for each other and I haven’t been doing my part” Steve earnestly says, brows furrowed in sadness and his hands locked around your waist as if he let go you would disappear.

“Steve-“ you start with the shake of your head but he’s quick to stop you, hazel eyes searching your own and trying to portray all the regret buried deep within him.

“I know I’ll have my fears like every man and you’ll have tears like every woman but we got this. Even if today we’re unsure but this is what we believe, I believe in us and I want to know how we can go on? I’m going to make a change because not having you until the night is torture” the words he speaks are ones you had been dying to hear for a very long time and you can’t help but smile as your hands reach to cradle his face.

“It’s been torture for me too” you tell him and just like that his lips are sealed against yours in a kiss, his body weight pushing against you and you get sandwiched between him and the counter. You kiss him like a woman starved, which technically you were. Starving for a desirable touch from your husband who wants nothing but you in that moment.

As Steve kisses you he makes a promise to himself. A promise that when the sun goes down and the day is over, and the last of the light is gone as people pour into the street, he will make his way to you. Getting closer as each of the cars turn their headlights on, you’ll be opening up just as they’re closing it down. Work was no longer going to control him, it was just something for him to do during the day until he came home and dedicated himself to you. He knows this to be true when your fingers slide up and through his hair, lower belly nudging against him. He just smiles into your lips as his hands hook under your legs and lift you to the counter.

“I love you” he says in a way that reassures instead of searches for a response. You smile into the kiss, locking your legs around his waist and pulling him flush against you.

“Then show me” you urge him, fingers digging into his shoulders and you slowly grind against the zipper of his jeans. God bless casual Fridays. Steve just grins, hands hooking under you to carry you to the bedroom, dinner and groceries now long forgotten. He loves that while people were going to sleep, you’ll be just starting to touch. He planned to have it that way every night, thankful he was finally beginning to feel again and beginning to give. It had been such a long time and he liked how it made him feel alive.

“You’re so perfect” Steve grins against your skin, kisses trailing down your neck and to your chest. The sensation brings you back to the very first time you ever slept together, how sweet and caring he was. Just the idea of it brings your hands to his hair, softly tugging just as he starts nudging up the hem of your shirt and placing a soft kiss on your stomach. When his fingers curl in the waistband of your pants you can’t help but whimper, needing so much more.

Steve grins at the sound, wasting no time in tugging your pants down, revealing your panties where a wet patch had already started to form. He groans as his tongue glides over it, desperate for a taste of you because it had been so long. Writhing beneath him, he takes his time as he slowly slides the panties down your legs and revealing your glistening core. Steve smiles at you while he drags his finger through your folds, collecting your arousal on the tip of his finger and nudging your clit.

“Please Steve” you beg him as he removes his finger and places it in his mouth. His eyes sparkle with amusement, much darker from the mix of lust and teasing he had been doing.

“Please what?” he asks while feigning innocence. As if he wasn’t currently between your legs right now.

“I need your mouth” you tell him, voice heavy and full of desire. Steve doesn’t need to be told twice as his dips down, nose nudging against your clit as he licks a long stripe through your folds. You moan, the sound becoming strangled when his lips close around your clit and suck hard. Your moans encourage him, bringing him to eat you like a man starved. Your hands find his hair again, caressing the brunette locks as he shoves a finger inside.

“So fucking tight” he mutters, voice raspy and strangled. You can’t help but admire the way he tries his best not to grind into the side of the bed as he listens to your moans.

You do Steve a favor and make quick work of removing your top and bra as he continues to eat you out like an expert. Your legs start to shake the minute you pinch your own nipples and when Steve looks up to see what you’re doing, he nearly faints. “Let me baby,” he muffles into your pussy as you feel that coil begin to tighten. His hands replace your own, groping at the dough of your breasts as you try not to grind against his face.

“Fuck Steve, I’m going to cum” you tell him and that only brings him to move faster, tongue exploring all of you as you shake against him. When he sucks hard on your clit again, you find your eyes rolling back in your head as your orgasm washes over you. He smirks proudly, wiping at his lip as he stands from you, watching as you shake against the mattress.

“Such a good girl” he grins, starting to undo the buttons on his shirt. You watch him shamelessly, admiring the bulge tucked away in his jeans. Steve smiles the whole time, watching you admire him as he strips to his naked form. Your mouth waters at the sight of his chest hair and you can’t help but giggle as his naked form crawls over top of you.

“I’ve needed this” you tell him, panting as he reaches to nudge the tip of him against your folds. His eyes bore into yours, desire for you through the roof.

“Yeah baby?” he asks and you nod, almost on the verge of tears if he didn’t do something soon.

“Yeah, needed you” you tell him in a whine and Steve grins, guiding himself into you, slowly sinking in. You grip his shoulders at the sensation, nails leaving crescent moon marks against his shoulder blades.

“Fuck” you breathily mutter and Steve grins, moving just as agonizingly slow as he fully bottoms himself out. Steves head tips back at the sensation, not moving right away as your walls flutter around him.

“I wanted you to know before I leave again, before the light of dawn, and before this evening can end, I have been waiting for this for so long” Steve says and before you can respond to the heart felt words he’s pulling back and plunging himself in again. You moan out as Steve finds a steady pace, head dropping back down to look at you. He doesn’t miss the way your breasts bounce from his thrusts and he finds himself steadying with his hands on your chest, ramming into you as he feels your nipples pebble beneath his palms.

“So perfect Rosy” he praises, closing his eyes tight as he struggles not to come undone. Still sensitive from your first orgasm you find it hard to even register how good it all feels. When he starts hitting that one spot you feel your back arch against the covers. Steve knows this tell, had seen it a hundred times before, so he quickens his pace, moaning as you tighten around him more and more.

Before you can even process it, your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, nearly knocking you out. You practically leave earth as Steve continues to drive into you, relishing in the vice grip you have around his length. His hips stutter when his own orgasm follows, coating your insides as he smiles and starts to drop his body weight against you. When you both calm he doesn’t bother sliding out just yet, enjoying the feeling of being this close to you. Being one with you.

All day he kept thinking until the night he just might make it. If he just kept holding on for when he saw you again. If he had known it would’ve been like this, he never would’ve survived. So he lays against you, bare skin slick with sweat and sticking to his own. He loves that he can hear the thump of your heart in his ear, pounding as you came down from your high. He waited his whole life for someone like you and to think he almost wasted a second of it. He was so glad he figured it all out. Just how badly he needed you and always would.

“Now that was fun” you say, hands softly grazing through his hair as he relaxed against you and Steve smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your chest.

“Good, because it’s happening every night from here on out baby” he says with a smile and you laugh lightly, Steve’s head bouncing against you because of it.

“Until the night then”

Taglist: @slvtforstve @keerygal @goosy-goose @livsters @blckburd @loveshotzz @ohwauwdoritos @superblysubpar @southereads @amataadriana @violet2022 @mxrcjqckspnchqsc @madaboutjoe @thunderstomp-and-tequila @justdamnpeachy @micheledawn1975 @fangfatale @kingstevesgf @notlilyyyy @eddiesguitarskills @palmtreesx3 @momospeaches47 @pbs-theundeadmaggot @xuimhao @lianna75 @lvjmel @sadbitchfangirl @halflifejess @starkleila @ellharrington @avobabe87

Comment if you want to be added to the taglist :))

[fallenangelicss]

Catching Stray Kisses

PAIRING | Bridget | Queen of Hearts/James Hook

WORD COUNT | 1077

SUMMARY | When bored in class, Briget reverts to people-watching to pass the time. What she didn't expect was to find someone already watching her. The culprit behind it also seems to be pretty good at pulling a rise out of her.

RATING | Teen And Up Audiences

WARNING/TAG(S) | No Archive Warnings Apply

A/N | This is my first time partaking in a month-long prompt list so I'm going to do my best to keep up with it can get as many done as I can. It'll hopefully give me a reason to write more which I desperately need. Also, if you'd like to support me then you should consider downloading the Kinder World app with this link. My referral code is WV9K4X but if you need a new referral code then feel free to reach out!

EVENTS | @aug-kissed | Blow A Kiss

AO3 LINK | Read Here

Bridget sat bored in class, her head resting on one of her hands as her feet kicked back and forth under the desk. As much as she loved Merlin’s classes, they tended to drag on when they weren’t doing any sort of practical work. The singular hour that they were in the room seemed to stretch on for days and it didn’t help at all that it was the last lesson before they were free to do as they pleased. 

Ella sat next to her, carefully taking notes as Merlin taught at the front of the room, occasionally writing what seemed to be nonsense on the chalkboard. Bridget knew it would be smarter for her to just pay attention now so she wouldn’t have to beg Ella later for her notes but she couldn’t bring herself to focus on the teacher for more than a few moments at a time, all the information he was spouting going in through one ear and out the other. 

It was honestly exhausting just sitting there. Bridget was ready to go up to her dorm and take a nap until dinner time then maybe make some sort of sweet treat afterwards that she could share around. She didn’t know what she would make but she knew she was itching to stand in front of her homemade mini-kitchen and get back to what she loved doing. 

Letting her eyes dance around the classroom after they instinctively went back to the clock hanging on one of the walls, seeing how they still had another twenty minutes to go before class was over, Bridget resorted to some sightseeing, attempting to find something that could keep her occupied while she waited for the bell to ring. 

Most of the students in the room, like her, seemed to be too bored to comprehend what was happening in front of them which could only be Merlin’s fault as he should’ve known better than to give anyone a theory lesson as their last class on a Friday. 

Like most days, Bridget noticed Uliana terrorising some of her classmates with her tentacles, trying to be discreet about it. At her side sat Morgie, which Bridget wasn’t surprised to see. Laughing almost uncontrollably at whatever it was that Uliana did, Morgie was always attempting to be a good villain for her. Another thing Bridget wasn’t surprised to see was Hades and Maleficent sat next to one another, their hands interlocked while Maleficent sketched something on some scrap paper and Hades messed around with some sort of fire magic. 

What Bridget was however surprised to see was Hook sitting by himself and staring directly at her. Normally he would be the one sitting next to Uliana, if not he would drag Morgie into the seat next to him so he was never by himself. But to see him alone and staring directly at Bridget was a shock, especially when he didn’t look away once he noticed Bridget had caught onto his stare. 

Blinking a few times to make sure she wasn’t seeing things, Bridget came face to face with Hook every time she opened her eyes. Not knowing what to do, a shy smile made its way onto her face to not seem rude under Hook’s stare. 

What Hook did next though threw her for a loop.

A smile of his own crept its way onto Hook’s face, the grin being more of a smirk than anything else. His eyes slowly crept up and down Bridget's frame before sending a wink her way, making a pink hue dust her cheeks as she zapped back around and faced the front of the classroom.

“Are you okay,” Ella asked, noting how Bridget was sitting with her spine straight and a flustered expression on her face. Still taking notes as she waited for an answer, Ella’s eyes ticked up to where Bridget was attempting to glance over her shoulder without getting caught and failing to do so. “Did something happen?”

“Nope,” Bridget quickly said, hands coming together and interlocking. Although Ella wasn’t born to much status like Bridget was, she could still notice when someone’s Princess was showing and that was exactly what was happening here as Bridget gushed to herself. Something regarding a boy had just happened and Ella was going to figure out what and who it was no matter what. “Everything is perfectly fine and normal. No reason to be worried at all.”

“Saying that just makes me more suspicious,” Ella warned, noticing how Bridget tensed up a little before sighing, almost as if her resolve was breaking. With just a little more pressure, Bridget would spill everything to her but it seemed like not much effort would be needed from Ella as Bridget was already undoing herself, fidgeting in her seat as she tried not to look back and giveaway who it was. Stopping for a moment before Ella looked back herself to see who it was, she rested a hand on Bridget’s arm and said, “It’s fine Bridget, you can tell me anything. I’m certainly not one to judge you.”

“You’re right,” Bridget smiled, returning the favour and grabbing onto Ella’s wrist, running a thumb over it. “I just noticed someone staring at me and…” “And you think they’re cute?” Ella finished the sentence for her, one of her eyebrows raising at Bridget as she waited for a response. Thinning her lips together, Bridget nodded her head, the blush that was previously coating her cheeks intensifying. “Okay, who is it?”

“Well…” Bridget trailed off, her eyes flicking backwards before looking back at Ella. With a nod of her head in his direction, the two of them looked back at the same time to see Hook still staring at Bridget, the same smirk still coating his face. His eyes didn’t move from Bridget’s face, solely focused on her and not even acknowledging Ella. Raising his hand that wasn’t occupied with a hook, Hook blew a kiss towards Bridget, a chuckle pouring from his mouth when both Bridget and Ella whipped back around.

“Did he just?” Bridget started, not having to finish her sentence for Ella to understand.

“Yeah,” She nodded, just as surprised as Bridget. This was news to Ella. She would have to do a serious amount of stalking and research before she let that pirate anywhere near her friend but for now, it wouldn’t hurt. “Looks like you won’t have to look too hard for a Castlecoming date.”

[starsomens]

Primal

A/N: I was looking around for a prompt generator and I had found one specifically for NSFW prompts and this one prompt caught my eye and HAD to write it so please enjoy 😘. Here’s the link to the generator

Warnings: exhibitionism!, not proofread. outdoor(ish) sex, public(ish) sex, getting caught (kind of) PIV sex, unprotected (WRAP IT!),oral (female), dirty talk, marking, slight degradation, Noah x Y/N with slight x Nick Folio, kind of threesome to an extent (??), Noah is aware of it (sort of), this is a work of FICTION! proceed caution!!

Prompt: Exhibitionism. While out in the wilderness with friends, family, or a tour group, Noah and Y/N fuck in their tent, getting off on the idea that someone could possibly hear them. Bonus points for a member of their party catching them and watching them or listening to them, but not saying a thing.

The air was fresh and crisp, the scenery was gorgeous, and you could understand why so many people loved camping and hiking. There was so much peace and tranquility. Birds of all colors and sizes would fly and chirp as you pass them by. No schedules, no deadlines, no tour bus, just time to relax. That mixed friends and your boyfriend made it all better.

It was the end of the tour and you all thought having some time out together would be a great time to unwind. Noah new a hiking trail that also had some great camping spots. Noah, you, Jolly, Folio and Nick all headed there for the weekend staring from Friday and you'd leave by Sunday afternoon.

"Guys look back," you call as you snap a picture on your polaroid. You snapped a great picture of them on the trail with a view of thick trees behind them, and some genuine smiles

"Hey, Y/N where are your bags?" Jolly asked tilting his head to the side

"I got it," Noah said holding it up with a bit of a shake. Most of you things were in one big back together while yours had supplies. Soap, extra undies, the battery pack, medicine, the emergency stuff.

"He didn't let me take it for myself, even when I asked if he wanted a break and he said-"

"No, cause we're almost there" he said coming up to a small hill and at the bottom was the campsite. Luckily the park that offered them had areas that can be reserved for people, while still giving space and privacy to others who might be camping. The area was a bit higher than where the lake was and the view was gorgeous! You had gotten there early just so you could set the tents up and hopefully have a swim.

You and Noah had brought a tent to share while Jolly had set his up, Folio need some help with his. He somehow was setting it up correctly....but inside out....

Nick secured any food you brought to be sure of bears not finding it. For now it'll be in a small safe provided by the park until you were ready to eat. The sun had come to it's peak at around 2:30 pm and you were all ready to have some fun! Of course you nearly forced them all to use sunblock before even leaving the camp area. While everyone was just changing in the open! You quickly changed inside the privacy of your tent with Noah waiting outside

"hey babe," he called

"Yeah? I'm almost done!" You answered

"Oh you're fine was just gonna say I can see the shadow of your boobs" he smirks to himself, you give a small shriek and fold into a ball trying to cover yourself "Babe, babe I'm playing! You're fine" he chuckled

As you unzip the tent you groan "Noah! Can you at least help me tie the top?" you look up at him as if he now owed you the favor for pulling that stunt

"Of course princess" you turn around and hold the pieces in place while he tied it. You could see the guys getting a head start, Noah most likely telling them you’d catch up. After he was done tying up the strings he kissed the nape of your neck

“I love this one on you babe, you look great” he smiles at you as you turn to him and you peck the bottom of his chin

"Come on let's get in the water!" you take his hand and lead him to the rope that hung from the tree that leaned over the lake. Noah took the first swing and landed with a splash into the water below. You catch the rope and hold it to your chest, taking a look at the jump you'd take. The guys were in the water encouraging you to come down

"Come on Y/N, Its just a swing! You'll get down here in 5 seconds flat!" Folio tried to make it seem less intimidating.

"Come on Y/N, you live with a fucking tree, you can handle this!" Jolly calls pointing to Noah

"Just swing down Y/N, I'm right here come on!" Noah said opening his arms to you. You take in a deep breath, hold it and run off the ledge holding on to the rope and letting go just a few feet from Noah. The cool water surrounded you as you swam up to the surface, if you weren't awake before, you were now

The guy cheered and clapped for you as if you were a performing diver for the Olympics "Nice job facing your fears Y/N"

"hey I wasn't scared!" you laugh splashing Nick. Noah coming up behind you and snakes his arms around your waist. You had he was going to be romantic and hold you in the water....but you were wring. Suddenly he flips you over his head and back into the water once. again.

"NOAH! Ugh I'm get you for that!" you smack his shoulder

"Awwhhh baby I'm sowwwyyyy" he said almost mockingly

This was exactly what you all needed after tour. Just relaxation, and fun. After about an hour in the lake Folio had gotten out to start some fishing, and Nick had started on some food. You and Noah sat down under the tree. You head laid on his shoulder as his hands played with yours. Your chin rests on his shoulder as you admire his features. His beautiful skin with some freckles just underneath his eyes, his sharp jawline and beautiful nose. Those deep dark eyes you love to lose yourself in, and of course that smile. That smile was what did it for you then and still does it for you now.

“What are you looking at pretty girl?” He asked you with a smirk finally catching you

“I’m looking at a pretty boy” you answer with eyes full of love

“Is that so?” He asked twisting his body to face you more “well, can this pretty boy kiss the pretty girl?” He asked

"of course your can" you close your eyes and lose yourself in the feeling of his lips on yours. His hand cups your jaw and holds you deeper in the kiss. the leaves sing in the wind as the breeze lifts your hair. When he pulls away he pecks your nose

"Did I ever tell you, that you're gorgeous as hell?"

"I think I may have heard that once or twice" you smile feeling your cheeks burn from the blush that crept to the flesh.

He leans down to your ear "you're also the reason my pants are so tight now" you furrow your brows in confusion and when you look down you see the slight tent forming in his pants

"Noah...really? Out here? What did it for you?" you ask trying to hide your giggle

"Well you tell me," he said looking around "I'm here with my sexy girl wearing a bikini that only makes her hotter, and I'm really debating on taking you into the forest and fucking you against a tree"

You could feel yourself ache just a bit at the thought of having sex, out camping of all places! Maybe if you didn't have your friends and his band members here you would have considered it.

"Well as much as I'd love that, maybe we can tomorrow when they go on a trail hm?" he pat his chest "How's that sound?"

"We'll see baby, come on let's get some food" he said helping you up and adjusting his situation before taking your hand and walking to the food that was being cooked.

...

As the night came, you all changed out of your wet clothes and gathered by the fire. The food was amazing! Of course, you and Nick had prepped them before packing and they came out perfect for the trip. The later it got the more beautiful and clear the stars became. Noah's arm was around your shoulder as your fingers linked together. Your lay a kiss to his hand and he returns it to your head

"Ugghhh the love birds are at it again" Folio groans, teasing you both

"Don't be jealous Nick! We can find you a nice nature girl out here" Jolly shoots back

"hey! I'd sweep her off your feet for your information" he defended with a confident smile

"I'm sure you would Nick," you answer "How about we get some rest to get a good start tomorrow? I don't know about you but that food has me sleepy" you said stretching

"I'm already ahead of you" Nick said getting up and diving into his tent, ready to get some sleep. Luckily since the are is meant for camping, the floor was pretty flat and clear of twigs, roots or anything sharp. The fire was at a safe distance to keep on for the night to avoid the area getting too cold. You bid each other good night and go into you own tents. Noah shuts yours tent, with enough room for some ventilation. You had both gotten a double sleeping bag just so you didn't have to be apart, plus you still wanted cuddles.

You both climb in and snuggle into each other. Your head on his chest, and your leg was over his hip, the best and most convenient position for you both since Noah tends to sleep on his back more often then you.

"Good night princess" he squeezed you tights and kissed the center of your forehead. "I hope snakes don't crawl in here-"

"Noah! Stoooppp" he giggles and rests his chin on your head for the night

. .. ... An hour must have passed by now and you still couldn't sleep! You turned around so your back was facing your boyfriend but you couldn't get the conversation from early out of your head. The idea of you both having sex, out here, trying to keep quiet, the risk the passion. You could feel yourself getting hotter and hotter with just the thought of it. You couldn't help but rub your thighs together to get some kind of relief from the ache between your legs. You had accidentally bumped into Noah with your ass 1 or 2 times. Luckily, he hadn't booked enough or make a move to think that he may have.

At this point, you were just feeling desperate and wanted to feel release. Do you lift your head just a bit to see or hear if anyone else was awake. luckily, it seemed as if you were the only 1 for now. You cautiously call to your boyfriend to see if he was awake

You cautiously call to your boyfriend to see if he was awake "noah!" you quietly yell "are you awake?"

A few seconds passing you thought that maybe he really was asleep, but then he answered you and realized that he in fact was also awake

"of course I am with the way you're rubbing your ass against me" he whispered " If I didn't know any better, I'd say that my little slut is feeling needy" He whispered closer to your ear, feeling his hot breath against your skin. his large hand grazes over your waist and onto your stomach. finding his way under your shirt and up to your bare breast, where he gave a slight squeeze.

"mmm Noah" you whine trying to keep your noise to a minimum.

"shh shh shh, careful princess, we don't want the others to wake up do we?" he shushes you scooting closer to you until his hard cock was against your ass. His hips grind up against you, even if it wasn't direct contact it felt so good, you wanted more and you wanted him.

You flip around and your lips instantly lock in a kiss, his hand brings your leg over his hip. You grind against him finally getting sensation through the thin fabric of your shorts. He swiftly flips you on to your back and kisses along your neck, each kiss searing into your skin, your heart racing and anticipating what was to come next.

"Noah please..I need-"

"Shh princess, I gotchu" he hushed you as he sat back on his knees and pulls down your bottoms and tosses them to the side. His hands spread your knees open for him to see the wet print on the center of those cute blue panties he loves. He lifts your but on to his lap and removes the last barrier between him and your pussy. Noah had one rule when it came to sex: he always eats you out before he fucks you. With the limited space that was in here he simply lifted your hips up enough to bring his meal to him.

You bite your lip from being help at this angle. Your knees dangle over his shoulder as his breath creeps up your thigh. His eyes never leaving yours as his mouth slowly comes in contact with your wet pussy and gives a long, slow lick from bottom to top, his tongue flicking your bundle of nerves

You could feel the air from your lungs escape completely as he ate you out. His nose began nudging at your clit as his tongue worked between your fold and prodding at your entrance. While one hand kept you hoisted up in the air, the other one snakes down your body and pushes your shirt over your breasts. Your nipples exposed to the cold air, hardening at the pleasure he was giving you, and being exposed in a risky environment. His large hand massages the flesh and rolls your nipple between his fingers.

“Noah…feel s’good,” you moan “ don’t…. Please don’t stop.”

He loved when you told him not to stop, especially when you said please. His hand retreats from your breast and comes up to your pussy. His lips wrap around and suck your clit between his lips as his long digits enter you and pump in and out. His fingers curl and hit your sweetest spot making you nearly cry out waking up everyone who is there. Your hand slaps over your mouth as you try to keep quiet.

Noah, for one was enjoying the view. Had his mouth on your pussy, giving you immense pleasure while he watched your face contort in the best of ways. Feeling you pulse around his his middle and ring finger made his chest swell with pride, knowing he was the one that was making you feel good. Little did he know that there were an extra set of eyes watching from a distance.

Over in folio’s tent, the drummer, completely shocked by what he was seeing. He was woken up by some suspicious noises and set up to see what was going on. At first, he thought he may have been dreaming and it could not have possibly been what he was thinking. His tent was directly across from yours at a certain Angle getting him. Perfect access through the slightly cracked zipper of your tent. Watching his close friend and leadof their band, eating out his girlfriend in their tent. They hadn’t even noticed how far the tent was left unzipped. He knew that they left it just slightly inserted. Maybe it was the movement, maybe they opened it more? He doesn’t know the reason why he was able to see so much into their private time. Was that he could not find himself looking away Either. 

All he knew was that he could feel his shorts growing tighter the longer that he watched. He knew that it was wrong, but for some reason he just couldn’t look away. he couldn’t see your face he could just see you being eaten out from the distance. His heart was pounding, trying to keep his breath at a minimum. His pants were getting tighter by the second to the point it was nearly painful, but wouldn’t be wrong to touch himself watching his two friends have sex? More thoughts were flooding into his mind. Things he would never think of before. Like what if it was him eating you out instead? Him being the one to give you pleasure, to make you moan and scream. But for now, just watching you receive pleasure was enough for him as his hands begin to lift and beyond the elastic of his shorts. He watched as Noah changed positions and had you on top.

You peel the shirt off of your body and toss it to the side as you adjust yourself to sink onto his hard dick. The sweetness of the stretch in the, fullness you felt in your lower stomach. Something about being out in a camping site, with his friends nearby, sleeping in their tents, made your body shiver in pleasure. Not necessarily to be watched, but the risk of being caught ignite something in your chest. You look down to see Noah with his eyebrows nipped together feeling the pleasure of your pussy constrict around him. You move your hips back-and-forth grinding your clit against his pubic bone as his dick stretched, and filled you, rubbing against your spot. You were seeing more than stars at this point. It was pure ecstasy, running through your body.

“Fuck princess… so tight and wet.” he whispers, obviously struggling to keep his voice down. “ do you like this? do you like when I fuck you outside, knowing there are people around? Such a little slut…but,” he comes up from his position to sit and come close your ear and whisper “ you’re my slut. My dirty little princess.” His hand, grabbed at your ass as he guides you up and down his cock. His mouth working at your collarbone, leaving bite marks, and bruises. your feet now planted on the ground as you walked back-and-forth against each other. The slight clap of skin against skin filled the quiet night air period the only other noise to be heard was the cracking of the fire. Just over your shoulder he had noticed something in the distance. Could it be possible that another pair of eyes were watching? You simply closed his eyes and came down to your nibble and began to suck and laugh at the sensitive skin.

“Yeah…right there, Noah” you pant “ So fucking good”

All of a sudden he pulls out of you, causing a wine to slip from your lips, losing the feeling of fullness and stretch. He turns you around and pushes your shoulders down onto the ground of the tent. The sliver of light that crept into your tent, making your body look celestial in the glow of the fire. He lines himself up and pushes the tip slowly before he bottoms out in one thrust into you. One reason he loved doggy was the primal feeling in his chest. Much less being out in the forest he felt like this is what you were meant to do. Find your person and marking them as yours and just fill them over and over again. Something about it just felt so natural and primal. If it weren’t for the extra people that were with you, he would have you screaming your head off.

He leans back as he watches himself pump in and out of you. Watching you take all of him, inch by inch your body arching more towards him, wanting to feel more of him. It made his cock harder and pulse each time, his large hand massaged the flesh of your ass so badly to spank you, but knowing that you would definitely wake everyone up. His body comes down until his chest molds with the arch of your back. His lips brush against the shell of your ear as he says

“ who does this pussy belong to?” he asked.

“Y-you..” you whimper out as his hips give slow short, thrust, extending, and prolonging the pleasure that you were chasing

“ say it baby,” he growls “ see how much you like being fucked and people know the only I can fuck you this good”

“I… I love it Noah” you squeal trying to keep your voice down, feeling your throat ache, wanting so badly to moan out “ I love it so much”

Nicks hand was coated with pre-cum as his hand quickly pumps up and down his deck. He could see your ass ripple with each thrust in the glow of the fire. each thrust your body jump and arch with pleasure. He just wish that he could see how your face twisted and pleasure. The way your mouth fell open when you were close. Fuck! This was so wrong!...but...but why does it feel so good? He's never felt so hard in his hand, never felt so good.

“Yeah baby…take it…take it” he huffs as his hand leaves your body and locks his fingers with yours and squeezed tightly. He ruts against you as he stutters and bites down on your shoulder to surpressed his own noises.

“Where..where?” He asked feeling himself close to cumming. He straightens himself again and gives you the last few hard thrusts. His eyes no longer on you but through the tent crack and gave a smirk, knowing damn well someone had enjoyed their night with a free show. Now most would think this wasn't ideal but in Noah's mind his first thought was

"that's right...all you can do is watch but never touch"

“I-inside…aahhh” you whine

He pounds into you with a few short but strong thrusts and spills into your pussy. Your walls milking and pulsing around him sweetly.

you shake as an orgasm rattles through your body, shaking your to your core. Your ass shivers against his hips as he pushes you over the edge. The lightheadedness, the tightness of your stomach, the way you pulse around him, the warmth that oozed out. He pulled out slowly and grabbed his shirt to clean you up. Pulling his shorts up again he helps to find yours and opens his arms for you to lay in

"Think you can sleep now?" he chuckles against your hair "little minx"

"hey!" you giggle "you like it when I'm a minx" you fire back

"I like you even if you weren't one" he kissed your head "Now go to sleep before someone gets up and asks why we're outta breath"

Nick sat in his tent, steamy and hot staring at his hand and the mess he had made. He couldn't believe what he had just done and how it had ended (lol post nut clarity). He cleans off his hand and plops back down on his sleeping back and stared through the see through room of this tent.

"fuck..." was all he could say when he processed what happened. Getting off to what he saw, fantasizing about you, and worse

Noah catching him and smirking at him! Tomorow morning was sure to be interesting.

「✨Taglist✨」 @lilhobgobbler @cncohshit @vir-tual @tdopomymind @concretenoah @misspygmypie @fvckmeorchokeme @lust-for-sacher @thescarlettvvitch @cind6547 @itsmrsfuentes @purple-lili @ima1986

[ofmdrecaps]

10/23/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Rhys Darby; Gizmo Darby; Taika Waititi; Vico Ortiz; Samba Schutte; Kristian Nairn; Nathan Foad; Ewen Bremner; Anapela Polataivao; Guz Khan; OFMD Rewind with Adopt Our Crew; Data w/Seven_Sugars; Articles; Love Notes; Daily Darby / Today's Taika.

== Rhys Darby ==

An interview with "The Upcoming" on the red carpet of "That Christmas" is up on Youtube! Check it out below! Thank you to @adoptourcrew for sharing it with us!

Source: Adopt Our Crew Twitter

More Free Daily Doodle's from Rhys' Substack!

He's also got an exclusive video on his Paid substack with some BTS from the London premiere of That Christmas!

Source: Rhys' Substack

== Gizmo Darby ==

Source: Rosie's Instagram Stories

== Taika Waititi ==

Can you believe it? For the first time ever, a Disney film will feature an indigenous language and premiere alongside the English version! Congrats to all involved in Moana 2! The English and Maori version will premier on November 28th, 2024!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Taika Waititi (@taikawaititi)

Source: Taika's Instagram

Taika and Rita out with Rita's mom Vera in Kyoto!

Source: VeraOra's Instagram

== Samba Schutte ==

Samba's new show -- Jurassic World Chaos Theory is number 6 on Netflix! To celebrate he's been sharing some of the dad jokes, and Wolof language he got to voice for the show!

Annnnnd a little BTS for his audition for the part!

Source: Samba's Instagram

== Nathan Foad ==

Just Nathan out with some friends at the pub looking Cute <3

Source: Kennett Tanner's Instagram

== Ewen Bremner ==

It looks like Ewen's new show Cold Water was back in Easy Ayrshire for reshoots! Hopefully we'll get to see the new show soon!

Source: Ayreshire Today

== Kristian Nairn ==

Kristian's gonna be in Santa Fe New Mexico on October 31st at the Jean Cocteau Cinema! For tickets and more info, visit https://www.jeancocteaucinema.com!

Source: JeanCocteauCinema's Instagram

== Vico Ortiz ==

Did you miss out on the Drag Your King event with Vico! No worries! You can check it out on the Momentus Youtube!

Source: Momentus Youtube

Vico also has some more BTS pics/a short video up for OFMD S2 on their Patreon. I meant to post it last week and forgot! So here's some sneak previews! If you'd like to subscribe, please visit their Patreon!

Source: Vico's Patreon

== Anapela Polataivao ==

The official trailer for Tina is OUT! Auntie is the leading actress- and it'll be released in theatres on Feb 27, 2025 in Aotearoa!

Source: TinaTheFilm Instagram

== Guz Khan ==

More shots from Man From Mobeen!

Source: Guz Khan's Instagram

Also-- IDK how I missed it, but Guz is also going to be in 'That Christmas'! As Dasher!

Source: Guz' Instagram

== Data w/ Seven_Sugars! ==

Ashley, aka Seven_Sugars on Twitter was kind enough to run some stats on OFMD Fics being posted! Some very cool data here!

Source: Seven_sugars on Twitter / Bsky

= OFMD Rewind with Adopt Our Crew! =

It's time for the finale of the OFMD Rewind with @adoptourcrew! It starts at 2:30 PM PDT / 5:30PM EDT / 10:30PM BST/ 7:30 AM AEST (Friday)! Join them on Twitter! I know they joined bluesky too and in case you missed the invite here's their social!

Source: Adopt Our Crew Twitter

== Articles ==

Source: Adopt Our Crew Twitter

The Final Season of WWDITS premiered a few days back -- and there's some mention of OFMD in this article!

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Bluesky

== Asexual Awareness Week ==

I'm a bit late but Oct 20 - 26 is Asexual Awareness week! Just wanted to send some love out to all our Ace crewmates out there! We see you! We respect you! We love you! You don't have to explain anything to anyone-- you are not repressed, you're exactly the way you should be, and you are so incredibly Valid! Don't forget that lovelies!

Source: GLAAD Instagram

== Love Notes ==

Alright lovelies, I've been up a while, and I have to get back to some crazy work stuff tomorrow. So I'm going to let our dear @illustoryart and Auntie send you some love notes tonight. Get some rest, remember to drink your water, and as always, know we're so proud of you. <3

Source: Illustory Instagram

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

In honor of the WWDITS film's 10th Anniversary, and well cause it's spooky season-- have some Vianton! Gifs courtesy of the wonderufl @theshiningbeacon and @celluloidbroomcloset!

[uwukillmenowowo]

Part 2 of thr class 1a vs class 1b please!

I've had this in the very back of my inbox so WAUDBAKJWDBLAKWJBD

Hopefully I can get the requests done because DAMN- LOSING MY PREVIOUS DRAFTS WAS HEARTBREAKING-

.......... Gonna be honest- I had no clue what I was writing here.

COMPETITION Pt. 2

(Yandere BNHA X F!Reader!)

Chapter 1

Notes:

Reader/ [Y/n] will be female for the sake of ✨Cliche writing~!✨

[Y/n]'s quirk allows her to manipulate water Juvia Lockser style [I chose water because it goes well with a lot of the class's quirks]

[Y/n]'s personality is the classic "Naive, innocent, strawberry milk sweetheart"

I may have left out something but I forgot what it was... :(

I hope it's still good tho :)

Lately all your friends have been acting weird. They want to do stuff like hanging out with you more, have a spar, have a snack, study, stuff like that. At first you found it cute and spent time with whoever asked first... but now... things have become... rough.

{Your POV}

~~~~~

I hummed to myself as I continued to prepare dinner for me and my friends. Thankfully it was a Friday so we didn't have school tomorrow. "What'cha makin' there?" Tetsutetsu asked, standing beside me. "Oh- I thought I'd just make some chicken katsudon with curry." Tetsutetsu told me that it sounded good and asked if we could watch a movie too.

I agreed and told them that they could choose the movie and I heard them cheer. they also said that they were going to move some pillows to make a fort of blankets and pillows. 'How sweet.' I thought as my mind thought of me and my friends watching a movie with us all cuddled against each other for warmth.

{Third POV}

~~~~~

Meanwhile- in the ally where the others were, they were stuck in a stalemate. They kept moving around on the rooftops and allyways to not be seen by other civilians. But in return, they ended up in the ally right beside your house.

They couldn't really- fight because they know how much of a cautious/paranoid person you were. You would check outside just to check if it's a problem or if its a stray. how do they know this? Well duh- You're their obsession, of course they know everything about you.

"Truce..?" Monoma asked bitterly as he gazed towards your apartment and then to the others in 1-A.

Said students, (especially Bakugo) didn't like the idea. But considering that they were by your place. they agreed.

"Uraraka." Izuku whispered to the gravity user. She nodded before using her quirk to float her, Izuku, and Iida towards your door. Of course- the other 1-B students were a bit pissed but at the same time, what were they gonna do? If anything they knew that they might make fools of themselves.

'The girl is too energetic. The broccoli stammers too much and glasses is too strict. There's no way she'd prefer them over our class' Monoma thought and smirked. "Let's take out spots." Monoma told the others and started to go on his way to their "stalking spot"

{Your POV}

~~~~~

I chocked on my food as another jumpscare popped up. "why did you guys choose this movie!" I cried as I snuggled up against Shiozaki for comfort. She carefully wrapped an arm around my shoulder and nuzzled her cheek against mine. telling me that it'll be fine.

*Ding Dong*

"I'll get it." Kuroiro said and got up. the movie continued playing so I didn't see who was at the door. Until I heard the familiar sound of Iida loudly asking where I was and if it was even okay for the students from A-B to be here. I told Shiozaki that I'd be back in a bit and got up.

"Kuroiro?" I asked and stood by his side. There I saw three of my friends from 1-A. "Oh! Guys! What are you three doing here so late?" Izuku looked around nervously, Iida started speaking really fast so I didn't know what he was saying, and Uraraka just kept giving me a look of admiration.

"Well. how about you three come in. The others and I are just watching a movie." I pulled Kuroiro to the side to let in my friends.

It doesn't hurt right? The more the merrier!

Right?

Pt 3 or 4 might be the final one gang-

My brain just holds white noise and cobwebs

Like- My train of though we *Fwoop* and *Poof*

[tardis--dreams]

Nvm i reached them. They were really chill about it so my massive anxiety and guilt for having to cancel an appointment on the same morning have eased off

The car won't start and i cannot reach the doctor's office because obviously i cannot come with no trains running either so i'm having a great morning

[roosterforme]

A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Things finally boil over for Bradley. You don't understand the full extent of what you've done and how much you've hurt him until after a phone call and too much to drink.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing and smut

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my Masterlist!

"I hate to say it, but this is not the worst date we have been on together," Bradley told Jake, pouting as they sat down together in the movie theater.

"Hey, I had fun at hot sauce class. You were the one who was grouchy," Jake told him before shoving a fistful of popcorn into his mouth. "Now why couldn't Angel come tonight?"

"Work," Bradley muttered, popping a few Junior Mints into his mouth. "Busy with work."

He had felt a lot better today. Work was going well for him, and instead of feeling neglected, he forced himself to feel happy for you. It wasn't his accomplishment, but it was the next best thing. 

"She's been working a lot?" Jake asked cautiously. "Barely seen her around. Usually you can get her to eat lunch with us a few times a week."

"She's been working nonstop," he said quietly. "I miss seeing her at lunchtime, too."

Jake cleared his throat as the lights dimmed. "It's not another Josh kind of thing, is it?"

Bradley's jaw dropped. He hadn't even considered that. 

"No," Jake said quickly. "I'm sure it's nothing like that. She would have told you if there was a guy giving her a hard time."

Bradley swallowed against his fear. "I think she's just trying her best to be as successful as she can while she has a good commanding officer. She's kind of chasing that next promotion, you know? And this project deadline is coming up soon. Hopefully things get easier after that."

"And then you two lovebirds can plan your wedding," Jake said.

"Right," Bradley replied as the previews started. "Right."

--------------------------

You were holding up your champagne flute and smiling brightly. Your entire group was seated in the private room of a rooftop restaurant along the beach. Your belly was full of seafood and wine, and now the desserts were coming out. It had been weeks since you were eating on a real schedule, and you'd probably feel sick tomorrow, but you had as much as you wanted. 

Bradley would love it here. You would have to tell him about it and bring him one day. Maybe you could make some seafood for him this weekend as a treat. Maybe he could help you practice your presentation. You could make a game out of it again. 

You returned your attention to the toast and took a sip before taking a bite of chocolate cake. You were tired, and kind of ready to go home, but everybody else wanted to hit another spot for drinks, so you agreed to go.

And after three more drinks, you realized you were going to need to wait around for a while before you could drive home. It was late, and you didn't want to call Bradley for a ride. You knew he would come get you, but there was no sense in waking him up. And even if he was up, you didn't want to have to come retrieve your car before work tomorrow morning. 

This was fine. Tomorrow was Friday. You were way ahead of schedule with work now. You could spend a day with Bradley. You could catch up on some sleep. 

---------------------------------

Bradley was easily persuaded to join Jake at the Hard Deck. It was better than going home to a house without you in it. But it was Thursday, and there were no other aviators there. 

"This is weird, Hangman," Bradley said as they shot some pool. "We never come here on Thursdays."

"True," Jake said, lining up a nice shot. "But, I'm a little worried about you. Plus, it'll be easier for me to pick up a girl with your ugly mug next to me."

Bradley gave him a blank stare. 

"I'm kidding, Bradshaw. Clearly. You bagged yourself a dime. You couldn't be that ugly."

"Thanks," Bradley muttered, focusing on his next shot. 

"Now you gonna tell me what's wrong?"

Bradley looked at his former nemesis turned friend. He knew you and Jake were friends as well, so he felt a little weird talking to him about you. He preferred to do that with Nat for a number of reasons. But he couldn't help himself. He shook his head slightly. "She won't work on any wedding planning with me. I'm not even sure she wants to."

Jake frowned. "You tried talking to her?"

Bradley took a long drink of beer. "Yeah. Just blames everything on work. I'm sick of asking her about it." He set his empty down and shook his head. "I don't know what happened. Everything feels wrong now."

"Jesus, man. Let me get you another beer," Jake said before setting down his pool cue and ambling up to the bar. 

Bradley re-racked the balls and practiced breaking a few times while he waited. He didn't realize anyone was behind him until he heard a voice.

"Hey, you're really good."

He turned to see a cute girl. Bright eyes. Pretty smile. Probably in her late twenties. Exactly the kind of girl he would have tried to take home with him. 

Bradley glanced up at the bar and saw that Jake was in heavy conversation himself, so Bradley nodded and said, "Thanks."

She smiled and licked her lips, and Bradley's mind took him there. He thought about how easy it would be to hook up with her. He knew it would be. It could be a one time thing. Meaningless. Just the way he used to operate. You would never have to know about it. 

What the fuck was wrong with him? He was engaged to you, a walking, talking dream. How could his mind have possibly gone there? He was disgusting. 

"So, you wanna teach me how to play pool?" she asked, inching closer until her hand was resting on his chest. 

Bradley didn't respond. He couldn't even figure out how to breathe correctly. He didn't even fucking deserve you.

He shook his head. "No, sorry. I'm not interested," he said before moving away from her and heading for the door.

"Bradshaw! Where are you going?" Jake asked as Bradley walked past.

"Home."

-----------------------------

You tried to come in as quietly as you could, but Tramp still came running to the front door. It was so late. You were exhausted, but you also really wanted to take a shower. When you walked into your bedroom and found Bradley asleep, you decided to skip the shower and just curl up next to him. After you brushed your teeth and took your contacts out, you got undressed and just climbed right into bed.

You were dying for a good night of sleep. Tomorrow would be a long day, but then you'd have two in a row off. You pressed your naked body against Bradley's, and that was when you realized how much he reeked like liquor. 

How much had Jake let him drink? Did he drive home like this? 

"Bradley?" you whispered. "Are you okay, Roo?" you asked a little louder.

He groaned, "I'm going home."

You kissed his cheeks. "You are home, Roo. I just got home as well."

"Baby Girl," he mumbled, rolling over toward you. He smelled like he drank an entire bottle of bourbon, but at least he seemed to be okay. 

"Yeah, I'm here," you told him, letting him pull you against his body. You dozed off with his strong arms wrapped around you. 

Then you woke up to the sounds of him getting sick in the bathroom. You climbed out of bed just as the first rays or sunlight were filtering through the bedroom windows. 

"Are you okay?" you asked him as he sat in front of the toilet cradling his head.

He turned to face you, his brown eyes raking over your body. He looked terrible, but you could still see the longing on his face. "Yeah," he told you, his voice hoarse.

"Did you and Jake overdo it last night?" you asked, running your fingers gently through his hair. He seemed to melt into your touch.

"Something like that," he groaned, turning back toward the toilet to be sick again.

"Roo, how are you going to go to work like this?" you asked. He should know better. Maverick would ground him for the day in this condition.

"Very carefully," he told you with a grimace as he stood and washed his face. 

"Okay," you hesitantly agreed as you started to get yourself ready for work. "Want me to make you some coffee?"

"Sure."

You finished getting yourself ready and left some plain toast and black coffee on the counter for Bradley. 

"Do you need anything before I leave?" you asked softly. He was halfway dressed and sitting on the end of the bed. 

"No, Sweetheart. I'm fine." But he really, really didn't look fine. He looked miserable, sick, hungover and sad. 

"Listen," you told him. "It's Friday, and we have the whole weekend to ourselves. I'll probably work a little late tonight, but when I get home, I'll make dinner and we can relax. Sound good?"

He looked up at you and nodded. 

"Perfect. Bye, Roo," you told him, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. 

----------------------------

Bradley deserved to feel this shitty. After the thoughts in his mind last night, he honestly deserved much worse than this. He hated himself right now, and he didn't deserve you. Even on your worst day, you weren't as bad as he was. That's why he drank half a bottle of scotch when he got home from the Hard Deck. He just wanted those thoughts out of his mind. 

But damn it, he also wanted some sort of reassurance from you. Every time he asked for you to plan even the smallest wedding detail, you shut him down. And he didn't want to push you too hard right now, because he knew you were busy. You had Annapolis coming up. This was all very important to you. 

He wanted to feel like he was important to you too, though. 

He scrambled through work, thankful it was only a classroom day. When Jake tried to ask him why he left the bar so suddenly, Bradley didn't know what to say. 

"Was it that pretty little thing talking to you?" Jake asked, and Bradley's eyes snapped up to his. "You could have tossed her my way, you know. Instead of running out like your ass was on fire."

"I told her I wasn't interested. Nothing happened."

Jake rolled his eyes. "Obviously nothing happened. Look, Angel's not gonna care that some little airhead touched you, Bradshaw."

"Right," he agreed. "She wouldn't care about that."

But that's not what had Bradley rattled. He was starting to question too many things. He needed to get himself home and wait for you. He would demand your attention. 

So when he got there, he sat on the couch with Tramp, but then he decided to just finish the rest of the bottle of scotch to help him relax a little bit. When Jake texted asking if it was okay to come over and workout in the garage, Bradley responded and told him that was fine. 

He sipped more of the scotch and ate a bag of the disgusting, unsalted pretzels you liked. He finished the bottle around seven o'clock and was just about to pass out on the couch when he remembered that he had hung up the dirty calendar you gave him in the garage next to his weight bench.

"Shit," he hissed, rolling off the couch and making his way out to the garage. He could already hear Jake's music playing, and then he noticed his car in the driveway. Bradley was having a really difficult time walking, but he did manage to get inside the garage.

"Bradshaw," Jake said in greeting as he did some bicep curls. 

Bradley shook his head and unclipped the calendar from the wall. "Don't look at her."

Jake snorted. "Yeah, it's a little late for that, man. Angel looks good in red though. And if I haven't already told you before, you are one lucky asshole."

Bradley ran his hand through his hair and turned back toward the house.

"Are you okay? Wait, are you drunk?" Jake asked, hopping up from the bench and following Bradley. "Whoa. What the fuck is going on?"

Bradley tried to stand still, but his head was spinning. "I don't know."

"Let's go inside," Jake suggested softly, guiding Bradley back into the house and helping him sit on the couch. 

Bradley watched him bring in a glass of water and some crackers. "Eat and drink some water. I'm going to call Angel."

"No... don't bother her at work. She's busy." Bradley closed his eyes to keep the room from spinning. 

But he could already hear Jake talking on the phone. 

---------------------------

"Hey, Jake, I'm a little busy," you said when you answered your phone. "What do you need?"

He was silent for a beat, and your heart started pounding. 

"Angel, I think you should come home right now."

"What happened? Where's Bradley?" you asked, tossing your computer into your bag and heading for your office door.

"Can you just come home?"

Now you were scared as you rushed out of your building. What happened to Bradley? And why was Jake at your house? When you finally pulled into your driveway, you saw Jake's car. And when you rushed inside, he was there talking to Bradley.

"What happened?" you asked, out of breath. 

"Sweetheart," Bradley groaned from the couch. He was clutching the calendar you gave him to his chest. You watched his eyes slide in and out of focus as he looked at you, reaching for you as he tried in vain to stand up. Sinking back to the couch with a deep sigh, his eyes drifted closed.

"He's drunk again?" you asked Jake. "Why did you let him get trashed again? He was a mess last night and this morning!"

"What are you talking about?" Jake asked. "He only had one beer with me last night. Ran away when some cute girl started flirting with him. Didn't even stay for a second drink. And he was already like this when I got here an hour or so ago."

You let Jake's words sink in as you tried to puzzle through this mess. Bradley must have gotten drunk here last night. He must have been trying to do it again tonight when Jake found him. 

"You came over to use the garage?" you asked, eyeing up his gym clothes.

"Yeah. Rooster came stumbling in and took down all the scenery," Jake said, pointing at Bradley. Well, at least the calendar's presence made sense now. "Red is definitely your color."

"Shut up," you told him, making your way over to Bradley. "Are you okay, Roo?" 

He cracked his eyes open and nodded. You pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed his cheek. "I'm going to walk Jake out. I'll be right back." Bradley whimpered in response and nodded his head as you stroked your fingers along his flushed cheeks.

Jake took you firmly by the hand, and you followed him out onto the porch. 

"Listen, Angel. I don't mean to pry, but why are you putting him through the wringer like this?"

You gasped. "What?"

Jake ruffled your hair before you could duck out of the way. "He's crazy about marrying you. Just tell him you're looking at dresses or you picked out some exotic flowers or you know what flavor cake you want. Give him a little hope. It'll go a long way." 

He was already walking to his car when you let your shoulders slump. "No," you whispered as you rushed back inside.

Now Bradley was up and walking around, still holding the calendar. 

"Roo, why don't you sit down and I'll get you something to eat?"

"Not hungry," he told you, pacing over toward the piano.

"Okay, well how about we sit on the couch together?"

His eyes went a little wide. "You'll let me touch you?"

You nodded your head and took him by the hand, but you were starting to feel like shit. "Yeah, you can touch me."

You guided him to sit down, and then you started to unlace your boots. His unsteady eyes followed your every move as you took them off and set them near the front door. When you sat next to him, he curled up with his head in your lap, running his hands along your uniform pants. He kissed your legs through the fabric before letting his cheek rest on your thigh. 

"You look really nice in khaki," he told you, his voice deep and raspy.

"So you've told me. I've also heard I look nice in red," you said, raking your fingers through his hair.

"Fucking Hangman shouldn't have been looking at that," Bradley muttered, nuzzling the back of his head against your belly. You were just thankful the photo with your bare breast wasn't the one on display in the garage. 

You took a deep breath. "You gonna tell me what's wrong, Roo?"

Bradley sighed. "I wish you still wanted to marry me," he told you, and you felt like someone had kicked you in the stomach.

"Bradley. I do," you promised him as tears stung your eyes. But he was wrapping his arm around your leg and starting to doze off.

Okay, so you had made a mess of things. Even Phoenix and Jake could tell what was going on, but you were so absorbed in your own work projects, you had been oblivious. And now Bradley was drunk, again, and you couldn't even put his mind at ease. 

You let him sleep, running your fingers along his cheek and looking down at his beautiful face while you cried. You had to fix this. And you needed to do it this weekend. You had one more week here before you left for Annapolis, and you needed Bradley to know you wanted to marry him. You wanted to do everything with him. 

When he started to stir a little bit, you helped him stand and walked him to the bedroom. "Let's get you undressed," you told him softly, peeling his shirt and jeans off. He just did whatever you said, so you sent him into the bathroom to brush his teeth while you got him a fresh glass of water and something for the headache he was going to have in the morning. 

You were waiting for him next to the bed, and when he climbed in, he said, "She wanted me to teach her how to play pool, Sweetheart."

"Who?" you asked, handing him the water. 

He shrugged and shook his head before he snuggled back against the pillow. "I dunno. It was a girl."

You kissed his forehead and started to get undressed from your uniform. Bradley got hit on all the time at the Hard Deck. If there was something you should be worried about, Jake would have told you. 

You climbed in bed with him until he was definitely asleep. But it was still pretty early, and you had been neglecting more than just Bradley. So you slipped out of bed and gathered up all the laundry. Then you cleaned the kitchen and pulled out ingredients to make a nice lunch tomorrow. Then you cleaned the entire house before you got your phone out to text Jake. 

You scrolled through your calendar, and your eyes caught on what was listed in your schedule for Monday. You'd take the day off. You would use some of your vacation time and spend the day at home. Everyone would just have to get over it. 

And then you started to look at wedding dresses. Because you wanted to. You also knew you wanted that weird confetti cake batter as your wedding cake. Bradley always complained it was too sweet, but you would insist upon it to the point where he would concede and smile and kind of grunt at you. 

You emailed three dresses to your mom and Maria, and then you took a quick shower before climbing into bed. When you were both awake, you and Bradley would have a calm, rational conversation about what was going on.

------------------------------

Bradley woke up with a pounding head. And he was pissed off. He was fucking angry about everything. He was mad that Jake saw his calendar. He was mad that you came home and took care of him. He was mad that the house was cleaned up. He was mad that he was throwing up again. God, now his ribs were aching, and he was laying on the bathroom floor. 

He wasn't a fuck up. Not entirely. He hadn't let the house get too bad while you'd been busy working. He'd managed to feed himself. He hadn't chatted up that girl at the bar. In fact, he'd come home on Thursday night and jerked off while thinking about you. 

God damn it, he would be a fucking great husband, and he knew it. He remembered all the dumb shit so you didn't have to. Like when to pay the bills, when to buy dog food, when to change the oil in your piece of shit car. He even remembered to change the batteries in the smoke detectors.

He let Tramp lick his ear while he rolled over to stand up so he could wash his face and brush his teeth. Then he sat on the floor in front of the sink, and the pup climbed into his lap. He scratched him behind the ears and tried to calm down, because he was fucking mad at you, too. 

There was no way he was going to beg you for your affection, but he would demand your attention today if he had to. He wanted a real reason why you didn't want to plan a wedding. You'd been engaged for two months already, and you couldn't even tell Bradley one single detail you wanted. And if you didn't want to get married, he deserved to hear you tell him why not. 

"Roo," you said softly from the bathroom doorway. He looked up at you, wearing one of his Top Gun tee shirts, and he wanted to bend you over and fuck you. He also wanted to yell at you until he felt better. So instead of doing either of those things, he just sat on the floor and stared at you. 

"I'm sorry," you whispered. 

He cleared his throat. "What are you sorry for?"

He watched you swallow hard and swipe your fingers across the tip of your nose. You were going to cry. He could already tell. But Bradley refused to get up and comfort you. 

"I made a mess," you told him, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. "I've been working a lot and neglecting too many things."

"What things?" he pressed, tired of dealing with this shit. Tired of trying to pry information out of you when most of the time you weren't even home. "And I swear to God, if you tell me we can't have a conversation right now because you need to go to work, I am going to lose my mind." 

Tears started to stream down your face, and the sight actually made him feel a little better. "You! I've been neglecting you! And myself! Us!" You were sucking in air as you tried to talk. 

Bradley nodded and watched you grab the door frame. "Yeah," he agreed, making you cry harder. 

"I'm sorry! I just wanted to get through this work project, because it's important to me. I told you before we even started dating that work is important to me. You know how much I love what I'm working on now. And women don't get promoted as quickly as men."

Bradley nodded his head slowly. "Yeah, I understand that. And I know it's important to you, and I know promotions aren't always fair. I guess I just got used to being on your list of important things."

You swiped the tears away from your cheeks and took a step toward him. "You are on my list, Bradley! You're at the top. And I'm sorry we aren't having sex as much as you want, but how do you think I feel when you're deployed for weeks or months?"

"No," he said, setting Tramp down and standing up. "That's not fair. I can jerk off when I need to. That's not the problem. And I don't need you to give me pity blowjobs to get me off your back. It's not about that, and you know it." 

"Pity blowjobs?" you asked, still inching closer.

Bradley ran his hands over his face, suddenly wishing he was wearing more than just his underwear as your gaze dipped downward. "I've had to practically beg you to let me touch you for the past three weeks. And every time I try to be with you physically, you turn me down."

"Bradley." Your voice sounded pitiful, and your face was all red and splotchy now. "I'm sorry."

He took a step in your direction but raised his voice. "Why don't you want to plan a wedding with me?"

"I.... do.... I want to."

Bradley threw his hands in the air. "I can't plan this without you! I don't even know what you want to do, because you won't tell me anything! Two months of asking, and I have no information from you! And you haven't asked me what I want to do. Not once."

"Roo," you whispered, your lips quivering. 

"We can wait and get married next year if you want to. We can get married tomorrow. For all I fucking care, we can get married in Spain or New Zealand or Maryland or our back fucking yard! I don't care! I just want to know what you want! I'm begging you!" He realized he was yelling, but he couldn't stop now. "Do you even want to marry me at all?"

"Yes!" you yelled back. "Yes, Bradley, I want to marry you! I want confetti cake! And I want to wear your mom's veil, because it's prettier than anything you can buy today! I already emailed three wedding dresses to my mom! And I don't want to look at the venue in Laguna Beach, because it looks too fancy in an annoying way!" 

Bradley's heart was pounding. His head still ached, and he still felt nauseous, but your shouted words and scratchy voice were soaking through his skin and making him feel better than he had in weeks. He watched you clench and unclench your fists as you took deep breaths. "Well, fuck! Baby Girl, why didn't you tell me any of this before?" 

"Because I feel overwhelmed!" you told him, your voice echoing around the bathroom. "If I can't keep it together now, how is this going to work later?" Your voice softened to a whisper. "I'm scared I won't be enough for you."

Bradley's eyes went wide. "Baby Girl, you're everything," he promised, rushing forward to grab you. He pulled you against his body and mashed his lips against yours before gently letting his fingers ease up along your body until he was holding your face in both hands. "Everything."

You kissed him back, whispering his name, and his entire body was aching. "Roo." Your voice was questioning, pleading with him to understand.

He scooped you into his arms and devoured your mouth, relentless until you were gasping. Then he eased himself to his knees and set you gently on the floor, the back of your head coming to rest on the tub mat. You pulled him down by his hair, and he whispered against your neck, "You're more than enough. You always will be."

You moaned as he pressed his body weight on top of yours and ran his rough palms up along your thighs and over your bare ass and pussy. Bradley kissed your face, your cheeks still pink and damp and cool from your tears. Your tears gave him relief this time; he felt so thankful that you shed them. 

Your voice was nothing but a broken whisper as you told him, "I need you."

He kissed your lips, holding your chin with one hand. "I need you, too," he promised. "I always will. Please don't forget that." Bradley eased your thighs apart, settling himself against your core. You rocked against him, your fingers gripping his hair tight and keeping his mouth on yours. 

"Please, please," you were gasping against his lips, your teeth grazing his mustache as you pleaded. He loved the way you were needy for him, but he needed you just as much right now. 

Wordlessly, he reached between your bodies and stroked your clit softly one time. 

"Oh!" you whined, your head automatically tipping back, and he licked a stripe slowly up your perfect neck. He stroked your pussy softly, barely giving you the pressure you needed, which had you writhing. "I love you," you told him, rubbing yourself up against his hand. You were so soaked, he could feel you through his underwear when you rubbed yourself there. "Bradley."

He was instantly yanking down the elastic and pulling himself free. He filled you in one stroke. It felt like ages since he'd been inside you. He hated the way it felt like he'd been sharing the house with you, but you had been just out of his grasp. He hated how he felt like he wasn't a priority. 

When you licked your lips, and met his eyes, Bradley started to thrust, slowly at first. A soft smile touched your slips, and then with one sharp movement of his hips, you were whining again. He pinned you down with one hand on your hip and teased up the front of your shirt with the other. 

He took your soft breast in his hand, gently working his thumb along your taut nipple while he fucked you with hard, short thrusts. He watched your back slowly arch off the floor as he hit just the right spot, and you pressed your lips together stifling your sounds. 

"Be as loud as you want, Sweetheart. I'm gonna make you cum on my cock."

"Fuck," you whined. "I'm so close," you cried, shaking your head against the mat. Bradley could feel your right leg shaking against him. The keening noises coming from you had him on the edge too. 

He leaned over you, getting some pressure against your clit as he squeezed your breast. You spasmed around him, crying out and gasping for air. And he spilled himself inside you, jerking into you until he couldn't move. 

Your hands and lips were all over his face, and as he let himself rest against your shoulder, you wrapped your arms around him. "I'll be better, okay? I promise you, Roo, I will do better."

"Okay, Baby Girl."

A few hours later, you were still wearing just his Top Gun shirt and sitting on his lap at the dining room table. You were sharing a plate of Marry Me Rooster while a confetti cake from a boxed mix baked in the oven. 

"Please, Roo? Confetti cake for the wedding?" you asked, giving him your best puppy dog eyes, which weren't even as good as the ones he frequently gave you.

"It's too sweet, but I'll think about it," he replied. But you both knew you would get whatever you wanted. 

---------------------------------

Let's hope they can stay on the same page and plan a wedding that will make them both happy.

PART 4

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[love-in-the-time]

I Get to Keep You: Fourteen/Donna, M for all kinds of things

Title: I Get to Keep You Author: love-in-the-time Rating: M for language, sex, violence, etc. Summary: Donna has a specialized task that no one else is truly capable of accomplishing, since it requires the willing participation of the Doctor. Fourteen/Donna DOMESTIC BLISS.

UNIT hires Donna in the days following the Toymaker's disappearance, signing a contract for a hundred-fifty thousand pounds a year, five weeks vacation, and an annual bonus. She can relax, finally, about money. It's part of why she is so excited to help the Doctor pick a house; he decides on the French countryside, to Donna's delight and enchantment.

Kate Stewart explained that if the Doctor was going to live on earth permanently, it would be safer for all involved if it was as unobtrusive as possible. A French garden with a bit of land around it would be an ideal place for a blue box that would blend gently into its surroundings. She also explains that UNIT has indeed been paying the Doctor for the past seventy years, and he has an Earth bank account with several million pounds in it, just waiting for his use.

So he chooses a pretty country house outside of Montresor, in the Indrois Valley, and buys it outright. It's surrounded by lush green land, with an enormous enclosed garden. There are many more bedrooms than he needs, and the floors are all polished wood, with high windows and charming details everywhere. Donna moves through the house with the same excitement as the TARDIS, exclaiming over the views and the crown moldings and the polished wood floors and the stained glass. UNIT provides him with furniture and a car, all official and licensed, so that he is within easy reach of the agency should it be needed. Rose is enrolled in an international school, where she is boarded with the children of UNIT employees from all over the world, and thrives in the specialized environment of the school. Location undisclosed, of course, to all except the families.

The Doctor, upon closing the contract to the house with Donna next to him, proceeds to hand her a key immediately. "This is your home too, for the rest of your life, just like the TARDIS," he tells her. "Thank you for coming to help me pick it out."

Donna just smiles. "Welcome home, Spaceman," she says.

"Promise me you'll stay here," the Doctor says. "And bring your family with you."

"As often as I can," Donna says.

"And you can come by yourself too," the Doctor says hopefully, half a question. "Just to hang out? I'll take you by TARDIS, of course."

Donna looks over the lovely house and says, "It'll be my joy."

On a Friday in late August, when the Doctor has been settled into the new house for a few months and Donna has spent the last few days with him planting a garden, she is called for a meeting at UNIT headquarters in Paris, which by train would have taken hours from either London or Montresor. But since the Doctor is Scientific Advisor Number One to UNIT and is naturally also invited to the meeting, he of course takes her by TARDIS. "Exclusive transport," he tells her, grinning. "Go man your station."

Still not quite able to believe what her life has become, Donna circles the TARDIS console with a smile on her face. She knows what to do, she can hear the TARDIS hum under her hands, and within a minute she meets the Doctor at the middle of the console, the central line wheezing away as always.

She smiles at him for a moment, and he says, "God, I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you," Donna says. "I can hardly even absorb what's happening."

"Well you'd have to know that UNIT would be interested in you," the Doctor says. "And very interested, too, if that contract is any indication."

"Did you read it?" Donna asks, surprised.

"I helped write it," the Doctor says. "You don't know everything, Donna Noble."

"Is that how I got a hundred fifty instead of a hundred twenty?" Donna asks.

"Oh, I told them a million," the Doctor shrugs. "They wouldn't go for it, of course, but they know who you are. You're needed. You're good. You're fast. You can do anything, and you can help."

Donna nods. "I can help," she says. "That's all I ever wanted to do." She looks down at herself. "What d'you think, am I professional enough for it?" She's wearing an elegant slim navy suit with a soft white blouse.

"You're beautiful," is all the Doctor says. With its new Arrival Alert System in place, the TARDIS gives a bright ding as they land inside a UNIT garage. They are met by escorts who bring them to the conference room where the French delegation is assembled. They are greeted enthusiastically by everyone, and Donna is bemused to find herself in the middle of a true agency meeting, in a clean and minimalist blue-and-white conference room. But she has her credentials clipped to her jacket, and so does everyone else, even the Doctor, still wearing his brown-and-blue checked suit. Everyone is provided with standard issue tablets and there is a screen for everyone to consult on the wall.

They undergo an extensive briefing concerning the most recent events in Europe, and an American consultant joins them via the big screen to discuss international issues. At the conclusion of that, the agents file out in orderly line, leaving Donna and the Doctor with the commanding officer, Major Paulette Marnier.

"We've been informed by Brigadier Stewart in London that you're being directly trained by the Doctor," the major says. "That's better than anything we could offer you anyway, so your protocol has been adjusted and you're free to take your training aboard the TARDIS." She looks down at her tablet. "The next order is the record of Miss Noble as the other TARDIS traveler on our books. She needs to be appointed as a licensed TARDIS pilot. It's quite a sophisticated piece of machinery."

"I'll sign off on that," the Doctor says. He's beaming.

"Right," Paulette says. "I'll need to see Miss Noble alone in my office for a moment, so we are adjourned."

Donna looks to the Doctor, who rises alongside her from the table. "I'll wait for you," he says. "That's what I do now."

The major watches the two of them smile at each other as if there is no one else in the room. She thinks this woman must be extraordinary indeed if the Doctor is attached to her in this way.

Inside the lovely, wood-furnished office of the major, Donna seats herself across from the older woman. "First of all, welcome," Paulette says. "You can't imagine how pleased we are to have you join us."

"I can hardly believe it myself," Donna says. "Thank you. It's been an amazing change."

"I'm consulting with you in private regarding the Doctor," Paulette says. "We've never had him in permanent residence on Earth before, and regardless of his provenance, we are committed to the safety and security of your family since he has decided to live with you." She folds her hands. "For all intents and purposes you are our liaison to him, and in the interest of security we ask that you remain in that position for as long as you are able, even when you retire from UNIT."

"I don't know if he'll stay with me forever," Donna says.

"Oh, I think we can be pretty confident he will be around for a long time," Paulette says, with certainty that is both professional and personal.

Donna doesn't say anything in response, but her expression speaks for her. The mix of hope, fear, and joy on her face is vulnerable. She clears her throat. "Anyway," she says. "Yes, I will serve as permanent UNIT liaison to the Doctor."

"You have a specialized task," Paulette continues. "And a completely unique one, since it requires his willing participation. You're the one who will give this Doctor a reason to retire. Who will ensure that this Doctor, in order to ensure the safety of all other Doctors, will retain his peace of mind. A French countryside garden with a meadow and a view of the river is an ideal place for that, wouldn't you say? But even more important, Donna, is that the said French garden contains you. As often as possible."

"I think that won't be a problem," Donna says, her voice a little threadbare from self control. She's wanted to cry from relief a million times since he's been back and neither of them have had the chance.

"It means that you will receive information about things UNIT doesn't know," Paulette continues. "This information is released at your discretion, of course, we make no presumptions on your personal interactions with the Doctor. You are his closest contact and as such you retain specific rights."

"What does that mean?" Donna says. "That I have no privacy concerning him if necessary?"

"Quite the opposite," Paulette says. "Rather that all of your interactions are privileged, no matter personal or professional. You aren't property of UNIT, you are our most valuable consultant."

Donna has never had power in her life, and now she is humbled by the idea that UNIT seeks to protect and privilege her life with the Doctor, essentially turning their relationship into a state secret. The ultimate safety in history, she thinks. Only they two will know the truth. Even her family will have no access.

It's a terribly lonely idea, she thinks, and only not lonely because she will share it, as she has shared her mind, with the Doctor. The momentousness of the idea is a little overwhelming.

Even in her personal life she hasn't quite come to terms with the fact that she will never actually be without the Doctor again. Sometimes she lies awake at night in her room in France, looking out the window at the blue box parked in his garden, in a corner bursting with flowers and a sturdy old tree whose branches gave shade. It's like walking into Eden when she goes to the TARDIS, a feeling that she hasn't assimilated yet.

"I can agree to that," she says.

"Good," Paulette says. "It's a heavy task, but I have to emphasize the necessity of it. Your discretion is paramount in order to maintain the safety of yourself, the Doctor, and your family. It will be a contingency for your job that you maintain your silence. Any leaks are dangerous for all."

Donna nods. "I understand," she says.

"It's pretty standard for UNIT," The major says. "Well, thank you, it's been a very exciting day for us. We'll be in touch for your next in-person report, and meanwhile you and the Doctor can operate from aboard the TARDIS at your discretion." She stands up with Donna, and gives her a salute. "Good luck. Look after him."

Donna finds the Doctor sitting patiently in the vestibule of the building, reading a book he'd probably had stashed in the dimensional pocket of his coat, a suspicion confirmed to Donna when he sees her and drops it right back into his inner pocket. "We're off," Donna says cheerfully to him, and he offers her his arm. The same escort comes to bring them back to the garage to the TARDIS.

"What d'you fancy?" the Doctor asks. "Lunch in Paris? Say... seventeenth century? We're here anyway."

"Lunch in Paris sounds glorious," Donna says. "Today. Here. Now."

So the Doctor parks the TARDIS on the Rue de Richelieu, where they have an exquisite lunch at Juveniles, one of Paris's best restaurants. It's small, charming, and private. They drink wine and eat duck and steak. They talk quietly and intimately between them, since they can't discuss work, and render each other helpless with laughter over their food. At the end of it the Doctor pulls out a magnetic strip card Donna recognizes. "Oh, the intergalactic bank card," she says to him. "I remember that."

"Unlimited funds," the Doctor shrugs. "Money is a stupid concept."

On the streets of Paris, Donna takes his arm again and says, "You're going to have to wear something besides that suit, you know. People will think you're mad. Or dirty."

"I am one of those, but not the other," the Doctor says contentedly. "But fair point."

"You know I don't care what you wear at home, but for going out in public you can't be in the same thing all the time. It makes you recognizable. We're trying to avoid you being 'that skinny bloke who's always in the same suit,' you know."

"Are there any boutiques you prefer?" the Doctor asks her teasingly. "Anywhere I should go and get my suits?"

"Have you ever thought about ordinary clothes? Like a pair of jeans? You can keep those ratty trainers. Maybe a band t-shirt?"

"A what?"

"You know. A t-shirt. With The Pogues on or something."

"You mean like that Scooby Doo shirt you have?"

Donna laughs. "Yeah," she says. "Like that. Ordinary. Normal."

"Normal's a stupid word," the Doctor says. "Wanna walk along the Right Bank?" He gestures. "The Seine is right there."

"What is it with you and rivers?" Donna asks. Then she grins. "Oh. River Song, of course."

The Doctor smiles. "The Thames, the Loire, the Seine, they're all one to me now as long as you're there."

They sit at a small café on the Right Bank for hours, in comfortable silences interspersed with laughter and conversation. When the sun starts to set, Donna puts her coffee cup down and sighs. "You know we'd better go back," she says.

"All right." The Doctor gets up and offers her his hand instead of his arm this time. Donna looks from his hand to his face and they walk away hand-in-hand along the bank.

Inside the TARDIS they move quietly alongside the console, piloting the ship into stable flight. Donna sighs and steps back, leaning against the railing. She looks contemplatively at the Doctor, who catches her eye when he looks up. "What?" he asks gently.

"Nothing," Donna says. "Just... filling my mind up with the idea that you're here to stay for a while."

He comes to her to hug her close, wrapping her up the way he always used to do. Donna sighs again, burrowing into his embrace and clutching him the way she wants to. "D'you have to be married, Donna?" the Doctor murmurs into her hair.

There's a little silence. Donna wraps her arms more tightly around him. "I wouldn't have if I hadn't lost you."

"Are you happy?"

Another little silence. "I thought we were, living the ordinary way we did. But I always knew I wasn't doing enough. I always knew I was missing something," Donna says.

"Do you love him?"

"In my way," Donna says. "He was there for me when I forgot. He was kind to me and he's been wonderful to me. He accepted me as I am. As I was. I can't speak for now until I see how this new life affects us." She unravels herself from his embrace to look up at him. Again, her face is vulnerable. "These are circumstances all beyond our control, right?"

"I s'pose some of them are," the Doctor says.

"What about Rose?"

"She is your beautiful daughter, and anything that is part of you is something and someone I love beyond measure," the Doctor says.

"But not Shaun?"

The Doctor smiles. "He's not part of you."

"You called him your brother-in-law," Donna says, exasperated but smiling.

"And so he is, as long as he's married to you. Just a useful human label to characterize," the Doctor shrugs. "So! Are you allowed to tell me what the Major briefed you about?"

"Er," Donna says. "She made our relationship a matter of national security. Everything we say and do together is entirely privileged, and UNIT has no access to anything except what we choose to tell them. Nor anyone else without a security clearance."

"That means your family," the Doctor says. He gives her a little compassionate look and says, "That could be lonely, Donna."

"Not with you around," Donna says firmly. "That's my compensation, even more than the money. So you don't go anywhere, or it all means nothing."

The Doctor starts to smile, then, big and delighted. "So now everything between us is only between us by international and intergalactic statute," he says. "That sounds like a lot of fun, Donna Noble. We can do anything, remember?"

"It sounds monumental," Donna says. "It sounds like infinite possibility, even more than it did the first time around."

"You all right with it?" the Doctor asks.

"Yeah," Donna says. "Yeah. I am. It's right."

"Good!" says the Doctor brightly, to disguise his emotions. "Let's go home, eh?"

"Yes, please," Donna says.

So when they land in his garden once more, the little ding signal chiming their arrival, Donna settles back against the railing. "Aren't you going to go back in the house?" the Doctor asks, his eyebrows raising.

Donna shakes her head, smiling a little. "Not yet," she says. "I'm going to my room for a minute. I have some things I want to get."

In an instinctive gesture, he follows her down the hallway to the first door on the right, where the TARDIS always puts the door to where its inhabitants want to go.

Donna's room has been stored in the TARDIS memory banks since Donna left, and has been preserved in the state it was ever since, down to the page in the book Donna was reading on her bed. She opens the door into what was her sanctuary, a room where she had everything she could imagine, everything she wanted, everything she needed, and best of all, the Doctor to make her laugh.

"Remember?" Donna asks, and the Doctor nods wordlessly, as if he could speak around the lump in his throat.

"We slept in that bed a lot," Donna says, pointing to her giant, purple-covered bed with the plethora of pillows and huge plush blankets.

"Yeah," he says. "We did. Best sleep of my life."

"You need more of it," Donna says.

"Maybe I'll get more of it now that you're around," the Doctor replies, and Donna huffs a little laugh.

"Anyway, it's an intergalactic secret whether I sleep or not," the Doctor adds.

"Well, what you need is plenty of good food, and lots of sleep," Donna says.

"And joy, and laughter," the Doctor says. "And you."

"I've got all those things," Donna says, putting her hands on her hips. "I just want to grab a few things from here for the house."

In a few minutes she comes out with her clothes changed into comfortable leggings and a sweater. She has an armful of things, including her giant purple blanket to give to Rose for her bed. She has a box full of jewelry and clothing, and a set of Shakespeare editions she'd hidden away because they were seventeenth-century prints, beautifully and expensively bound. "Just some treasures," she tells the Doctor, who smiles at her proudly. "The rest of it can stay here."

She carries them herself to the TARDIS doors and leaves them just inside so she'll remember to take them with her when she goes back to London. "Meanwhile," she says. "What d'you say, should we crack a bottle and sit in the library?"

"Oh, you know I always loved doing that," the Doctor says.

"Me too," Donna says. "Something about being surrounded by books. Comforting. Like sitting in your imagination."

Inside the TARDIS library, somewhere between a medieval archive, a university library, and a cathedral, Donna sits down in the same spot in front of the enormous fireplace (merrily lit as usual) that she always used to, on the red Persian rug that was always soft and comfortable. A moment later the Doctor joins her with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

"You should think about picking an Earth name," Donna says. "People will want to know even if they call you Doctor."

The Doctor shrugs. "Whatever," he says, filling the glasses and handing her one. "I'll pick something serviceable. It'll take me a while to answer to it anyway." He gives her a sideways smile. "I always liked the way you said 'Doctor' anyway."

Donna clinks her glass with him. "To knowing who you are."

"Hear, hear," he says feelingly, and they both take a good deep drink. Donna grimaces and puts her glass down.

"Did you ever in your life?" she asks next, turning herself to face him.

"What?" He does the same so that they are facing each other, sitting cross legged.

"Did you ever, ever think we'd be here again?" Donna asks, and suddenly, unexpectedly she is crying. She surprises herself and the Doctor with the force of her sobs, burying her face in her hands so that she doesn't make noise.

"Oh, god, Donna--" the Doctor says, leaping forward immediately to embrace her. "God, it's all right, I'm here."

Her arms go around him tightly, a feeling he'd been crying out for since the last time she hugged him, and she buries her face in his shoulder. He lets her cry until his shirt is soaked and she is collapsed against him. She never lets go of him, and he draws his hands in long, comforting caresses up and down the length of her back. "Where have you been?" she asks him, her voice thick with tears. "Where did you go, why did you leave me? I was dying without you."

"I died without you," he says back. "And that's why I'm going to live with you now." He holds her against him so that she knows he means it. "And I am so sorry that you were lonely without me. I'm sorry that your hands were ever empty. I'm sorry that you cried. It was my fault for not listening to you, but I couldn't have lived with myself if you'd died back then."

Donna shivers. "I've died twice now," she says.

"But now you live," the Doctor says, kissing her hair. "Now you live with me."

"I've never been so happy in my life," Donna says, echoing him from days before in their garden, eating dinner with everyone around. That makes the tears flow from his eyes, so that Donna wraps him up again and presses her lips to his cheek.

"You can stay," she tells him. "I need you to stay."

They stay in that embrace for a long time. Finally Donna pulls back and moves back onto the floor. "Sorry," she says. "I've wrecked your shirt."

"Don't you dare apologize to me," he says immediately. "I have lived much too long without you to waste our time with that nonsense."

Donna reaches for her glass of whiskey and drinks deep before she speaks again. "I suspect that's going to happen a few more times before I really feel like I've processed it," she says.

"That's okay," the Doctor says. Then he reaches for her hand. "I don't want to make you cry."

"Way too late for that," Donna says. She watches him kiss her hand again, the same way he had so unhesitatingly done on the ship, and feels a few fresh tears roll down her face. "It's all right." She gestures to his glass. "Drink up," she says. "And then you're going to tell me whatever I ask about. The truth." She holds his gaze. "The truth. Even if it's ugly and horrible. Even if you think it makes you look bad." She sees the way he drains the whiskey at that. "And then another day you're going to tell me about everyone who flew on this ship with you." She picks up the bottle and refills both their glasses. "We're going to get that pain out of you one way or another. A million years my arse."

"There's going to be a lot of crying," the Doctor says. "And I've only just got you back."

"Maybe we have got a lot of grief to work through," Donna says. "Maybe you will have to stop being a crazy Martian for long enough that we can take care of each other. Maybe I am the safest person in the universe to tell your secrets to."

There is a little silence then, when the Doctor works furiously to keep his eyes from overflowing again. "Why do you still want to be my friend?" he asks her.

"Why do you want to be mine?" Donna shoots back immediately.

"Because I love you."

"It's the same for me," Donna says. "Fuck you, Spaceman, you're going to make me cry again," she adds, with a slap to his arm that has no force behind it.

"I watched you die," the Doctor says. "I held you while you died. I've only just got you back and I--" He stops to swallow hard. "I still can't understand, but I am so, so grateful to you."

"I understand," Donna says. "I told you." She breathes deeply. "I'm not going to cry again," she says. "I'm not. I swear." She has to stop, which belies her words. "I shared your mind. You and I were one. I've never had that experience before and I never will again. But we were us. There was no line between you and I, however long or short the time was. I can't go back to living the half-a-life I had without you." A thousand yard stare blooms in her eyes that makes the Doctor feel so desolate. "I stared into an abyss for a while," Donna says finally. Then she seems to gather herself. "And now I don't have to anymore," she says. "So I just have to adjust to that."

"So what did you want me to tell you about?" the Doctor asks next. "No more abyss."

"The Flux," Donna says. "I saw it in your head. The Toymaker mentioned it. You can start there."

The Doctor takes a deep breath, and the whole awful story pours out of him like a lanced boil, the infection of grief draining from him in small measure. Donna listens with her hands in his, alternately wiping away tears and wiping away his tears. When he's finished Donna moves back into his embrace, this time climbing into his lap and holding him tightly. "I've waited fifteen years to do this again," she says. Wordlessly the Doctor clings to her so that they can absorb the comfort and still, the astonishment and joy, of being together again.

"D'you want me to take you back to London or do you want to stay here?" the Doctor asks eventually.

"No," Donna says. She doesn't move for a little while longer, and the Doctor huffs a small laugh into her shoulder, his arms going back around her.

"What is it?" he asks.

"Remember when we went to that little island with the campfire city?" Donna asks. "And we just danced by the fires and ate good food and had a good time?"

"Meridion Ten, yes," the Doctor says. "That was beautiful."

"Can we do things like that from now on?" Donna asks. "You told me a long time ago you had so many places you wanted to take me. Can we just do those things?" He can feel her fingers caressing through his hair in the back, the same comforting feeling from so long ago. She used to do this and it made him feel--

"You'd better stop that," he tells her. "I'll take you anywhere but if you don't let go of me I'm going to kiss you, Donna Noble, and we both know that is not a good idea."

"Oh, it's such a good idea," Donna says, starting to laugh. "It's the best idea. I want to so badly."

"To answer your question," he says, pulling back and away from her so that he doesn't tip her over onto her back and kiss her on the floor of the library the way he used to all those years ago, "is yes. I will take you to all those places and more. And you can bring whoever you want."

Donna slides back onto the floor and sighs. "Good," she says. "I need a nap," she adds. "Between the whiskey and the crying I've worn myself out."

"Where do you want to go?" the Doctor asks, unfolding to his feet. He holds out his hand. "C'mon."

Donna gets to her feet and adjusts her clothes. "I think I'd better go back to London," she says. "No one's home in France, right?"

"Nope," he says.

Donna nods. "Fine," she says, smiling a little. "I'd better go back then." She leads him back to the console room, hand in hand, and the Doctor feels an old magnetism in their contact.

At the console, instead of starting the flight sequence, Donna pulls him down by the collar and kisses him deeply, hard, greedily. He responds immediately, pulling her up against him from knee to mouth. "Yes," he says in between kisses.

"Mm-hm," Donna answers, and kisses him until she's finished, both of them a little out of breath afterwards.

"Don't you dare cheat on your husband," the Doctor says, his hands pushing her sweater off her shoulders with the complete opposite intention.

"I won't, I won't," Donna says. She steps back from him, shrugs her sweater back on, and starts to move around the console.

"Swear on my life I'll fuck your brains out," he tells her as he turns the ignition dials.

"I know," Donna says. She smiles at him, a million watts.

"It's a new body," he continues. "All my faculties are fresh."

"So why haven't you gone and tried them out on some French ladies?" Donna asks cheekily. They circle the console, flipping levers, pushing buttons, always a few feet apart.

"Don't want to try them out on anyone but you," the Doctor says. "Bit of a problem, that."

"Ah, well, we can work on that," Donna says. "Our relationship's a state secret after all." The TARDIS hums into stable flight and Donna steps back from the controls. She leans on the railings and says, "You know, the other Doctor was right. You do need a chair in here."

Instead of answering, the Doctor just puts his hands in his pockets. "Stop distracting me with your chair talk." He regards her with a look full of intent. "What about Shaun?"

Donna nods. "I know," she says. "I have to figure out how to explain it to him."

"Has he asked?"

"If we've had sex? No."

"D'you think he suspects?"

"No," Donna says. "He knows as much as my mum and grandfather could tell him, but some things only I know."

"So you're going to ask his permission?"

"Maybe," Donna says. "I haven't decided." She shrugs. "Lots of new things are happening now."

"Don't ruin your marriage," the Doctor says.

"Spaceman," Donna says, coming to stand right next to him. "I won't do anything of the sort."

"Listen," he says. "Look at me."

Donna regards him with the most amused and affectionate face, and he can't help smiling back. "I want you to know that I want you as much as I did before and more," he says. "If you weren't married you'd never have made it out of your room in my house. You'd always be there."

"I'm always there anyway," Donna says.

"Yes. And I love it," the Doctor says. "And I would shag you in every room of that house if I could. You know that."

"I do know that," Donna says. "Would be an absolute joy." She looks him over with the same kind of approving desire she always used to. The Arrival Alert System dings brightly, and Donna smiles. "Right, then, Spaceman," she says. "I'm going to get some sleep. Because I won't sleep if I stay around you." She kisses him many little times on each cheek and then his lips, and adds, "I'll be back."

"You better come back, Donna Noble," the Doctor says, dropping his hands to pull her hips up against his. "Good night."

He watches her pick up the boxes she'd left at the door and leave, his mind moving at light speed as usual. The first time around they'd worked hard to keep their relationship a secret, for fear of exploitation. This time around UNIT has made their relationship an actual secret, for the same reason and more. There was never any concern of pregnancy or risk of disease, so they were free to do as they pleased then.

It won't be different this time. He can already tell.

In the kitchen of the London house, Rose is sitting at the table reading a book. "Hello, darling, I love when you come home for the weekend," Donna says, dropping a kiss on her head.

"Hi, mum," Rose says. "Where've you been, then?"

"Work," Donna says. "Had a briefing. I changed my clothes on the TARDIS." She indicates the boxes in her arms. "Look. I've brought us some treasures."

"From space?" Rose asks, and Donna laughs.

"From space," she says. "And this blanket is for you."

"Ooh, purple, lovely," Rose says. They go upstairs together and spread it onto her bed, where it hangs onto the floor and pools around the bed frame. Rose laughs and jumps right into it, wrapping herself up. "Oh, it smells like you," she says to Donna. "Like your perfume and your shampoo."

"Oh, good," Donna says. "It's been out of use for fifteen years."

"No, I love it," Rose says. "Now. What's in those boxes you brought?"

So Donna settles herself on Rose's bed, and she and her daughter go through the two boxes, laughing like best friends. Donna puts the Shakespeare books aside for her bookshelf, and she and Rose pull out the jewelry box Donna had kept in her room aboard the ship.

"Ohh, wow," Rose says when Donna lifts the lid. "Oh, mum. Look at this, it's a treasure trove." She picks up a necklace, with an intricate pendant of precious stones. "Where's this one from?"

Donna proceeds to tell her the story of each piece; each pair of earrings, each necklace, what was a gift and from who, why she has a collection of Amaran bangles (a story she tactfully edits as they had been part of an offering made to her for something she and the Doctor had done together that was decidedly not saving the universe), the pendant she'd made of a sapphire from the waterfall of Juno's Tears, and finally the simple gold band, at the very bottom, that the Doctor had put on her hand all those years ago.

"A biodamper?" Rose asks. "Mum, this is a wedding ring."

"Yes, it looks like one," Donna says. "But it suppresses biological signal so you can't be tracked."

"Why is it a wedding ring, though?" Rose asks.

"I was in my wedding dress, you know the story," Donna shrugs. "It made sense at the time."

"Nothing makes sense with the Doctor," Rose says. "That's my favorite part of all of it." Then she gives her mother a knowing look. "But he could have given you anything and he chose a ring. Interesting."

Donna smiles wryly as she replaces the jewelry back into the box and shuts the lid. "If you ever want to borrow any of it," she says, "just ask me." Then she yawns, the tiredness from aboard the TARDIS returning in the wake of her excitement. "I need some sleep," she says. "Where's your father?"

"He's out driving," Rose says. "He says he'll be back around nine."

"Right," Donna says. "I'm going to have a kip and I'll start dinner when I get up."

Sleep, of course, is easier said than done for Donna, and has been for fifteen years. For the last fifteen years she's been a bad sleeper, waking every few hours, restless with fear and anxiety. Now with her memories back, she knows what her dreams are, but they are still terrifying. She'd thought those would subside now that the Doctor is back, but it seems it's her own problem. So as tired as she is, it's often hard for her to get into bed and sleep.

So she crawls under her covers and sighs, resting her head on her pillow and attempting to breathe her way into sleep. She is tired, has been tired for as long as she can remember. Even half an hour would be nice, she thinks.

After ten long minutes of lying there discontentedly, Donna goes back to Rose's room to retrieve her blanket. "I'll bring it back," she says, and Rose just smiles and says okay.

Back in her bed, Donna pulls the purple blanket over herself and sighs. She closes her eyes, and tears slip from beneath her closed lids. The instant relief and comfort she feels under that blanket has eluded her for fifteen years. She wipes at her eyes and turns over onto her stomach. In a few minutes she actually drifts off to sleep.

And dreams. She dreams of terror, of running, of things exploding. And then she dreams of pleasure, vividly, of hands and mouths and tongues and the way she would embrace the Doctor with all four limbs, both of them focused entirely on each other. She dreams of sunrises and vistas of sky, and the sound of the TARDIS wheezing and groaning.

When she does finally wake up, it's dark. She looks over at the clock and it says 2:43 AM. She sits up immediately, looking around herself. Shaun is asleep next to her under their regular blanket, and the house is quiet. Donna gets out of bed softly, so as not to disturb him, and goes down the hallway to check on Rose, who is also asleep in her room. So she goes downstairs to the kitchen since she's missed dinner.

In the fridge there is a container of pasta and meatballs, probably made by Rose when she realized her mum wouldn't be up to cook herself. The dishes are done and the counters are clean, so Donna flips on a low light and puts the leftovers into a bowl to heat up. She sits alone at her kitchen table to eat, thinking, thinking, thinking.

It isn't that she doesn't love Shaun-- she does. In fact in a big way she owes him a lot, since he'd taken on the burden of knowing her without hesitation. With her memories back she'd been able to understand more why he'd been so accommodating. But he knows only as much as Wilf and Sylvia, and would never be able to know everything Donna knows. And now, in the face of UNIT's directive, he would know even less. Donna contemplates the unfairness of that, how it would exclude the person who is supposed to be closest to her from the inner workings of her life. It is a lot to ask of one person, and she thinks guiltily she's already asked so much of him. First when she gave away her lottery winnings, she'd been mad with grief and confusion. Then when Rose wanted to grow into herself and Donna insisted, insisted her last name be Noble and not Temple. He'd put up with her, put up with all of it, and complained to no one. For that alone he deserves her love forever. But for that reason he will also be excluded from any future knowledge of her life and her work.

And now, after fifteen years of an unfathomably heavy burden of embarrassment and shame and tears for her perceived ineptitude, for a breakdown she didn't even have, Donna is ready for some joy and some good work. She's ready to stop seeing herself as someone other people only tolerate. She's ready to stop feeling like she only tolerates herself.

And for all his generosity and easygoing spirit, Donna isn't sure how much longer Shaun will be willing to be on the outside of her life. He's been on the outside for so much of her thought process for as long as she's known him that in the end she has to admit she isn't quite sure what made her marry him. She thinks he will probably come to that same conclusion at some point, if not soon at least in the near future.

"Donna?"

Donna looks up from her bowl of pasta to see Shaun standing in the kitchen doorway.

"What are you doing up?" he asks. "It's 3 AM."

"I didn't eat," Donna says.

"Yeah, you were sleeping pretty good so Rosie knocked up dinner before I came home," Shaun says, coming to sit at the table with her. "I didn't want to wake you. I've never seen you sleep so deeply."

"I needed it," Donna says, taking another bite of her food. "You want some?" She offers him her fork.

"Nah," he says. "I just came down to make sure you're all right."

"I'm fine," Donna says. She smiles at her husband gently. "I actually got some decent rest."

"Where did that purple blanket come from?" Shawn asks. "I've never seen it before."

"It was on my bed on the TARDIS," Donna says, without thinking.

"Oh. You had a bed on that ship?" Shaun asks.

"Well, yes," Donna says. "It was my home for a year." She's gotten herself into it now, no doubt. "I had a very nice room and a nice bed, and that blanket was my favorite." She breathes deeply to steady herself. "I've been told by UNIT that I can't tell you anything about what goes on aboard the TARDIS. Intergalactic directive."

"Oh," Shaun says again, and he is quiet. "So you can't tell me anything you do at work? Or with the Doctor?"

"No," Donna says, aware of how he must feel.

"Oh," Shaun says again. "Er. I guess that's for safety?"

"Yeah," Donna says. "State secrets."

"That's quite a directive," Shaun says. "So this means I'm on the outside of your work, too. Like everything else."

"What do you mean?" Donna asks, in spite of having the same thought.

"Donna." Shaun takes one of her hands. "I have known you for fifteen years. And now I feel like I don't know you at all. You saved the world again, you saved the universe, and I have no idea how you did it or what happened. And now you can't tell me." He lets go of her hand. "I want you to know that I see how the Doctor looks at you. I see how you look at him. And this is one of those major life decisions you've made without me. Again."

"I didn't--"

"I'm not angry at you," Shaun says, holding up a hand. "But you obviously have something very big to do with your life, Donna. Something beyond all of us. Something you can't do tied to me."

"What d'you mean?" Donna asks again. She's glad the light is low so he can't see her blushing-- she can feel her cheeks are hot.

"I mean that I've watched you make life decisions that affect both of us without you ever consulting me," Shaun says. "And I've accepted it. I accept you. I always have."

"So then what are you saying?" Donna asks, feeling her heart constrict all at once.

"I'm saying, Donna, that maybe it's time for me to go. I can't keep feeling like I'm going to be a permanent outsider in your life."

There it is.

Donna doesn't know whether to be happy or devastated. "I don't understand," is all she can say.

"I'm nothing here," Shaun says. "I'm no one. Your mum and your grandad know nothing more than I do, but they're old and they're not obliged to know. You're my wife and I don't know you anymore. You're different."

Donna is quiet. "So was it easier when I was the sad one?" she asks. "When I had to depend on you?"

"No," Shaun says. "I hated seeing you suffer. Maybe you don't believe me anymore when I say I love you. But I love you enough to let you go and do this thing that you have to do with your life." He shrugs. "I've accepted you for who you are as long as I've known you. But I don't know you anymore, and even if it hurts, and it hurts--" His voice splits along the seams a little, "I know it's right. You know it's right."

"I don't know that," Donna says, feeling as though she could cry too. Again. More tears. She's so tired of tears.

"Yes, you do," Shaun says. "I think it's time for me to cut my losses. I can't ever smile at you the way the Doctor does. It's not possible. I don't know you the way he does. I didn't share his mind or his ship. And you had a bed on that ship. Am I supposed to believe the two of you never shared that bed?"

Donna knows for sure she is blushing red now. "I..." she says, and then: "No. You aren't."

"All right then," Shaun says. "Look, Donna, we both know this is better."

"Do we?" Donna asks.

"Everything will be all right," Shaun says. "We can sell the house and split the money and Rose can come and stay with me whenever she wants."

"Keep the house," Donna says. "You can have it. We don't have to sell it. It's yours."

Shaun nods silently. "Fine," he says. "That's good too."

"It's the one thing I did right by you," Donna says unsteadily.

"No," Shaun says. "You gave me a child. You made me happy. Now things have changed in ways that none of us could anticipate. But you can't think I haven't seen the two of you in the garden, or when you sit up late at night in the living room just talking. You can't think I don't see that. Where does that longing come from?"

"I can't explain it to you," Donna says.

"I know, your job."

"No, it's not that," Donna stops him. "It isn't work. I couldn't explain it to you before, because I didn't remember. Now I think I understand it even less, because he was gone for so long and he came back for me, and I never expected--" And she is crying, just quietly, because she is so relieved. An unexpected relief. "I never expected any of this. I never asked for any of this."

"So don't you think it's time for you to ask for what makes you happy?" Shaun asks. "If it isn't me, or it can't be me, why would I hold that against you? In the face of all this... space work you do? This is all so much bigger than us. And you are so clearly needed, by the Doctor and by our planet. And we had no idea until now."

Donna lowers her face into her hands.

"It's time to stop being ashamed," Shaun says. "I'm sorry that things aren't going the way you expected but you should know by now that they never will. And I just can't take that kind of danger or that uncertainty."

"I understand," Donna says from behind her hands. She picks her face up. "I said the same thing to him when I first met him."

"But then you spent your life looking for him," Shaun says. "And the two of you keep finding each other in this vast, stupid, unfathomable universe."

Donna nods wordlessly, more tears falling.

"And I've seen you cry so much over these fifteen years," Shaun says. "I've never once seen you have any relief from it and now I think you do." He sighs. "I know you, Donna, or I did at one point. I see the weight off you. I see the way you actually smile with your eyes now. I see how you are different. And because I love you, I want only what will make you happy. Can you want the same for me?"

"I always did," Donna says. "I always did. I never wanted to hurt you or exclude you."

"I believe you," Shaun says. "None of this was your choice, I believe you on that front."

"And I never, ever cheated on you," Donna says.

"I believe that too," Shaun says. "You hardly know which way is up at this very moment. I can't imagine you'd want to go shag some alien bloke when you've had your life upended again."

Donna wipes her eyes. "I'm sorry," she says.

"I know," Shaun says. "You just have to see if from my perspective. I've been on the outside the entire time. I've done my best and so have you. But this is bigger than all of us." He smiles a little painfully. "I thought I knew what you looked like in love, but now... I really know. And I can't be part of it."

"Okay," Donna says. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Me too," Shaun says. "But I can't do this life. We have a child we need to keep safe. I can't be shuttled back and forth between two houses and watch you look at that man like there is no one else around you. I see you. There's nothing for me here. So it's time for me to just... have a life I can accept. I'll drive my taxi and I'll do whatever it takes to make a life for myself."

"You won't be alone," Donna says. "I can help you."

"I don't want your help," Shaun says. "I want you to go and do what it is you need to do. That will be the way you pay me back for all these years. Fulfill your purpose. You married me because you didn't know better. Now you do. So be free."

"Is this really what you want?" Donna asks.

"Yes, I think it's right," Shaun says. "We can sit down and tell Rose tomorrow morning so she has the weekend to absorb it before she goes back to school."

"Oh, god," Donna says. "I think this might be the worst night of my life."

Shaun smiles a little bittersweet smile. "No," he says. "That's already happened to you. This might be the best thing that's ever happened to us as a couple. To just... not be one anymore."

So Donna takes her pillow and blanket from the master bedroom and goes to sleep in the spare bedroom, her bowl and cup in the sink unwashed. Shaun stays in the master suite.

In the morning over breakfast they sit down with Rose together and explain what they'd talked about. After her initial surprise, Rose's face turns sad. "And there's no way you can see to work it out?" she asks her father.

Shaun shakes his head. "I can't live like this," he says. "I need stability and I need safety, and as long as I am here, I will have neither of those. And I won't even be allowed to know what your mum does for work. It's too much."

Tears fill Rose's eyes. "Are you sure?" This is to both her parents.

"I think so," Donna says. "I'm sorry. But I think so."

"So what will happen next?" Rose asks.

"I'm going to move to France permanently," Donna says. "And your dad will keep the house in London, and if he decides to sell it, he can. Wherever he goes you'll have a home with him, and you always have a home in France with me."

"Where are you going in France?" Rose asks. "With the Doctor?"

Donna nods. "It's my other home," she says. "Well... it's my home too."

"Does the Doctor know?" Rose asks.

"No," Donna says. "But I will talk to him. He's coming to take you back to school on Sunday."

As it turns out, Donna is not home when the Doctor arrives to bring Rose back to school. She's out at the supermarket, and Rose is big-eyed and anxious when the TARDIS wheezes and groans into the back garden. She gives her father a huge, tight hug. "I love you, Dad," she says. "I'll always love you and I support your decision and I will always be your child no matter what."

Shaun tears up at that. "Thank you, darling. I'll see you when you come home again?"

"I'll be back," Rose promises. "I'll be around. You won't be alone."

"Your mum said that too," Shaun says. "Go. I love you. See you next weekend."

Inside the TARDIS Rose hugs the Doctor too. "You look less than chipper," the Doctor says. "You all right?"

"Yeah," Rose says. "Just thinking about something I can't change." And she says little else until the TARDIS lands with a smooth thump in the side courtyard of the UNIT school campus.

"Thank you," Rose says, gathering her things. "I'm coming home next weekend, if you want to get me. I can always take transport."

"The other kids will be jealous if they see you traveling by TARDIS all the time," the Doctor says. "I'll be back on Friday. Behave yourself."

"Never," Rose says, smiling, and walks off the TARDIS back to school.

For the next week, Donna operates awkwardly around Shaun, moving into the spare bedroom and going to London UNIT headquarters on the tube every morning instead of in his taxi so they can start their work day together. They have small conversations with no malice or arguing, just sadness. Donna comes home to an empty house, and Shaun starts staying out later to drive, so they miss each other in the mornings and evenings.

After the first awful night, when Donna sobbed into her pillows for a while after, she begins to accept that this is a time to move forward. She didn't know what she'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't for Shaun to decide to leave.

But then what? she thinks. I would have been wearing two wedding rings? Or sleeping with both of them? Or cheating on my husband? Or what? She honestly doesn't know. What she does know now is that she's free. It's terrifying to be standing at the precipice of everything she wants and needs. She isn't sure she's brave enough to take it for herself. She contemplates just being alone, and almost right away has to let the thought go, because it's too late for that. And the thought of being without the Doctor again makes her heart tighten painfully and constricts her breath.

So that next Friday, when Donna has been texting with Rose all day to arrange her dropoff in London, the Doctor comes to collect Rose from school. She still has the same look of worry on her face, and the Doctor frowns a little.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" he asks.

Rose takes a deep breath. "I wanted to ask you something, but it's personal."

"Well, you are my favorite niece, and I'll decide what's too personal," the Doctor says.

So Rose just decides to ask it, no hesitation. Better not to. "Do you love my mum?" she asks.

"Well, of course," the Doctor starts, but Rose holds up a hand.

"Are you in love with her?" Rose clarifies.

"Oh," the Doctor says, his hands stilling on the console. "Er, I'm not sure that's--"

"I mean it," Rose says. "I need to know."

"She is married to your father," the Doctor says, resuming the flight sequence with a grimace. "I would never come between that."

"My parents broke up last week," Rose says, and the Doctor freezes. "So she didn't tell you. I thought not. I was wondering where you were."

"What?"

"My father decided he doesn't want this life and they broke up," Rose says. "I think they did the right thing."

The Doctor would be lying if he denied the painful pang of desperate hope and wanting he felt at those words. Instead he just clears his throat. "Is your mum all right?" he asks.

"You're glad," Rose says. "I can tell. You weren't happy she was married."

"Don't be angry with me," he says.

"No," Rose says. "I'm not angry. It's just another big thing we didn't expect. I think my dad is right. And I think my mum is right. So really, this is good."

"Are you all right?" the Doctor asks, knowing he should have asked this first.

Rose smiles a little. "There you are," she says. "You asked about my mum first. That alone tells me what I want to know."

The Doctor sighs. "Well," he says. "Let me get this ship in flight and I'll drop you home. And I'll talk to your mother. If she'll let me."

He enters the Noble house tentatively to find Donna standing in the kitchen, wearing a soft cream-colored dress and slippers. She looks like home. "Hello," she says, waving her spoon. "Staying for dinner?"

Rose kisses her mother on the cheek and disappears up the stairs with a meaningful look at the Doctor, who misses it because he's looking at Donna.

"I could do that," he says. "If you want."

Donna gestures to the kitchen table. "Sit," she says. "Thanks for bringing her home."

"I always will," he says. A short silence elapses. "I heard what happened." He sees Donna's shoulders drop, and she bows her head a little.

"Right to business, aren't you?" she asks him, turning around. "How did you know?"

"Rose," he says.

"Ah, I should've known."

"She loves you, Donna, she wants you to be happy."

"Well," Donna says, turning the heat down on her stovetop. "She told you Shaun doesn't want to be married anymore."

"Do you?" the Doctor asks. "That's the real question. I know you."

Donna takes a moment before she answers. "I don't," she says. "Can I tell you the truth?"

"It's all I ever want from you."

"I would never have married him without losing you," Donna says. "And if I have you back I have what I want, so in a way, it's not so bad." She watches the smile grow on his face, like a break of sun through clouds. He gets out of his chair, takes the spoon out of her hands, puts his hands in her hair, and kisses her. It's a kiss of memory, because they both know this in their bones. And it's a kiss for a new beginning, because they know that too.

"You'd really leave him?"

"He left me," Donna says. "He said he wanted to go. And that he didn't know me anymore, and that he didn't want the life. So I'm letting him go. I want him to be happy, and if he's not happy here, I want him somewhere he's happy."

"So what are you going to do next?" he asks.

"Thought I'd go home with you, didn't I?" Donna says, and this time she's ready for him when he kisses her.

"Are you sure you don't want me to fuck off to France forever and you can work it out?" he asks her, hoping, hoping, hoping.

"Don't you dare," she says. "I would die without you. Knowing what I know. How could you even ask me that? Fuck's sake." She says it with no rancor, but only half-teasing. She moves to stir the fragrant pot of beef mince she'd been working on for a pie. The Doctor winds an arm around her waist.

"Smells nice," he says. "When are you coming home, then?"

Donna smiles in profile, adding a bit more fresh thyme into the mix. "I'll wait til Shaun gets in from driving and I'll bring my things."

"What do you really need from here, anyway?" the Doctor asks. "You have clothes on the TARDIS."

"It's tacky not to move my things," Donna says. "Too much of a reminder. Besides, I always make sure he has a hot dinner when he's out late."

"Wife material, Donna Noble," he says, and she gives him a sidelong look.

"You have no idea," she says, and the tone of her voice makes it something much more naughty and fun. "I'll tell you what you can do," she says, "is not be here when Shaun gets here. Just wait for me on the TARDIS. I won't take long. Rose wants my books and knickknacks so I'll just empty my side of the closet and pack my jewelry."

Shaun gets home around eleven, the Doctor having disappeared back into the ship an hour before, so that Donna is alone in the living room reading. "Hello," Shaun says when he comes in. He sounds normal. Donna smiles a little.

"Hi," she says. "Dinner's in the oven warming up if you want it."

"What's on?"

"Beef mince pie," Donna says. It's an imitation of a conversation they've had a million times, but it's lost its savor.

"Sounds lovely."

"I thought I'd move my things out tonight," Donna says next.

"Oh," Shaun says. "Yeah, okay. Do you want help?"

"Nah," Donna says. "I've got it in hand."

"Are you getting picked up?" Shaun asks.

"Yeah," Donna says, and leaves it at that. "I just wanted to be sure you got home okay before I left. Didn't want to leave Rose alone."

"Ah, she's big, she'd be fine," Shaun says. He goes to the kitchen to dish himself up a plate and Donna goes upstairs to get her bags and goes to Rose's room with her purple blanket. She covers Rose gently, so as not to wake her, and goes downstairs. At the bottom of the staircase she looks back towards the kitchen. "Shaun?"

"Yeah?" he says, looking up from his plate.

Donna rushes into the kitchen and embraces him hard. "Thank you," she says. "I know you don't think I do, but I love you so much. You have no idea how you saved my life."

Shaun hugs her back and she feels his breath hitch. "I'll miss you," he says.

"I know, me too," Donna says, her own voice coming apart at the seams. "You will always be Rose's father, and you'll always have whatever you need. I will never let you go without. I'll make sure." She kisses his cheek, and holds him tight.

"Okay," he says. "I hope you're happy in France, Donna, I just want you to be happy."

"Me too for you," Donna says. She takes a few fortifying breaths before she lets go of him, which hurts much more than she expected, and wipes her eyes. "Well. I'm off, then."

"Yeah," Shaun says, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "Be careful."

"Bye," Donna says, her face so sad. But as she takes her bags towards the back door to the garden, where the TARDIS is waiting, she feels herself start to smile. Even through the tears, the joy of knowing that she'll be somewhere she's known and safe and loved, it's all priceless. It's all worth it.

She uses her TARDIS key to get in, and the Doctor helps her move her bags, just like he had fifteen years before. He sees the tears in her eyes and the brilliant smile on her face and gives her a long hug. "Welcome home," he says, the way she had all those months ago when he found his house.

"Oh," Donna says when he lets her go. "That was so much easier than I thought it would be. Thank god."

"Because it's what's supposed to happen," the Doctor says.

"Innit," Donna says, in her very Donna way. "Let's go to France, Spaceman."

"Let's go to France," he agrees. They circle the console in their usual way, and within three minutes they are landed in his back garden in Montresor. It's nearly midnight, so they decide to light the fire pit and sit out in the balmy night air for a while. There isn't much around so the stars are plentiful, and Donna settles herself on one of the loungers.

A free woman, she thinks. That is what I am right now. It wasn't Shaun who was the trap, of course, it was her own memory loss, but still, she feels like something very good is beginning. And though she feels horrible for hurting Shaun, she knows he is right when he says all of this is bigger than them. And though she had never expected him to leave her, she couldn't blame him. She knows him well enough to know that he wouldn't have said anything if he didn't really feel it.

"You all right?" the Doctor asks her, pulling his chair next to hers.

"Yeah," Donna says softly. It's actually true. "It was time."

"it was time," he says. "It was more than time." He takes her hand. "I'm so glad you came home. I was hoping you would." He stops himself. "I mean, I wasn't hoping you'd get divorced, but I was hoping you'd stay with me instead, and I--" He stops again. "Sorry. I'm saying that completely wrong."

"I know what you meant," Donna says, smiling. "Spaceman."

The affectionate nickname has always stuck with him. "I was thinking about something," the Doctor says after a while. "Why this face? Why this me?"

Donna nods. "Any breakthroughs?"

"Yeah," the Doctor says. "I know why this face is back. You were right. I wanted to come home, but you are my home. I wanted to be that man that you loved back then, so here I am again. This is the face you know. It was for you. All of it."

"D'you know what I love?" Donna asks him by way of an answer. "The way you say 'my Donna.' Makes me so happy. Even the not-thing knew about that."

He just smiles. "It's true," he says, shrugging as if it's the most well-known fact in the world. "You are. You always have been."

"I think something is happening here that has never happened before," Donna says. "I think that I am getting exactly what I want and need at the same time for the first time in my life."

"It's all yours," the Doctor says. He sits up. "Hey," he says. "Grandad gave me some biscuits last time he was here, do you want some?"

Donna smiles again at how he calls Wilf "Grandad" now, like real family. "Let's have some," she says. "Why not?" He brings her back a box of Jaffa cakes and another of Chocolate Hobnobs, and Donna laughs. "The most basic British biscuits to exist," she says. "You like a Hobnob?"

"Love a Hobnob," the Doctor says. "Simple and delicious."

"Well," Donna says, taking a Jaffa cake from the box, "we are in France and as such, we will be eating French pastries just as often as these little things." She turns onto her side on the lounger to look at him as he sits down next to her again. "We'll go walking, and we'll take little trips when I have holiday time, and we'll just be." She takes a bite. "It's all I ever wanted anyway," she adds. "Mm, raspberry jam."

"What'll I do while you're at work?" the Doctor asks. Donna smiles with her whole heart at this.

"Oh, will you miss me? Whatever you want except running off to fight aliens," she says. "Don't you have any hobbies, Spaceman?"

"Not Earth hobbies," he says.

"Ah, so something for you to explore," Donna says. "Even the weird stuff. No one has to know what you do."

The Doctor starts to laugh, looking at her earnest face. "That sounds like fun."

"Yeah," Donna says. "You can... tinker, you know? Build things. Paint things. Pick up the guitar. Something like that."

They stay out in the garden talking until nearly sunrise, when Donna drifts off in the middle of a sentence, finally tired. The Doctor, who has different needs for sleep than humans, wakes her up to go get into her bed. "It's Saturday," he says. "You can sleep as late as you want."

Donna's room in the house in France is her own now, furnished with a big comfortable bed, an armchair, tall, rounded airy windows covered with white curtains, and plush rugs. She climbs into her bed with relief and buries herself in her blankets, so that she looks like a little kid peeking out from the covers. "You gonna join me?" she asks him.

"To sleep?" he asks, and shrugs. "Sleep is boring."

Donna smiles immediately, both their faces full of intent. "All right," she says. "I'll be boring for a while." She's still wearing her clothes from the night before, so she discards them piece by piece and tosses them on the floor. "See you, Spaceman. Join me or don't, but I'm definitely going to sleep."

He pulls the blankets down off her to get a good look at her, and kisses her. "I'll never let you sleep like this," he says. "So good night. Or good morning. Come back to me when you're rested."

"Your self-control is something else," Donna grumbles good-naturedly, laying back on the bed without covering herself back up.

"Er, it's not," he says. "It's killing me. But you need to sleep."

"You need to sleep," Donna says.

"Later," he says. "I'm going to go watch some telly and make breakfast. You eat whenever." And with another kiss, his thumb making a short, electric circle on her right nipple, he goes back downstairs. Donna rolls over onto her stomach and actually sleeps.

She finds him at noon in the garden sort of just looking off into the distance. She comes outside in just her bathrobe and slippers, joining him on the chair next to him. "What're you looking at, then?" she asks, and he seems to come out of deep thought.

"Nothing," he says. "Slept well?"

"Never better," she says, exhaling contentedly. "Haven't slept in fifteen years."

"Right," he says, with a laugh of recognition.

"Nice day," Donna comments.

"Gorgeous," he says, looking at her instead of the sky. "Want a coffee?"

"Yes," she says. "Would be amazing."

So he gets up and brings her out a hot coffee with cold milk, just like she likes it, in a flowered mug she'd bought at a shop in their little town. He hands it to her and kisses her forehead so that she tilts her chin up to him to kiss him properly. "Don't spill it," he says to her against her lips.

"Fuck off," Donna says, smiling, skimming her tongue along his bottom lip. She puts the mug down on the little glass topped table next to her. "What do you do on Saturdays, then?" she asks.

"That question has a different answer now that you're here," the Doctor says.

"Oh," Donna says, interested.

"For example, if you weren't here, I might just spend the day doing nothing," he says. "But since you're here, maybe we should take a little trip to Prague or something. See some castles? Have lunch on a tropical island somewhere?"

"Ooh, Spaceman, you do know how to talk to a woman," Donna says, laughing.

"We also don't have to go anywhere, given that robe you're wearing," the Doctor says, giving her a good once-over. "That's all you're wearing, Donna Noble."

"That's true," Donna says. "Get used to it. I live here now and I never had the chance to just be naked. I always had people around me."

"Oh, you'll never hear me object," he tells her. "You're home. I'll have you in every room of this house."

Donna just regards him contentedly, full of desire and happiness. "So," she says. "Did you think any more about that Earth name?"

"No," the Doctor says. "Do I have to?"

"People will ask," Donna says. "They might accept Doctor as a nickname, but you need some kind of name for your registrations and everyday interactions."

The Doctor shrugs. "What are you going to call me? Are you going to stop calling me Doctor?"

"Not unless you want me to," Donna says. "But for other people it's just handy. I'll tell you what; you should ask Rose. She picked her own name. You should see what she says."

"I'll do that," he says, smiling.

"Right," Donna says, draining the last of her coffee. "I'm going for a shower." She gets up and says, "Are you joining me, Spaceman?"

He grins at her. On the TARDIS they never cared to stop their conversation or interrupt themselves for something as trivial as bathing, so the Doctor would often sit by her bathtub or outside her shower, or they would keep a video link open so they could keep talking. "C'mon, then," he says.

Donna has her own bathroom now, since the floor with her bedroom has Rose's room on it and no other. The Doctor's room is on the third floor, a sprawling master suite with an attached bathroom that was nearly as glorious as the one Donna had made for herself on the TARDIS. Her own bathroom is large and airy, with a tub and a shower, and Donna drapes her robe over the towel rack, standing there naked and adjusting the shower to her liking. It's not like the TARDIS which knew her preferred temperatures and which soaps she liked. It's ordinary, and comforting, and the Doctor seats himself on the counter the way he always used to, just watching her with a smile.

“We’ve got to find a little café,” she says, “to be our spot.” She steps into the shower behind the glass door. The glass begins to steam up from the heat of the water so Donna swipes away a swath. “Can you fix it?” she asks. “I can’t see you.”

The smile on his face grows even wider and he pulls out the sonic to press it to the glass so that it won’t retain stain or steam. “Better,” Donna says, as she reappears from behind the steam. “Didn’t have that issue on the TARDIS. Anyway.” She gives him a smile in return. “What was I saying?”

“There’s a café in town,” the Doctor says. “That can be our spot.”

"All right," Donna agrees. "I should work out a schedule with Shaun for when Rose is here. She can decide, of course, but I want to make sure he doesn't miss out on her."

"Her dorm mother says she's coming out of her shell a lot," the Doctor says. "She's a lot happier."

Donna nods, sighing. "Yeah," she says. "She's so smart, but she got tortured by those boys at school and it got in her way."

"You'd never know she had any issues from her grades," the Doctor says.

"That's my girl," Donna says. She lathers her hair with shampoo.

"Now this is what I missed," the Doctor says, watching her as she moves around the shower.

"Ah, you were always the best company," Donna says. She scrubs herself clean, her hair glossy with conditioner. "When are you going to take a shower?" she asks.

"Do I stink?" he asks.

"No, but what's the standard?" Donna asks.

He smiles. "I'll shower every day if it makes you happy, but it's not necessary for me."

"Martian," Donna says, stepping under the water to rinse herself off. She turns off the water and steps out of the shower, her hand out for her towel. The Doctor doesn't move. Donna smiles.

"Are you trying to get a look at me naked or something?" she asks.

"Always," he says. He wraps her towel around her and pulls her up against him.

"I'm all wet, Spaceman, you'll get your clothes wet--"

"Don't give a fuck," he tells her, with an openmouthed kiss that proves his words. He follows a bead of water with his tongue, down her neck to her right breast, and Donna inhales. "Don't even know why you wear clothes around me," he adds. "Especially now."

"Told you, I always had people around me," Donna says, her voice breathless. "Oh, Doctor."

"You want me to pick an Earth name when you say 'Doctor' like that?" he asks, and Donna bites her lip. "You always said it so nice."

"Oh, I'll call you whatever you want," she says, watching him use her towel to dry her body for her. She tilts her head to the side, regarding his bent head. "Having fun?" she asks.

"Mm," he answers, flicking a look in her eyes and going back to massaging the towel along her hips and waist.

She thinks that he looks thin, and tired, but less than he did before. She thinks that even though he is thin and tired, he is filled with a kind of wanting that he's clearly suppressing to the best of his ability. That must be hard work, she thinks. "Oh," she says a moment later, when she feels him rub the towel between her thighs. "You'll never get that dry around you, Spaceman," she tells him, and his eyes snap to her face.

"Good," the Doctor says. Donna gasps again, rising on her toes a little bit when he dips his fingers between her legs. Then he sticks those fingers in his mouth, like he's been in a jam jar, and says "Still delicious."

"You remember," Donna says.

"As if I could ever forget," he says. "I've waited a long, long time for you, Donna."

"Then how long are you gonna make me wait for you?" Donna asks.

"I didn't want to move too fast," he says. "I've only just got you back. Couldn't live with myself if I fucked it up."

"Impossible," Donna says immediately. "You're fucking stuck with me, Spaceman. I'm not going anywhere."

He takes the towel back from around her and rubs his face with it. She gives him a look of scandalized delight. "Why don't you get dressed and we'll go and shop?" he says. "It's Saturday, we should party. Get a bunch of wine and pastries."

"You're no fun," Donna says.

"Oh, I'm so much fun," he says. "I think I made you a promise, something about every room in this house?"

"You did," Donna says.

"But I also promised Grandad some of the green beans from the market, and they're only here today," the Doctor says. "Otherwise he has to wait a week."

"Oh, no, a week," Donna teases, but she is so moved by his care for her grandfather. They're thick as thieves, the two of them, and though the Doctor looks younger he is not. The combination of boyish silliness and wonder alongside the soldier's broken heart in both of them makes them comrades. They can relate, having seen the worst of the worst and still believing in the best. She loves them both to overflowing for it.

"Fine, we'll buy some wine and pastries and beans," Donna says. She turns to go without her towel and the Doctor follows her immediately. In her bedroom he turns her to face her full-length mirror so she can see herself. He stands behind her, his hands on her hips.

"I won't make you wait forever," he says, and points at the mirror. "Watch." And he dips his fingers back down between her legs and doesn't stop until Donna is begging for more and mercy at the same time. "See?" he tells her. "Look at how you look. That's you and me and this is what we're supposed to be doing."

"Yes, yes," she moans. "I want it."

"It's yours," he says. "For as long as you want it."

Donna is pretty sure she can hardly stand for pleasure, but he's holding her up so she won't collapse. "That'll hold you over," he says to their reflection. "Get dressed," he adds. Donna reaches up to kiss him hard, to make him fuck her then and there, but even though he is ready for her (has been ready for her for millions of years) and even though she gets a hand down below his belt and she knows exactly what he likes, he steps back from her.

"So you're just going to edge me all day?" Donna asks.

"Trust me," he tells her, and licks his fingers again. "Put your clothes on, Donna Noble. Otherwise we're getting nothing done today and we need food." Donna grumbles about responsibilities, but gets dressed, the Doctor sitting contentedly on her bed watching.

They are about twenty minutes outside of the town proper, along a bright country lane lined with fields on either side. Donna has bags and a basket, a hat and a pretty blue dress. The Doctor offers her his arm and they make the walk together for a leisurely half-hour.

The farmer's market is in the square of the town, and there are various stalls set up. Donna makes the obvious jokes about the cucumbers and corn on the cob but only so the Doctor can hear since she knows the TARDIS translation circuit means everyone will be able to understand her. Donna notices him squinting in the afternoon sun and hands him her sunglasses. They get a generous portion of green beans along with the rest of the produce and then they stop at the butcher for chicken, the boulanger for fresh bread, and the patisserie. Donna picks out a bunch of tarts and pastries, as well as a big bag of freshly ground coffee beans.

On the walk back Donna takes his hand instead of his arm, and the Doctor takes two of the bags from her so that she's only carrying the basket. "Should we bring him the beans or have him over?" Donna asks.

"Tomorrow he can come over for dinner," the Doctor says. They walk quietly for a while in the warm sunshine. These moments are so ordinary for a human, but there is something golden about it for both of them; aware that in the broad, unfathomable scope of time and breadth of the universe they are on the same path again. And that path is a sunny country lane in one of the most beautiful places in the world, just them. The elegant simplicity of it convinces him this is the right place to be.

Instead of dinner, they eat pastries in the garden like two kids, drinking coffee and laughing over everything and nothing. Afterwards the Doctor keeps his promise about every room in the house (except Rose's room). They end up in his bedroom, Donna asleep with an arm flung over him while the TV plays a movie. The Doctor sits at his ease in a robe, something he's got to try and become accustomed to, his legs outstretched and his ankles crossed. He has his glasses on, providing him subtitles and analysis and tracking his surroundings as he watches. In his left peripheral the glasses keep a running track of Donna's vital functions and sleep pattern.

After an hour or so he moves and Donna makes a sleepy noise of discontent as she feels him start to shift. Her eyes open. "Don't go," she says. "I want you."

The words wrap around his heart like an embrace. "Okay," he says hoarsely, and moves back into the warm spot he'd been in. Donna settles back against him.

“Can’t sleep without you,” she murmurs. She picks up one of his hands and presses his fingers against her temple, then sleepily places hers against his, caressing his cheek as she does so. Instinctively he entrains onto the psychic connection, built of the remnants of their shared consciousness. In the past they had used this connection for sex, among other things, but now Donna just breathes, her sleepiness and contentment in his arms communicated to him without words. So he can feel what she does. She sends him the feeling of sleeping in his arms, so he knows. She sends him little images of them asleep together like a wave of sedative joy. And among all of it is the feeling of wanting, the word stay, the feeling of being protected. And then she sends him a memory of sleepy, easy sex in the dark, aboard the TARDIS in her bed. She drops her hand to wind her arm around him again.

“That too,” he says softly to her.

“Mm-hm,” she says, and her breathing evens out a moment later. He presses three kisses to the top of her head and closes his eyes to see if it works.

When his eyes open again the sun is up, painting stripes of bright light across the polished wood floor. Donna is sound asleep next to him, so he scoots out of the bed quickly and unobtrusively. Just enough time to go to that one bakery on that one street on that one planet that made those moonfruit tarts that Donna loved all those years ago.

Donna's eyes fly open immediately at the sound of the TARDIS wheezing and groaning. She's out of bed faster than she can remember in years, and down the stairs. In the kitchen the Doctor is standing there setting up the French press for two fresh cups of coffee, and Donna nearly skids to a halt. She pushes her hair out of her face, trying to act as though she had not just run down the stairs in a panic that he'd decided to disappear off into danger.

But the Doctor knows her. He gives her a wry, affectionate look and says, "Good morning."

"Morning," Donna says, moving to sit at the kitchen table. "Where've you been, then?"

"Might have been off getting us a little breakfast," he says. He hands her a green paper box from the counter. "Have a look?"

Donna lifts the top and looks for a moment. "Oh!" she says, realizing. "I remember these! They were fruit tarts. From that planet... Alabria. I remember that!" She looks up at him with shining eyes. "Moonfruits! These were so good, weren't they?"

"You remember," the Doctor says.

"Yeah," Donna says. "And no blowing up my head to remember it."

So they eat a leisurely breakfast in the kitchen, and spend the day cleaning and tidying in preparation for Wilf. Around five PM Donna starts to cook. She sets up her Bluetooth speaker and phone and starts to prep and wash. She has filets of chicken, a bag of potatoes, the bounty of haricots verts, and a fresh loaf of bread in the bread box. She puts her chicken in a bowl to marinate, then pulls out a very expensive wooden cutting board. All of her kitchen equipment is top of the line; expensive, high-quality items she'd synthesized on the TARDIS to spare the expense of buying them. She has cast iron everything, chef-quality knives, a stand mixer, a pasta-maker, a waffle iron, everything she ever wanted in a kitchen. She makes quick work of the onions and rinses the beans, spreading them on a baking sheet with olive oil and salt to roast in the oven. She chops fresh herbs, even chiffonades some basil for extra fanciness. In a pan she puts butter, fresh garlic, chopped onions, rosemary, thyme, basil, and tarragon.

The Doctor hears music from where he is standing in his bedroom looking through his top drawer for something he wanted to show Wilf. He looks up from his perusal and follows the sound down the stairs. He goes through the living room towards the kitchen and stops a few paces back. In the kitchen is Donna, dressed in a long green-and-white patterned dress, dancing between stove and counter, her red hair glinting in the light, her hips swaying to the beat. The air smells delicious and comforting. She doesn't notice him, so he stays there for a bit, thinking that he'll never leave this little French outpost as long as she lives.

Partway through a turn Donna spots him and stops, embarrassed at being caught. "Hello, Spaceman," she says, smiling ruefully. She can tell by the silly smile on his face and the look in his eyes he's been standing there for a bit. He always gets that soft-eyed expression when she isn't looking and he thinks she hasn't noticed. "How long have you been standing there, then?"

The Doctor only shrugs and comes into the kitchen, inhaling appreciatively. "The combination of the music, the food, and the beautiful woman in my house just... brought me down here." He melds himself to Donna's body, her back to his front, finally free to be as intimate with her as he pleases. "What's all this?" he asks, resting his hands warmly on her hips as he surveys the chicken sizzling merrily in its herbed butter sauce.

"It is poulet au Provence," Donna says, in perfect French. "And I have the beans in the oven and the potatoes on to boil. So we can go get Grandad when it's just about ready so he doesn't have to wait." She points to the counter. "We have wine, and we have lemons for his water, so besides dessert I think we're pretty set. What do you think?"

"I think that I love you," the Doctor says, pressing a kiss to her head. "I'll go get Grandad and we'll bring you back dessert, deal?"

"Deal," Donna says, and looks up over her shoulder at the Doctor. "I love you too, Spaceman." She puts her hands over his to savor the moment before he moves away.

Half an hour later she hears the Doctor and her grandfather laughing in the garden, the Doctor pushing Wilf's wheelchair along their path to the back door. "Hello, Donna, my love!" Wilf greets his granddaughter cheerily from the door. He's holding a box that turns out to have a strawberry shortcake in it, frosted in fresh whipped cream. Once inside the house, Wilf eases himself into his comfortable chair in the sunroom, and Donna comes to give him a hug.

"Hello, Gramps," she says, smiling. "We got you those beans. It's about twenty more minutes until we eat, so you make yourself comfortable. Do you want anything?"

"I'm going to talk to your Doctor for a while," Wilf says. "If you don't need him."

Donna smiles, flicks an affectionate glance at the Doctor and says, "I never need him for anything, he's all yours." She goes back to the kitchen, humming along with her music.

In the living room Wilf looks around and says, "Looks lovely in here."

"We haven't changed anything since you were here last," the Doctor says.

"I know," Wilf says. "Just homey, that's all. Anyone else here?"

"Nah," the Doctor says. "Don't know if you know what happened?"

"Oh," Wilf says. "Yes, with Shaun. About that. How is she?"

The Doctor sighs, shrugging a little, remembering how she'd looked with her head thrown back in pleasure the night before, wrapped around him in his lap on the sofa where he is sitting. "She's here permanently now," he says. "I think she's going to be all right once the shock wears off."

"She looks happy," Wilf says. "I'm glad she seems to be all right. She sleeping?"

"Now she is, yes," the Doctor says. "She says she wasn't before."

"Yeah, yeah," Wilf says, nodding. "She'd be up most nights until about 4 AM. It made the newborn stage easy with Rosie, though. She was just... awake. She said she had nightmares all the time and that sleeping wasn't restful for her anyway. She refused to take sleeping medicine and just lived with it."

The Doctor looks over his shoulder at Donna in the kitchen, still shaking her hips to the music as she whisks the mashed potatoes into fluffy peaks and adds butter and salt. "My poor Donna," he says. "She's been through a lot."

"She used to say she felt like a refugee," Wilf says. "She blamed herself for forgetting, and she worked really hard to make sure we didn't feel like she was dependent on us in any way. She went right back to work and she married Shaun and soldiered through."

"She must be tired," the Doctor says.

"Not like you and me of course," Wilf says. "But yeah. My girl. She deserves a break." He smiles and chuckles a little. "When she was wee she looked like Little Orphan Annie. Just a head full of red curls like you've never seen before. The other girls used to call her Carrots and make her cry."

"I'd love to see pictures of her," the Doctor says.

"I'll show you some when you take me home," Wilf says. "She tried to cut all her hair off one day but I caught her before she could make the first cut. Sylvia was furious of course, but no harm was done. We asked her why and said she didn't want to be ugly anymore. She was about six, I think."

"My Donna? Ugly?" the Doctor says.

"She was convinced," Wilf shrugs. "She never really got over that hurt, I think. It's always affected her. Ugly and stupid, that was usually her line. And Sylvia was no help, so she never really listened to anyone that told her otherwise."

"I mean, have you seen her?" the Doctor says, pointing towards the kitchen.

"I know," Wilf says. "She's my only granddaughter, she's always been my favorite. She just can't remember." He sniffs appreciatively. "Smell that good food," he adds. "She's got such a talent for cooking." He smiles at the Doctor. "So? How's living with her?"

Wilf can tell by the look in the Doctor's eyes that he's happy. "It's only been a few days of her being here permanently but I never wanted her to go in the first place, so you can imagine how I feel," the Doctor says. He looks as if he could cry from joy again, a look Wilf has seen so often since he returned. "But I think we're going to be great."

"Take care of her for me," Wilf says. "You don't have to marry her--"

The Doctor huffs a laugh. "I wasn't planning on asking, but I doubt she'd say yes to me anyway."

"Just make her happy," Wilf says. "She's been through so much, and she needs you so badly. It's been like watching a horror movie to see her live the last fifteen years. Even with Rosie and all."

"She hasn't said much," the Doctor says.

"I hope she will someday," Wilf replies. "My poor girl."

"You make it sound like she suffered a lot," the Doctor says. "What happened?"

"She tried to kill herself a couple of times before she found out she was pregnant," Wilf says. "But for god's sake don't tell her I told you."

The Doctor is horrified. "What?"

"Yeah, we had to talk her out of it a few times," Wilf says. "Luckily she spoke up every time, but--"

"Every time? How many times was this?"

"Four," Wilf says. "Twice within the first year or so. She kept insisting that she had no reason to live. And this was before Shaun and the wedding." Wilf grimaces. "She was so matter-of-fact about it. She said she'd obviously lost everything and was insane and had no reason to stay alive any longer. She used to sneak out to the garden at night when she thought I couldn't hear her crying. She used to look through my telescope for hours, but she never could say what she was looking for."

Donna comes into the room with a plate of cheese and crackers. "Stilton?" she asks, her eyes twinkling with happiness. The Doctor and Wilf are both looking at her with such tenderness, the Doctor's face a bit helpless with love. Donna's smile fades a little. "What is it?"

"Oh, nothing," Wilf says. "We were just discussing something."

"Oh," Donna says. "Have a snack, Grandad, it's an appetizer. We'll be at the table in ten minutes. D'you want to eat outside?"

"Sure," Wilf says. "Go on, roll me outside now so I can enjoy the garden while you get ready. Don't you want my help?"

"Absolutely not," Donna says, smiling again.

The Doctor helps Wilf back into his wheelchair and rolls him outside to the table on the patio. He pats Wilf on the shoulder and goes back into the kitchen where Donna is plating up big clouds of mashed potatoes and topping them with chicken and vegetables. She sprinkles fresh parsley on top with a mock flourish and says, "Dinner is served, monsieur."

He takes the little container of herbs out of her hand, buries his hands in her hair, and kisses her thoroughly. Donna relaxes into him after a moment, and when he lets her go she's a little shiny-eyed. "What was that for?" she asks.

"For being here," the Doctor says simply. He picks up two of the plates. "Come on, Donna Noble. Another ordinary night awaits us."

They give Wilf half a glass of wine since he isn't technically supposed to be drinking with his medications, but Donna doesn't have the heart to deny him at least a few sips of the best French vintage they have to offer. The evening is balmy and warm, populated with crickets and cicadas singing in the foliage. They talk and laugh and eat cake, and Wilf stays up until about midnight. Around then he asks the Doctor for a lift back to London instead of staying the night, and murmurs, "I've got a photo album for you." So Donna kisses her grandfather goodnight and lets her two favorite men go off on a ship through space and time, knowing soon enough the Doctor will be back. Wilf's hands are full of fresh green beans in a bag and an extra slice of cake in a tupperware container.

When the Doctor returns he's holding a leather-bound photo album and a little box. Donna has finished the dishes and put away the food and is sitting in the kitchen with another glass of wine and her laptop, just browsing Facebook idly. So he joins her at the table and says, "Look what Wilf gave me."

Donna looks up from her screen and says, "Oh, that's his photo album!" She looks happy. "He loves that old book."

"He said he wanted me to look through it," the Doctor says. "Maybe we can do that."

"What's that?" Donna asks, pointing to the small box.

"Ah," the Doctor says. He pushes the box towards her. "That, is for you."

"From Grandad?"

"No," he says. "From me." He regards her with a bit of trepidation, his tongue braced against his bottom lip.

"Oh, you don't have to--" Donna opens the box and stops. "That's a ring, Spaceman," she says, looking up at him.

"It's not a wedding ring," he hastens to assure her. "it's not an engagement ring or anything like that. It's just... a ring. Made it for you on the TARDIS. I was just thinking."

"It's gorgeous," Donna says, as the low kitchen light catches the stone and metal. It's an exquisite blue sapphire, round and perhaps a carat and a half in weight, set in yellow gold flanked with finely tooled blossoms on either side. Small, perfect diamonds wink at their centers.

Blue for her eyes, blue for the TARDIS, blue for the limitless sky they travel together, and flowers because ever since he met her his path has been strewn with them. He wishes the same for her, since she has brought joy and beauty into his life again.

"It's not a wedding ring," he says again, and Donna takes the ring out of the box. She hands it to him.

"You were the first man to put a ring on me," she says. "It's only fitting you should be the last."

He gives her a speaking look, his eyes full of many emotions, and Donna expects him to pick up her left hand. Instead he goes for her right hand, sliding the ring onto her ring finger and kissing the back of her hand reverently. "So you remember that you're here by choice," he says, tugging her left ring finger gently. "And that you are my right hand."

"I am here by choice," Donna says, a few big tears springing up and rolling down her face. "Sorry," she adds. "I wasn't expecting that." She gets up to get a napkin to wipe her eyes and the Doctor follows her to the counter. She wraps him up tight around his middle. "I don't care about your ship or your time travel or any of it," she says, resting her head against his chest. "I just want you. I choose you."

He props his chin on the top of her head. "Thanks," he says quietly. "I know it's only been a week--"

"Oh, I think Shaun might have made his mind up a while ago," Donna says, her voice a bit unsteady. "I don't blame him. I don't want him to be sad. I don't want him to think I picked UNIT over him."

"You picked me over him," the Doctor says. "Whether you realized it or not, you did. And he saw it. He could have chosen to stay, but then what?"

"I had the same thought," Donna says. She doesn't dispute him. "Where is the line between us?" she asks. "What would I have done? Have two husbands? Worn two rings and pretended like you were a boarder or something? Imagine what Nerys would have to say. I bet she already has the rumor mill at full speed back in London."

"D'you think she'll put a move on Shaun?" the Doctor asks.

"He'd rather eat his own foot," Donna says with certainty, and the Doctor bursts out laughing. Donna sighs. "He's such a good bloke. He's good, down to his bones. He accepted me for who I was, he didn't blame me the way I blamed myself. He stayed when I gave away the money. He stayed when Rose transitioned, and he loves her still just as much. He works hard, and he cares about his family."

"Do you miss him?" the Doctor asks.

"Of course," Donna says. "Yes. But not in a way that would make me want to force him back here. He said he doesn't want this." She sighs, inhaling the scent of his soap and cologne, Earth habits he'd picked up long before he met her. The dual heartbeats thump in concert against her ear. "I s'pose there really is no line between us, eh, Spaceman?" she murmurs.

"Nah," he says, and she can hear his voice resonating in his chest. "Who needs it?" His hands move in comforting circles on her back. "Would you want both of us?"

Donna laughs against him. "Who has time or energy for that?"

"Ah, well," the Doctor says. "I'd rather have you entirely to myself anyway. Don't really want to share."

"Would you have?"

"Of course, if you wanted," the Doctor says. "I would have done anything for you. Anything to keep you in my life. Even stayed away, if that's what you wanted."

"Impossible," Donna says.

"I would also have given up the sex if that's what you wanted and just been your friend."

"Impossible," Donna repeats, and he smiles to himself, glad that she can't see the relief and triumph on his face.

"That's quite hot," he says, tapping her behind lightly and letting her go. "So. Hope you like the ring."

Donna looks down at her hand. "I love it," she says, and she means it. "I will wear it forever."

The next morning Donna reports to the London headquarters of UNIT for work, dropped off as usual by the Doctor in the TARDIS. She makes it her business to get her morning work done quickly, and goes to the Transport Division garage around lunch time. There she quietly puts Shaun's CV and a job application in, and in a week he's been hired as a Transport Supervisor at a salary of seventy-five thousand pounds a year.

Shaun will never know it was Donna who got him hired.

Rose visits every other weekend, always happy to see her mother and always willing to update both the Doctor and Donna on how her father is doing. She tells them about the new job at UNIT, and how Shaun is thriving in his position as supervisor, and how he seems to be settling into the house without Donna more easily than expected. The Doctor leaves Donna and her daughter to talk in Rose's room.

"The two of you should talk," Rose says to her mother. "He's doing okay, but I know he's sad."

"Does he want to talk to me?" Donna asks. "He seemed so final about everything. Like he didn't have anything left to say to me." The thought makes her throat close with grief. "I didn't know what he'd want," she finishes.

"I think he just wants to settle down into a life that's not going to keep being upended," Rose says. "And I can't say I blame him, Mum. We... you did sort of make his life chaos."

To Rose's surprise, tears start to well in her mother's eyes. "I know," Donna says. "I know. It was wrong of me." She wipes her eyes. "Is he angry at me?"

"No," Rose says. "He misses you. But he told me he has no regrets."

Donna lowers her head for a moment. "I hope he knows that I love him anyway."

"Yeah," Rose says, and she feels like she could cry too. "He does. He says he loves you, but that he stepped back for a reason."

There is a little silence. "All right," Donna says. "This is a conversation I can have with him when I see him again. Your birthday is coming up. I want to have a party for you here and your father should be part of it." She sighs. "What is he doing with himself outside of work?"

"He's got friends," Rose says. "He goes down the pub on Wednesdays and last week he took Grandad with him for trivia. He's joined a football league at work, too." She notices her mother seems relieved to hear it.

"And school? How are you?"

Rose shrugs a bit. "You've seen my grades."

"Yes, but your friends? Are they treating you all right?"

"Mum, it's light years away from public school in London," Rose says. "There are other girls like me around. It's just another world."

"And you're happy?" Donna asks.

"Mum, you ask me this all the time," Rose says, smiling. "I'm happy. I'm happy there. I can be myself. And I'm safe."

"All right," Donna says. "I can't ask for anything more."

Rose's eyes fall on Donna's right hand. "What a gorgeous ring," she says. "Where did you get this?"

Donna's eyes go to the Doctor before she can help herself, and Rose smiles. "He has very good taste, doesn't he?" She sees the glow of happiness in her mother's smile, something that she had rarely seen in the past. There is an emptiness about her that has been filled, a sense of completion. Donna just looks... different.

They spend a quiet weekend together, the three of them taking a few trips locally to sit by the river for a picnic. Sunday night Donna is standing in the kitchen cooking while Rose and the Doctor are sitting in the garden, talking rather seriously if their postures are any indication. From inside the warm, airy kitchen, Donna thinks she'll never leave this little French outpost as long as she lives.

The nights are starting to cool off as they approach mid-October, so Rose is wearing a giant hoodie over her clothes and sitting bunched up in one of the lounger chairs. She has been sitting in contented silence with the Doctor for a few minutes, just enjoying her coffee and the evening.

"So," the Doctor says. "What kind of mother is your mum?"

Rose smiles at the look in his eyes. He wants to know everything he missed. She looks over her shoulder at her mother, who is absorbed in her cooking. "She's the best mother I could have asked for in this world," Rose says, and he can tell she means it. "She has been by my side at absolutely every point in my life. She has been my strongest advocate and she has never failed me."

"That's my Donna," the Doctor says, and Rose can hear the warmth with which he says it, the easy possessiveness.

"I would be nowhere without her," Rose says. "She has always accepted me for who I am and protected me as I became myself. I'm safe with her, unconditionally, and that's all a child needs from their mother."

Safe with her, unconditionally, the Doctor thinks. That's my Donna. "What was she like when you were little?"

"The most fun!" Rose says. "She played sports with me, she taught me to read books and music, she taught me to cook and bake." Rose shrugs. "I can't remember a single hurt I had as a little kid that my mother didn't fix."

"That's my girl," the Doctor says again.

"You really love her," Rose says.

The Doctor doesn't hide the fact that he's blushing a little. "Yeah," he says. "She's safe with me, unconditionally." He points a finger at her. "And so are you, miss."

"Yeah, about that," Rose says. "I have to ask you."

"Yes?"

"Mum says you contributed some of my DNA?"

The Doctor grimaces. She had known the answer to this before the metacrisis released itself, but he has to explain it again to her now that it's gone. "Your mum underwent a biological metacrisis, yes," he says. "Her DNA and mine were fused through an energy collision that resulted in a human hybrid being created, that had her humanness and my Time Lord consciousness."

"What?" Rose asks. "So she had a baby with you?"

"No," the Doctor says. "Er... that hybrid was an adult and it grew out of a spare... body part I had lying around."

Rose's face is just like Donna's when she'd heard those words. "So... you're like starfish?" Rose asks. "You lop a bit off and a new one grows?"

It's so like what Donna had said all those years ago that the Doctor has to laugh. "Yes," he says. "In the simplest terms."

"And that means your DNA is in me too?"

"Well... it altered your mum's mind and body forever," the Doctor says. "She ended up with my consciousness too, and my DNA fused to hers. So technically... you have some of my DNA in your makeup. No 23 and Me for you, young lady."

"That's fucking weird," Rose says after a silence. "So do I have two fathers?"

"No, no, no," the Doctor hastens to assure her. "Your father is Shaun Temple. You couldn't exist without him contributing his DNA to father you. You just... have some extra makeup from me."

"So can you reproduce with humans?" Rose asks.

"No," the Doctor says. "I'm physically analogous to human males, but genetically I'm completely incompatible. Even if an egg was fertilized, it wouldn't implant or begin to develop because it lacks the necessary chromosomes."

Rose looks over her shoulder at her mother and then back to the Doctor. "So you two don't have any risk," she says, and the Doctor blushes for real this time. "Well, Mum's also fifty, so she's not getting pregnant."

"Er," the Doctor says again. "Not sure what to say to that."

"Don't," Rose says, starting to giggle like the teenage girl she is. "Don't. Gross. Ew. Disgusting."

The Doctor laughs. "Don't worry about it," he says. "It's not important anyway." He leans back comfortably in his chair. "Your mum said I should ask you about picking an Earth name."

Rose smiles at him. "Well, I picked my own name, so I'm good at that."

"That's what your mother said," the Doctor says.

"Told you, she's the best," Rose says. "What kind of name do you want?"

He shrugs. "I don't care." The fact of the matter is that Donna knows the name he grew up with, his real name, from having shared his mind. She knows that name and she never uses it because she also knows he won't say it. "Sometimes I've called myself John Smith."

Rose scrunches her nose. "Boring. John's not bad, I guess, but not Smith."

"What about Noble?" the Doctor asks. "John Noble?"

"Not bad," Rose says. "Want a middle name?"

"A what?"

"A middle name," Rose says. "My middle name is Margaret."

"Rose Margaret Noble," the Doctor muses. "Pretty. Why not Temple?"

Rose shrugs. "Just seemed... wrong. Mum was okay with it, she told Dad that it didn't really matter as long as I was happy and he'd still be my father no matter what sounds I strung together to identify myself."

That's my girl! he thinks again, so proudly. "What did he say?"

"I think he was a little hurt," Rose says. "But I've always been really clear with him about how I feel about him and that no matter what he'd always be my father and I would always love him."

"Maybe," the Doctor says. "Something with a D. Something for her."

"There's no male equivalent of Donna," Rose says. "Maybe Donald?"

"No," the Doctor grimaces. "Awful name. What about David?"

"John David Noble," Rose says. "Doctor John David Noble. Ooh, Doctor J.D. Noble. Sounds like a physicist or a famous surgeon."

So when Donna leans out the garden doors to tell them supper is ready, Rose gets up and pulls her mom outside. "I think we have an Earth name," she says.

"Oh?" Donna says. "It's about time. Let's hear it." Rose watches her smile soften as she looks at the Doctor, who gets to his feet and clears his throat.

"John David Noble," he says, making her a little bow. "Nice to meet you." He takes her hand and kisses it.

"Doctor John David Noble," Rose chimes in. "Or J.D. Noble, if you want to be mysterious about it."

"I wanted to be sure there was a D. Noble in my name," the Doctor says. He still hasn't let go of Donna.

"Well," Rose says. "I'm going to wash my hands." She sees the look that passes between her mother and the Doctor. She looks over her shoulder as she goes to the kitchen and sees the Doctor wrap her mother up in an embrace. Anyone who cares to look at them can see the devotion between them.

Around the dinner table they laugh and talk as always, and Rose has a glass of wine with them. "I'm supposed to get an assignment at work on Monday," Donna says. "My first."

"Ah," the Doctor says delightedly. "Any ideas?"

"Well, Kate has me under the impression there is a kind of social work department for UNIT?" Donna says. "She referred to it as Intergalactic Humanitarian Relations."

"That sounds good for you," Rose says. "I think you'd be amazing at that, mum. It sounds like you'd be helping people."

"Yeah," Donna says. She looks to the Doctor. "What's it mean?"

"IHR is one of the most important departments in UNIT," the Doctor says. "You'll be the first contact for a lot of people coming to Earth. Most of them will be refugees or victims of crimes. Some of them will be witness protection cases. Some of them will be accidents. It all depends." He takes a sip of wine. "Oftentimes the first contact those people have with Earth can determine their entire future."

"I assume this means I'll need more familiarity with the Intergalactic Code as it pertains to those issues," Donna says. "Have to study up."

"That and the policies on assimilation, protection, identity classification," the Doctor says. "Lots to learn."

"Sounds like school, but infinitely more interesting," Rose says.

"Yeah, better than algebra," Donna says.

"Having bamboo shoved under my fingernails would be better than algebra," Rose says, and everyone laughs.

"You need a maths tutor?" the Doctor asks.

"I don't know why," Rose grumbles. "If my DNA is part-genius, maths should be easier."

Rose goes to bed around eleven PM, and Donna follows the Doctor to the TARDIS parked in the back, where they go to the library and pull out the Intergalactic Code, the Interplanetary Refugee Charter, the Shadow Proclamation's Manual on Interstellar Diplomacy, and several textbooks on the theory of interspecies assimilation and cultural diffusion. There are language manuals and translations for countless cultures contained in Interstellar Diplomacy. It's a massive amount of information. UNIT has designated the Doctor as Donna's training supervisor, so she will take her training aboard the TARDIS and attend in-person seminars as instructed. All told, the department trains for three months after the initial six-month probationary period. This means Donna has reached the end of her probationary hire and is officially appointed to IHR for her 90 days of training.

"We have some options," the Doctor says, spreading the books out in front of them on the big table in the TARDIS library. "We can read, of course."

"Right," Donna says. "And what else?"

"We could... use the psychic connection," the Doctor suggests, raising his eyebrows. "We'd have to go slow to avoid a headache, but you can technically just... learn what I know."

Donna's eyebrows also raise. "And it saves us all the reading?"

"Technically, yes."

"Spaceman," Donna says. "How long have you known me now? Do you think that if I can save myself some trouble I won't go for that option immediately?"

The Doctor grins. "Come here, Donna Noble. Sit down."

"Doctor J.D. Noble," Donna teases him as she settles herself on the sofa. Her smile is full of affection and mirth. "Where'd you get your PhD?"

"Right," he says, tweaking her nose gently. "You'll get used to it soon." He sits down next to her on the sofa and turns her to face him. He touches his fingertips to her temples and Donna flinches away, fast as lightning.

"Ow," she says, and the smile falls off his face.

"Oh, sorry--" he says, and Donna grins.

"Just kidding," she says. "Just payback for that gloop." She settles herself again and gives him a cheeky look before closing her eyes again. His fingers descend on her temples again, and she reaches out to do the same for him. They entrain onto the connection immediately, like stepping from one room to another, and the Doctor can feel Donna's bright, electric, joyful presence in his mind. He feels wrapped in her consciousness like a warm embrace, as always.

Right, he says to her in their minds. I'm going to transmit the contents of the Intergalactic Code. I'll go slow.

Good luck, Donna says.

Tell me if it hurts, he says, and Donna's eyebrows raise but she doesn't open her eyes.

Hurts?

You could get a headache if we go too fast, he responds. Get ready.

He keeps his word about going slowly, so much so that at one point Donna interjects and says, You can't speed it up a little?

Instead of an answer or any acceleration in transmission, the Doctor adds on a second layer of image and sensation, so that Donna gets a full picture of them having sex on the library floor, their clothes scattered around them. That's what I really want, he says. I'll be done soon.

Ooh, that's a nice multitask, Donna says. That'll make this much more fun.

So instead of making his transmission faster, the Doctor simply retains the second layer of sex and sensation to it. By the time he's finished with the code and is sure that Donna has absorbed it, both of them are a little out of breath when they open their eyes. "Right," he says, smiling at her with intent. "Now for your quiz."

He asks her as many questions as he can think of regarding interplanetary refugee policy and cultural crossovers. He quizzes her on the duties of the officers of IHR and where they are limited in their jurisdiction and why. When they get done, Donna settles herself on the sofa comfortably and says, "You do realize, of course, that this makes you my first and most important case?" Her smile is languid and content.

"Oi," the Doctor says indignantly. "I'm not a case, I'm your favorite person to ever exist!" Off her teasing smile he adds, "I don't think caseworkers are supposed to have my cock between their tits on a Wednesday night."

Donna laughs uproariously. "Fair play, Spaceman," she says. "But no, seriously, you're my case number one. My most important, my most personal. My most precious."

"Ah," the Doctor says, waving a hand. "But your file on me is top secret anyway, so it doesn't count."

"Shall we do another?" Donna asks, picking up Interstellar Diplomacy.

"If you like," the Doctor says.

"Yeah, and this time can you also do the sex thing again?" Donna asks. "It's much more fun that way."

It takes about three and a half minutes to transmit the entirety of Interstellar Diplomacy and its appendices, and when he's finished the Doctor leans forward and gives her an openmouthed kiss. "Done," he says. "That's enough for one sitting, you'll get a migraine."

"Well, that saves us a ton of time," Donna says, rolling her shoulders. "And it's fun. I love your active imagination, Spaceman."

"And I love this little telepathy game," he says. "Pretty great."

"Mm-hm," Donna agrees.

"I think it is very fucking hot that you can do that, Donna Noble," he tells her. "You know you're the only human alive who has this ability. Makes you special."

Donna shrugs. "All the better for me."

The Doctor leans back at his ease on the sofa and regards her contentedly. "You're gorgeous, you know."

"Shut up, Spaceman," Donna says. "You don't have to flatter me, I'm already fucking you."

"Oh, now, wait a minute," the Doctor says. "Hang on. Hear me out."

Donna smiles indulgently at him. "Go on, then."

"Do you know what it's like for me to have someone I can talk to?" he asks her. "And it's you, Donna. I missed so much time with you. And best of all you're still you but better." He gives her a once-over she can positively feel. "And you still have all that red hair." Another man would have made her blush but Donna just smiles, a million watts. "The point is," he says, "time is precious and joy is having the time to spend with those you love."

"God, if you are not the wettest, most sentimental--"

"Oh, fuck off," he says, laughing. "I love you, Donna."

She reaches over and picks up his hand and kisses it, lingering for a moment with her vivid blue eyes locked with his. "I love you, Spaceman," she says. "Don't leave me again, eh?"

"You don't leave me," he says. "C'mon, let's go to bed." They lock up the TARDIS and go back into the house together, hand in hand. He's made a nightly habit of going to bed with her, even if he doesn't stay or sleep. The routine is comforting for both of them. Tonight they decide to sleep in her room.

The Doctor changes his clothes and watches Donna shed her clothes and get into pajamas. She brushes her hair through and goes to wash her face and brush her teeth in the ensuite. Just the sheer ordinariness of these actions is inexpressibly comforting to him. No more desolate silences or dark, solitary years. Just the chance to breathe and live in the present, surrounded by comfort. Donna comes back into the room massaging a bit of lotion into her hands and arms and elbows. She climbs under the duvet and holds out her arms. "Come."

He settles himself in her arms, resting his head on her chest. "I hope you stop thinking about how much time you lost," she murmurs to him, placing a kiss or two to the top of his head among the wild spikes of his hair. "It doesn't matter."

He listens to her single heartbeat, his most tangible reminder that she's human, and temporary, and he wants her to stay. He sighs. "I just don't want to lose any more time," he says. "It's been so much."

"And now we've had six months," Donna says. "And four of me living here permanently."

"Best time of my life," he says immediately, fervently.

"Well, it's not going to change," she says. "And I'm not going anywhere. So from here on out, Spaceman, it's you and me."

"And Rosie."

"And Rosie," Donna says, laughing a little. She thinks of her daughter asleep on the floor below them in her beautiful green and blue bedroom that the Doctor had let her decorate any way she pleased. For her upcoming birthday he'd been building her a workshop in the basement of the house, a bright and spacious area with new equipment: a sewing machine, an adjustable table, a comfortable rolling chair, and all kinds of notions and trims and fabrics. He's also building her a packing station, supplied with boxes, tape, tissue paper, a label maker, anything she could imagine. Everything is immaculately organized. Even Donna doesn't know about it yet.

"Donna?" he says into the comfortable silence.

"Yeah."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"D'you... maybe want to stay young?" the Doctor asks. "Like. Not age?"

"What d'you mean?" Donna asks, looking down at him. He tilts his head up to look at her.

"I mean... slow down the cell aging process so that you don't age like other humans and live an indeterminate amount of time with all your abilities and mental and physical health intact?" His eyes are very bare, and in earnest. "I've been wanting to ask you."

"Can you explain it?" Donna asks.

The Doctor makes as if to sit up, but she stops him, too comforted by his solid presence in her arms to let him go. So instead he burrows back into her side and says, "I can do that. And that way you and I can be together for a long, long time."

Donna sighs, and the Doctor feels her fingers carding through his hair gently, comfortingly. "Does that mean I live to a hundred and fifty?" she asks.

"Oh, more like five hundred," the Doctor says and Donna's fingers stop moving.

"What?"

"Yeah," he says. "More like five hundred. Or more. Don't really know."

"What?" Donna asks again.

"You don't have to, you can forget I asked, but I just thought--"

"No, wait," Donna says. "Wait." She sits up and so does the Doctor. "Wait. So you're offering me five times the human lifespan?"

"Or more," he confirms.

"Where was this the first time around?" Donna asks.

"I was much too stupid and young and inexperienced to know what I needed then," the Doctor says. "But you're back. And I just thought I'd ask. You don't have to."

"So what does that mean?" Donna asks.

"It means you will outlive everyone. Rose, Shaun, your mum, everyone you know," the Doctor says. "It's not for the faint of heart. But then again if I thought you were fainthearted, I wouldn't have offered. My Donna can handle the prospect."

Donna nods slowly. "All right, Spaceman. Let me think about what that means."

"Are you all right with watching Rose grow old?"

"Doesn't every parent want their child to live a long, happy life?"

"Yes, but you'll be young still."

"And you won't do it for her too?" Donna asks.

"No," the Doctor says, simply and matter-of-factly. There's nothing else to say. Donna nods again.

"Right," she says. The implications of his refusal are enormous, but then the implications of their entire existence and relationship are enormous. "So only me."

"You're part of me," he says, another factual, simple statement. "And I'm part of you. That's how we ended up here. And that's all I care about ultimately."

Donna is quiet for a few moments. "You know," she says. "This is like a marriage proposal but much more serious."

"I have no plans to ask you to marry me," the Doctor says. "You know how I am about Earth rituals. Rituals in general."

"Yes," Donna says. "But you're asking me to commit to an unknown lifespan with you, because if we were ever not together, I would just be some medical miracle lady who no one knew when I was gonna die. I don't want that. And I don't want to live indefinitely without you. So you'd have to be able to assure me we'd be together, because I can't live centuries without you. There's no point. I'd be lost."

"Right," the Doctor says.

"So I get to keep you?" Donna asks, her palms turned upwards in a gesture of inquiry.

"You will never lose me," he says, and the truth of the statement rings in its simplicity.

"Well," she says. "Then what else is there?"

He practically knocks her over with the force of his embrace. "Fuck's sake," Donna says softly to him. "You're mine, Spaceman. You can have a happy ending."

There is a short silence and then he bursts into heartrending sobs, more forceful than she has ever seen from him. She knows he works hard to keep himself in check, and the most she'd ever witnessed was a few tears, but this is real. She clutches him close, curling her fingers into his back until her knuckles are white. "I'm here," she murmurs. "I'm not going anywhere, I'm here."

He makes very little noise, but she can feel how the sobs wrack his body, the way his chest and stomach heave and wrench with the pain. She rocks him just a little, resting her cheek on top of his head. She wants to end the pain for him but she also knows he needs the catharsis. So she rides it out with him, never once letting go of him, only shifting to murmur softly to him or kiss his head or redouble her embrace. When he starts to calm down, she presses her fingers to his temple so she can send him comforting sensations and images. He refuses to reciprocate the connection to spare her the onslaught of emotions. "You're the only one," he says to her, his voice hoarse. "You're the only one that can do this for me."

"Do what for you?" Donna asks gently.

"Make me feel better," he says simply. "I don't know what I would do without you anymore." He sits up and takes both her hands in his. "If I'm going to live it has to be with you. I need you. I couldn't tell you that the first time because I had nothing to lose. Now I have everything and I need you. That's why I asked you."

"So what was that?" Donna asks. "Me saying yes made you cry."

"Relief," he says to her earnestly. "It's relief. I was terrified I'd have to watch you grow old and die married to another man, and when he left you I didn't dare hope, but now--" He sighs a great sigh and rubs his face. "I don't have to worry anymore. We can just be."

"I did wonder about that," Donna says. Then she gives him a little smile. "Too bad you couldn't have stopped me fifteen years ago, eh?"

"Oh, you look exactly the same," he says.

"You fucking liar," Donna says solemnly, and he laughs a little through his tears. "It's more about my knees and my back than my hair," she adds.

"Ah, I'll take care of that," the Doctor says, waving a hand. He reaches out to cup her cheek. "Take all the time you need," he says. "It's not a snap decision." He can feel how Donna turns her face into his palm, seeking comfort he knows she's been without. He leans forward to kiss her gently on the lips. "Take all the time you need," he says again. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Can't take too long or I'll get even older," Donna says.

"You don't mind stopping at fifty," the Doctor says.

"No, I like myself," Donna says, and she can say that honestly now. "I know who I am, I love being a mother, and I love my work." She settles herself back among her pillows and holds out her arms. "Come back."

So he wraps himself around her again and breathes another great sigh of relief. "Tale your time," he tells her. "It's on offer. I just don't want to live without you."

In the morning they drop Rose off at school together. Just before they open the doors to the UNIT London office, the Doctor takes Donna's hand. "See you later?" he asks.

"Obviously," Donna quips, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You'll have to explain this whole slowdown process to me when I get back."

"Don't worry," he says. "You'll get the full information."

"Oh, I know that," Donna says, and kisses his smiling mouth. "See you later."

He's had to learn to distract himself in different ways while Donna is working, so the Doctor has joined a local engineering club in a town about an hour north of Montresor. After attending a few meetings and deciding they're a good group of people, the Doctor had discovered at the last meeting that one of them was his neighbor. His name is Laurence Miller, and the Doctor had also met his wife Simone at the last meeting when she came to pick him up. They are both about sixty, married for forty years, have three kids who are all grown up and left the nest, and a retired life in the countryside after living in Paris and Nice for most of their earlier lives.

For an experiment in his ongoing trial of living like an ordinary human, the Doctor plans to invite Laurence and Simone for dinner that Friday evening. When he runs the idea by Donna at the end of her workday, her eyes actually fill up.

"Oh, Spaceman, you made a friend," she says proudly.

"Oh, fuck's sake," the Doctor says, grinning. "I have lots of friends."

"No, but," Donna says. "You made a friend that you can be a friend with for a long time. Someone who can stay around. Who is he?"

"His name is Laurence Miller, and he has a wife called Simone, and he's part of my engineering club," the Doctor says.

"What does he call you?"

"John, mostly," the Doctor says. "Jean-Davide doesn't really trip off the tongue, and the French rarely abbreviate. And 'le Docteur' is a bit off-putting."

Donna laughs as she circles the console, the flight sequence automatic under her fingers. "What do you think we should make?"

"They said they'd be interested in anything we have to offer," the Doctor says. "So I'd say priority number one is good wine."

"Ah, but of course," Donna says, in an exaggerated French accent. "Life is pain, zat is why we have wine."

"Exactly," he says. "I'll make lamb shanks and potatoes and you can handle dessert." He adjusts several dials. "Can you make more of that fresh whipped cream with the vanilla?"

"'Course," Donna says.

"Make extra," the Doctor says, giving her a smile full of intent.

"Right," Donna says, catching his drift. She throws the thrust lever and they take off with a smooth boost.

"You're so good at that," he says. "Great takeoff. If you can land her just as nice as me I'll let you fly her solo."

"Let me?" Donna raises an eyebrow. "Mate, I don't want to fly this ship without you unless it's an emergency."

"Fair enough," he says, and Donna turns her attention back to the console to prepare for landing. She manages it with a slight thud, and gives the Doctor a smile and shrug.

"That was easy," she says.

"Smug," the Doctor says.

"Fucking right," Donna says, and walks to the doors of the TARDIS. "I am going to change my clothes and collapse in front of the telly, what d'you say?"

"Telly's a bit boring for me," he says. "I'll sit with you but I'll probably do something else."

"Fair enough," Donna agrees.

They end up with Donna draped over him on the sofa, both of them covered with the same blanket, limbs tangled. He has a book and she is watching a nature documentary narrated by David Attenborough. Donna listens to his heartbeats thrumming in concert, steady and calm. He feels solid, and less thin than he had been before. Well, she'd been sure to feed him rich meals and good wine, and ate all his experiments in the kitchen with him. She'd made him a regular at the patisserie and the boulangerie for bread and sweets. Between the sound of David Attenborough's voice and the steady drum of his heartbeats, Donna is lulled to sleep.

The Doctor notes the slower rhythm of her breath and moves his book aside to look down at the redheaded woman in his arms. Now moments like this don't have to be secret, confined to the TARDIS, snatched in moments of brief reprieve where the knowledge thereof could destroy their privacy. Now he can just be with her. So he tilts his head down to press a kiss to her head and goes back to his book. If he can have this, keep this... it will be all he needs.

When Friday rolls around the Doctor spends most of it cooking and shopping while Donna is at work. It's Shaun's week to have Rose in London so they are free for the weekend.

Donna, meanwhile, has been given her first cases as part of the IHR department. That day she witnesses shivering refugees from a war on a planet located in a star system adjacent to the Milky Way Galaxy. There are about 45 of them, mostly children, blank-eyed and numb. With Donna are a second agent from her department, and a team of nurses, doctors, and therapists. The refugees are people from the planet Harbara, which has been historically a target of invasion due to its location in its star system. Another invasion has taken place, this time by a more advanced civilization, and they are the last of their city. Donna is responsible for processing their intake, and helping to direct them to housing and medical care. She knows everything she needs to thanks to her training and the Doctor's work with her, but the impact of seeing these people leaves her shaken. They are confused and terrified, hungry, some injured, others seeming to have lost their grip on reality. One little girl won't talk to her at all, but only cries, clinging to Donna like a mother. That little girl has a bloody wound on her arm that stains Donna's shirt purple, but she won't speak. The nurses take her from Donna, whose eyes are streaming tears, and another IHR agent called Danielle Charles, a veteran of the department, reminds her to get herself together.

"You can cry later," Danielle whispers to her. "They need you now. Be strong." Her own voice is a little unsteady, and Donna breathes in and out a few times.

"Yeah," she says. "Let's help."

The intake lasts the rest of her workday, and when Donna finally gets back to her office, she is exhausted and worn out. She takes her things and goes to the garage to wait for the Doctor to arrive, which he always does, right on time. Almost as soon as the TARDIS wheezes into view Donna breaks down. She gets her key out and goes into the ship, shutting the door behind her and leaning on it.

His face, in his usual big bright smile to see her again, falls right away. "Oh," he says. "What happened, Donna?" He sees the bloodstains on her shirt and neck. "Oh, no. Come here." He wraps her up tight. "What happened?"

For a moment she considers telling him about the invasion. But she knows in her bones that her Spaceman will want to help, will want to go to Harbara and fix it, and that can't happen. So instead she turns her face into his chest and lets the tears fall, curling her fingers into the fabric of his shirt. He doesn't ask any more questions until she lets go of him. "Just work," she says. "Saw a lot of hard things today."

"Like what?"

Donna shakes her head. "Don't want to talk about it."

"Donna--"

"No," she says, cutting him off. "I don't want to tell you. You'll want to go running off to fix it and I can't have that, I need you--"

"Okay," he says gently. "Okay. Let's go home, then." He starts to circle the console. "You don't have to help me fly."

Silently Donna ignores him and starts to assist in the flight sequence. She throws the lever before he can and stands wordlessly, watching the central column of the TARDIS glow blue-white, its components working away. "D'you want to cancel dinner tonight?" the Doctor asks.

"No," Donna says. "It'll distract me. When are they coming?"

"About eight thirty, I think," he says. He kisses her temple and slips an arm around her as they wait for the TARDIS to land.

"Okay," she says. "It's fine, I'll be fine as long as I have you."

When they land in the garden in France, Donna goes straight to the bathroom to wash off. "There's no weird alien disease I can catch from this blood, is there?" she asks as she scrubs herself at the sink.

The Doctor, perched on the bathroom countertop, shakes his head. "It's just blood, like yours and mine."

"It's purple," Donna says.

"Yes, less oxygenated."

"Is our air safe for them to breathe?"

"Sure," the Doctor says. "Whoever it was might be a little lightheaded at first, but they'll adjust."

"What color is your blood?" Donna asks.

"Red, like yours," the Doctor says. "Maybe redder, with the two hearts and all. More oxygen being processed."

Donna flings her stained shirt aside and strips off the rest of her clothes. "Might as well change for dinner," she says. "I'm thinking I'll make a strawberry cake for dessert."

"Ah, what a good vehicle for that whipped cream I like so much," the Doctor says, attempting to lighten the mood. Donna smiles a little bit. "There's my girl," he adds.

Her bundle of clothes in one arm and her other hand holding his, Donna pulls him into the bedroom with her and seats him on her bed. She goes to her closet and pulls out two dresses. "Purple or blue?" she asks.

"Neither," he says, and Donna turns to put the dresses back. "Something else?"

"Nope," he says, looking her over. She smiles at him.

"Spaceman," she says. "You're no help."

"Thank you," he says. He gets up and slides his hands around her hips. "I like the purple," he says, giving her the lightest kiss. "You can wear that one without a bra."

"Spaceman," Donna repeats, scandalized and delighted as he goes out of the room.

"What?" he asks innocently over his shoulder. "No pants either, all the better," he calls as he starts down the stairs.

She hears him thump merrily down the stairs and smiles to herself. She decides to wear pants after all but no bra, just for him. She can always put a sweater on.

Down in the kitchen the Doctor starts to prepare his lamb shanks and potatoes, and Donna joins him, retrieving her apron from the pantry. "Ah, perfect," he says, turning from the pile of potatoes on the counter. "Just the way I like it." He reaches out and nudges the neckline of the dress aside so that one pink nipple is exposed. "Leave it like that."

"Spaceman," Donna says a third time. "There is fire in this room. Do not subject my breasts to fire. I thought that went without saying. It's a ground rule."

He laughs and leans down to kiss her nipple, pulling the fabric back into place. "Fair enough," he says. "Take what I can get." He slants her a cheeky look. "I'm determined to distract you tonight."

"It will be appreciated," Donna says. "Meanwhile, who are these people you've invited to our home?"

"Laurence is about sixty, I'd say?" the Doctor says. "So's his wife."

"Yeah, and they call you John," Donna says. "I'm gonna have to practice."

"Oh, speaking of that," the Doctor says, and Donna turns from the fridge where she is getting out the ingredients for a cake. "I know how you can practice." He dances her back against the kitchen island and hooks his fingers in her neckline again, dropping his mouth to her neck and collarbone. His hands pull her skirt up her thighs and his fingers skim between her legs. "Oh, you did wear pants," he says, lifting his mouth from her neck.

"I did-- oh, yes," she says when he runs his tongue along her throat. He's an expert at this now in a new way, a better way than before. He always did what she liked but now he can get her off fast and efficiently and deliciously. He sucks a nipple up into his mouth, laving it thoroughly. She doesn't say many more words until he feels her wind up and her mouth opens.

"Say my fucking name," he says to her, and Donna's eyes squeeze shut in utter pleasure.

"Oh, John," she moans. "Oh, fuck, yes."

"Amazing," he tells her, continuing the motion of his hand. "Sounds fucking great."

Donna gives him a lustful little smile. "You like it?"

"I love it," he says. "it was a good choice of a name." He pulls his hand out from under her dress and Donna covers herself back up. "There. Now you've practiced."

Donna goes back to the refrigerator. "I'll work on it," she says. "We'll need to do a bit more practice as we go." She sets out her ingredients: milk, eggs, butter, sugar, flour. She has an expensive stand mixer on the kitchen island and she whips up a simple sponge in no time. While her cakes are baking and the lamb shanks sautéing in the pan, Donna changes out her bowl and adds fresh vanilla and a bit of vanilla extract to a saucepan of cream on low heat to let the bean infuse the cream. When she's happy with it, she puts the cream in the mixer with sugar and whips it until there are stiff peaks.

The Doctor moves around her efficiently and within two hours there is a meal and a strawberry shortcake thickly frosted with whipped cream. Donna retrieves two bottles from their wine storage cabinet and the Doctor sets out four wine glasses. Then he faces Donna and holds out a hand. "John Noble," he says.

Donna looks down at his hand.

"Practice," he says.

"Donna Noble," she says, without shaking his hand.

"Rude," he says, shaking his head at her. "Can't even shake a bloke's hand after he's had it in your knickers."

Their doorbell chimes, and they both look to the front door.

"Perfect timing," Donna says, grinning. She goes for the door and on the threshold is an attractive older couple, smiling and holding a shopping bag. "Hello!" she says.

"Hello, darling," says Simone, the wife, and she and Laurence give Donna the customary two kisses on each cheek.

"Come in, come in," Donna says. "John's in the kitchen." She commends herself for how naturally she said his name. She makes Simone and Laurence comfortable in their living room, and they hand her the bag which turns out to be filled with cheese and bread, which she puts out for an appetizer. She pours everyone a glass of wine and seats herself comfortably with the couple.

The Doctor comes in to join them a minute later, taking a glass of wine from Donna and smiling contentedly. He seats himself next to her on the arm of her chair, one arm around her. "Welcome to the house!" he says to Laurence and Simone. "We've done lamb shanks, potatoes, Brussels sprouts, and strawberry shortcake."

"Ah," Laurence says, raising a glass. "Sounds perfect."

"Tell us about yourselves," Donna says. "We're so glad you're here."

"Well," Laurence says. "As you know I met your husband at our engineering club. He's extremely smart."

"Thank you," Donna says proudly, not bothering to correct the mistake as she would have previously. Even back then she'd been starting to give up, since everyone seemed to take for granted that she and the Doctor were married, even without rings. It doesn't matter anymore.

"He told me the two of you just moved here a few months ago," Laurence continues. "How are you liking our little French outback?"

Donna smiles. "I love it here. Private, quiet, everything we could ask for."

Simone nods. "That's what drew us here too when we retired. After our youngest son left home, we decided no more Paris."

"How many children do you have?" Donna asks.

"Three, two sons and a daughter," Simone says. "The youngest is twenty-six now, so we've done our jobs. Do you two have children?"

"I have a daughter from my first relationship," Donna says. "With my ex-husband. She's fifteen. And we don't plan on having any children." She looks to the Doctor. "John, what d'you say we light the fire pit and have all this wine and cheese outside?"

"I'll help you with that," Simone says, and she and Donna start to gather the wine and food. The Doctor opens the garden doors and goes to check on his lamb shanks. Laurence follows him to the kitchen.

Out in the garden, where the late October air is mellow and cool, Donna arranges the food and wine and takes the top off the fire pit. Simone stops her, taking her right hand. "What a magnificent ring," she says, looking at the sapphire. "And flowers, how lovely."

Donna smiles. "Yeah, he gave it to me about a month ago," she says.

"Ah, so you are married to a romantic," Simone says. "Lucky you."

"Isn't Laurence a romantic?" Donna asks. "John tells me you've been married forty years."

"Oh, yes," Simone says. "I never would have married him if he didn't have poetry in his soul."

"Well said," Donna smiles, arranging the wooden logs in the fire pit. It's a big round structure made of stacked stones and mortar, polished and rustic looking. She pulls out a long match and strikes it, setting a pile of tinder under the logs aflame. "There we go. Give her a few minutes and she'll be big and bright." One of her sweaters is already draped over the garden chair from earlier that day, so Donna puts it on over her dress. She makes herself comfortable with Simone and smiles. "Welcome."

"Merci, darling," Simone says. "You look very happy."

Donna takes a sip of wine through a smile. "I have, in fact, never been so happy in my life."

"Well, what woman doesn't want the privilege of saying that sentence?" Simone toasts Donna, who clinks glasses with her. "To loving the love of your life."

"Hear, hear," Donna says, looking back over her shoulder at the men in the kitchen. This little masquerade as an ordinary happy family is so achingly needed by Donna, who has waited so very long to feel this feeling. They are talking animatedly about something scientific, no doubt, and Donna smiles softly. He needs friends so badly, friends with no obligations or strings or betrayals. In all honesty, so does she.

"How long have you been married now?" Simone asks.

"Oh..." Donna says. "It's a very long story."

"Oh?" Simone says. "Do you care to share it?"

Donna takes a great deep breath. "I met him fifteen years ago, before my daughter was born, and he... we... fell in love. Tried to deny it. And then we were separated by force and we lived our lives apart, and he found me seven months ago."

"Oh, my god," Simone says, putting her glass down. "He came back."

"He came back," Donna says, and the enormity of it chokes her for a moment because she's seeing it from someone else's perspective since it all happened, and recanting it makes her realize she hasn't been living in a dream for nearly a year. She clears her throat. "Sorry," she says.

"That's quite a story," Simone says. "No wonder the two of you are so closed off here. Your home is like an enclave. A lovely hideaway."

"Yes," Donna says. That is entirely deliberate, even beyond the rules of UNIT for their safety. "I don't think we've really recovered from being apart for so long. We just don't want to be disturbed."

"How incredible," Simone says. "How did he find you?"

"I think he was looking," Donna says, and while that's not strictly true, it's how it had evidently played out. "And I just knew I had to be with him. He's part of me. There's no line." Then she seems to realize she's been pouring her heart out to this lady who barely knows her. "Excuse me," she says, a bit sheepishly. "I know I'm gushing--"

"Oh, no," Simone says. "Do you think I don't know what a woman in love looks like? It's lovely. I wish you happiness and peace, you've clearly earned it."

If you only knew, Donna thinks. Sometimes she sits in her garden and just looks at things. She knows that she is even still alive because of her own heroic actions, though she never seems able to really absorb that fact. It's part of why she's still so surprised to be so thoroughly loved by this brilliant man. She has never truly absorbed that she has saved the actual entire universe before in her life. Even without that he would love her, but that's an idea Donna can't yet accept. Maybe now knowing that she had saved everyone everywhere at one point in her life, even if it cost her half of herself, gives her a reason to think maybe she's earned his love and this life.

"Well surely you can see him with Laurence," Simone says. "He's alive with joy." The men are laughing in the kitchen while the Doctor plates the food for everyone.

"Yeah," Donna says. "Isn't he just." She's so glad. She looks back at Simone. "Me too."

"Mesdames," Laurence pokes his head out the garden doors. "Shall we eat around the fire?"

"We can do that," Donna calls back. "Do you need help?"

Laurence shakes his head. "No," he says. "You stay there. Entertain my wife. She gets up to no good when she's bored." He goes back inside the kitchen. "Your wife is quite a lady!" he says to the Doctor, who smiles proudly and doesn't bother correcting him.

"Isn't she just," he agrees.

"How long have you been married now?" Laurence asks.

"Tell you the truth, mate," the Doctor says. "We only found each other again seven months ago."

"Again?" Laurence says. "You were separated?"

The smile on the Doctor's face fades. "Yeah," he says. "And I didn't... I don't think either of us ever thought we would see each other again, but I had to look for her. I had to know she was all right."

"That's quite a love story," Laurence says. "If you don't mind me asking you, what separated you?"

"War," the Doctor says, which is as close to the truth as he can get.

Laurence's smile fades. "Oh," he says. "Forgive me, you don't have to say anything else."

The Doctor shakes his head. "Sorry for bringing the tone of the evening down. Why don't we get out there?"

Laurence puts a hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "You don't have to worry about that. Simone and I have always been grateful for our boring lives." He and the Doctor go out with two plates each, and join Donna and Simone around the fire.

And for the next few hours they laugh and talk with Simone and Laurence like any ordinary people, until around one in the morning. They've shifted position so that the Doctor is sitting behind Donna with his arms around her. "We'd best get on the road," Simone says, yawning. "What excellent wine."

"Thank you," Donna says, a bit tipsy herself. Laurence, ever the responsible driver, has nursed a glass for the last hour or so.

"You light an excellent fire," Simone says, getting to her feet. "An evening to be applauded."

Donna makes a little bow, and she and the Doctor see Simone and Laurence to the door. Once they're in the car and driven away, Donna turns to the Doctor. "So, John," she says playfully. "Did you like our little performance tonight? Our Regular People Show?"

"You did very well," he says, and Donna makes another little bow.

"And so did you, Spaceman," she says. "If I didn't know better I'd say you had a good time."

"Ah, but luckily you know better," he jokes, and Donna nods.

"I do," she says. "No, but really. Did you? We can do it again." She watches him go back to the garden to gather the dishes instead of answering her. "We can, if you want," she says again.

The Doctor puts the dishes into the sink. He turns to her. "You had to know that tonight was a dream come true for me," he says. "I can't remember the last time I felt so at peace." He goes back out to get the wine glasses to avoid the moment, and Donna takes them out of his hands when he gets back inside the kitchen.

"Spaceman," she says, and the word is filled with so much love. It makes him stop and listen. She's really the only person he'll listen to anyway. And it helps that she looks so pretty just then, in one of his favorite dresses with a cozy sweater over it, her hair shining in the warm kitchen light. She smells like perfume and wine and that essence that is entirely hers, one that humans can't detect but that he can, and that comforts him.

"We'll do it again eventually," he says, ambivalent about it all.

"Don't you like them?"

"Yes," the Doctor says. "Of course. Laurence is a good bloke. I just... maybe we don't really want a bunch of people around us?"

Donna smiles. "Security concerns or you just don't want to share me?"

"Call it both," he says. "In equal measure." He tilts his head towards the sink. "I'll do the dishes if you put out the fire."

"Deal," Donna says, and he watches her walk back out into their thriving garden. He watches her douse the flames and turn off the firepit, putting the round metal shell back over the top. When she walks back inside, closing the garden doors behind her, he comes to pull her back in by the waist.

"Do you really mind that it's going to be a show from here on out?" he asks her. "Everything we do as normal people is a show."

"Well, yeah," Donna says as if it's obvious. "'Course it is! No giving away the game."

"Might wear on you."

"Oh, please," Donna rolls her eyes. "It's literally the best secret in the entire universe. Why would I mind keeping it?" She tilts her chin up to look at him properly. "I live with a time traveling alien who's a billion years old and mysteriously never dies, and who is going to confer upon me the closest to functional immortality that exists with the added bonus of super-slow aging so I get to keep my fabulous hair. You think I can't put on a couple of dinner parties a few times a year for that? A Christmas here or there? For the entire universe at my feet for as long as I can imagine?"

He pulls her in to kiss her and Donna says, "Speaking of which, Spaceman, when does my youthful journey begin?" instead of kissing him back. She feels the Doctor huff a laugh against her lips and closes the gap between them, kissing him deeply.

"Let's say tomorrow," he says. "I have more important things to do now."

"Like dishes?" Donna asks.

"Fuck no," he says, pulling her by the hand up the stairs.

He does do the dishes of course, after, when Donna is lying contentedly on her bed. She just smiles at him languidly when he gets up and puts his shorts back on. "I'll be back," he says.

Before long Donna can hear the hum of the dishwasher. She pulls a blanket over herself and thinks about what she's been offered. The chance to outlive everyone. The chance to see her daughter through an entire life, and to stay the same as she is now. The chance to be loved, as long as she lives, no matter where in the universe she goes. The chance to love, to be free to love the man she thinks she was always destined to know. The chance to exist, to no longer be invisible, lonely, defective, unimportant Donna. How could anyone turn that down?

And she'll be useful to UNIT and IHR for as long as she's able. Think of how many people she could help. How many wounds she could heal, how many psyches she could repair. How much progress she could see and help to come to pass. She can do good for as long as she can.

And for love, she can give up the normal life. It was never much for her anyway. So when he comes back into the room she is solemn. "So tomorrow I get to live forever," she says, resting her chin on her hand on his chest.

"Not forever," he says. "But yeah."

"Will it hurt?"

"I don't know," the Doctor says. "It's a process invented by Gallifreyans alongside the regeneration technology. Regeneration doesn't hurt, but you never know." He squeezes her a little. "I won't let you suffer."

"And it'll work?"

"It's been used before for scientific and legal purposes," the Doctor says. "So yes, it works. But you'd be the first and only human to ever have undergone the process."

Donna rolls her eyes. "How many more times is that going to happen to me?" she asks, smiling. "The first and only human to undergo a metacrisis. The first and only human to engage psychically. The first and only human to get awards from aliens for heroism. You know. Old hat for me now, Spaceman." She gives him a playfully wicked look. "I'm special."

"Yes," he says. "Finally, you get it." It's nine million people... who cares about me? And out of nine million, out of eight billion, out of the infinity, she will always be the one. For her, he will live the normal life.

In the end it doesn't hurt. Donna goes into the TARDIS with him at sunrise, since neither of them managed to sleep but instead talked until the sky turned light again. She goes to the medbay with him, and clings to his hand until he helps her onto the bed. "Don't be scared," he tells her. "On the other side of this is our life."

"How long is it going to take?" Donna asks.

"Don't know," the Doctor says.

"You don't know much," Donna says softly, without rancor.

"It's never--"

"Been done on a human before, I know," Donna says, finishing his sentence. She squeezes his hand. "Here we go."

He pulls out the Chameleon Arch and connects to the mainframe of the TARDIS processor. He gives her a look full of affection and love as he places it on her head. She reaches up to adjust it and breathes deep. "I'm gonna turn it on in a moment," the Doctor says. "Stay with me."

She nods, and a moment later she feels her entire body go rigid, as if she has been bound in straps. There is a prickling sensation, a great shrieking ring in her ears that makes her wince, and then she is shivering uncontrollably. It seems to go on for ages, but eventually Donna feels her body slow and still. She is out of breath and a little shaky, but she opens her eyes to see the Doctor still standing there. He looks concerned and scared, until she says, "Blimey. What the fuck was that?"

He makes a noise between and laugh and a sob, pulls the Chameleon Arch off her, and helps her sit up. "You all right?"

"I feel fine," Donna says. "Maybe a bit dazed?" She gets to her feet and stands still for a moment, the Doctor's hands hovering on either side of her to catch her if she falls. She looks down at herself. "What now?"

"Er," the Doctor says. "I think we're done."

"Oh," Donna says. "Good. I could use a giant meal and to sleep for days."

"Those are good side effects," the Doctor says. "There we go. Let's go eat and you can get into bed."

Donna ends up sleeping nearly a full 24 hours afterwards. She wakes up feeling no different physically. When she comes down to the living room the Doctor is sitting there attempting to look as if he has not been anxiously checking on her for the last day and night to make sure she's still breathing. He'd been resisting the urge to wake her up for nearly that long. He smiles with relief when she joins him on the sofa. "Status report?" he asks her, only half-playfully.

"Er," Donna says, considering. "I just slept the entire day and night, right?"

"Yep. Hungry?"

"Maybe?" Donna asks. "So now what? Is something supposed to happen?"

"I'm pretty sure it's what doesn't happen that will tell us we were successful."

"What time is it?" Donna asks.

"About 3:30 in the morning," he says.

"I love these weird hours with you," Donna says. She moves to nestle up against him. "I feel exactly the same."

"Good," he says. "Time will tell, as usual." He hands her the TV remote. Their TV is wi-fi enabled, of course, and it's hooked up to the TARDIS computer via said wi-fi, so they can get any programming they want, past or present, Earth or not. Donna settles on reruns of Seinfeld, since she had discovered it during their long, happy, timeless nights together. She stretches out so that her head is resting on his chest. He puts his arm around her, under her arm so he can rest his hand on her breast. It's an easy, possessive move, and Donna smiles to herself, hoping he can't see it.

After a few minutes, Donna says, "I can't decide whether this show is funny or not."

"The audience thinks it is," the Doctor says. Donna huffs a little laugh.

"Is it a laugh track?"

"Maybe," the Doctor says. There is a comfortable little silence.

"Will we always live here?" Donna asks.

"If you like," the Doctor says. "We can go anywhere if you get bored of France. We just have to let UNIT know. We have time."

"Yeah," Donna says. She puts her hand over the Doctor's. The sapphire ring glints in the light from the TV.

They finally do have time.