AliMoseby (alimoseby) wrote,

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How to Tell Your Best Mate You Fancy Her

I am still on hiatus.  This has been on my hard drive for a while.  It was meant to be part of a semi humorous series, but as I have said, I haven't found much joy in writing, so I don't know if the other parts will ever be written.  It kind of depends on my muse, and whether or not I get the same messages in my inbox that I have when I've posted other fics and personal entries.  It's been a while so maybe the trolls have gone.  Anyhow.

As I said, this has been on my hard drive and I finished it up today.  I use a MacBook Pro, and it had been running OS X Lion, but I ended up having to upgrade to OS X Mavericks to get software updates that will protect it from malware and viruses.  Macs don't have anti-virus software on it's own, you get it in updates to the operating system.  Only problem with the OS X Mavericks update was that I wasn't sure if the programs I had would be compatible.  So I used this fic to see how everything works.  And what a relief...everything does work.  GIMP and the X11 program I need to run GIMP is a little sluggish, but I was able to work with that.  And the new free VPN extension I was using to watch BBC iPlayer also works.  =D  I had been using MediaHint for a while, but they suddenly dropped this $3.95 per month fee to use it so I had to do a search for another free one.  Now I'm using Hola Better Internet.  Seems to work alright.

I also got a region free blu ray player, along with The Escape Artist from Amazon UK.  It was a huge relief that it worked.  It helped that it has an automatic NTSF to PAL converter so my TV can get the signal.  I'm hoping to add to my David Tennant collection soon.  As well as get Big School.  Hubby wants Little Britain eventually.

Okay then.  Now that you've made it through that really long author's note, have at the fic.  And please excuse the fact that you can't really see the font on the graphic.  It was supposed to be darker.  Grrrr...

As always, I don't own Ten, Donna, Jack, Ianto, Gwen, Torchwood, or Doctor Who.  The BBC does.  Please read and enjoy...

Internet of the Universe.  Like the internet of Earth in Donna’s time, just universal.  He tapped the keyboard (not like an Earth keyboard, no this one had 250 keys, could be used to type in most galactic languages, and was made of a bluish metal that warmed when used) and entered his query into the search engine.  He stared at the results, and realized he should probably narrow his search as he was pretty sure Donna would not be interested in spending an evening relaxing in a blob of gelatin (that was semi sentient and said to have aphrodisiac properties).  There were a few other things that had him cringing imagining Donna’s face and the inevitable slap he’d get.  He went back to the search bar and made another entry.

           How to tell your twenty-first century human best mate, you fancy her.

~Breakfast in Bed~

           He could do this.  He could.  He’d seen Donna do it multitudes of times.  How hard could making pancakes be?  She should try making a Gallifreyan risotto.   Now that was culinary difficulty.  He grinned imagining her face when she found out what was used in place of rice. 

           He stared at the ingredients on the counter.  He thought he had all the right ones.  Just to be safe though, when he came up with this idea, he had purchased pancake mix.  And bananas.  Those were the most important.  Always find a way to have bananas.  He mixed and measured and poured some batter into a hot pan, grinning when he achieved perfect circle status.  Three pancakes happily cooking away.  With banana chunks.  Oh yeah.  He could do this.  He settled himself at the table with a small bit of circuitry to rewire while waiting for the pancakes to cook.

           Three flat hockey pucks later, and a pan that was most likely never going to be used again later, and he realized it was harder than it looked.  He probably should have checked on them.  And flipped them over.  Oh, and perhaps greased the pan so they wouldn’t stick.  He sighed, waited for the smoke to clear, and rummaged around the kitchen.

“EGGS!” he shouted triumphantly.  “I can make her scrambled eggs.  She likes those.  Those look easy.”

           Scrambled eggs, he discovered were not easy.  The blackened bits all but welded to yet another now unusable pan were proof of that.  He grumbled.  This breakfast in bed thing was proving rather difficult.  He cast an eye about the kitchen, while the smoke cleared again (he noted much slower with it being blown in his face, perhaps the TARDIS was annoyed?) and his gaze landed on the toaster, a loaf of bread, and three bananas he hadn’t used in the pancakes/hockey pucks. 

           Half an hour later, he proudly presented toast with mashed bananas on top to Donna.  She looked at it kind of funny, but ate it gamely.  He handed her a cup of tea made just the way she liked it, and hoped he could postpone telling her about the ruined pans.

           He also did not tell her he fancied her.


~A Nice Dinner~

           In retrospect he really should have checked the planet’s history more thoroughly.  He tightened his hold on Donna’s hand as they ran through the streets towards the TARDIS.  It had all started so well too.  He’d even gotten her lilies.  And not just any lilies.  Wilf had told him Donna liked pale pink lilies, on their last visit to Chiswick.   So he’d scoured the London area in three different time periods, each time period twice, looking for the perfect ones while Donna had visited with her Gramps and mother.  He’d finally found some in a lovely shop near the outskirts of London in the 1950s, half an hour (so the TARDIS told him) before he was to pick her up.  He carefully placed them in a stasis chamber to preserve them until he found the perfect place to take her for a nice dinner.  Then he’d gone to Chiswick to pick her up.

           They’d gone to the dinner at a very elegant restaurant on a planet populated by tall, blue beings, with (and there really wasn’t another word for it) fluffy white hair.  They were in the midst of their third course of rather interesting seafood, when the proverbial shit hit the fan.  Tall, purple beings with large projectile weapons stormed the street outside the restaurant, firing at the blue beings.  The Doctor sighed, and Donna echoed his sigh, before they linked hands and left quickly.

           Which led them to where they were now, running through the streets to where the TARDIS was.  They’d managed to avoid the purple beings who’s weapons weren’t actually firing projectiles, they discovered, but instead a thick pinkish goo that covered the blue beings, rendering them immobile.  Beyond that, the Doctor couldn’t tell what the full effects were.  And he didn’t really want to stay and find out.  But some of the blue beings noted their apparent lack of gooeyness and started following them. 

           The Doctor felt Donna lurch, and stumble and when he turned and looked, she had pink goo on her clothes.  She stumbled as the goo seemed to harden, and she slowed down as she became immobile.  He stopped long enough to grab her, swinging her legs up under one arm, and then full out ran to the TARDIS.  He could feel the goo seeping from her, onto his arms, and the paralyzing effects starting, but he pushed on.  He set her on her feet when they got to the TARDIS, and he yanked out his key, shoving it in the lock and opening the door.  Yanking the key back out of the lock, he lifted Donna, ran inside, slammed the door, and almost without stopping, took of the handbrake and sent the TARDIS into the vortex. 

           Two hours later, and the goo was gone, they were clean and dry, sitting in the kitchen quietly sipping tea.  He didn’t tell her he fancied her then either.

~A Nice Picnic on the Beach~

           The Doctor watched Donna warily as she spread the special anti itch cream he had in the medbay over the parts of her body she could reach without removing the loose shirt and shorts she had on.  Angry red welts covered both their bodies.  Donna was grumbling under her breath about “Martian Boys and their inability to even find a beach without issues”.  He sighed as she slammed the bottle of cream down on the counter top, and announced  that she was going to lay down for a while.  Maybe sleep a little while the cream took effect. 

           He watched her leave, and sat down on a nearby stool.  All he’d wanted to do was take Donna on a nice picnic on the beach and actually get to tell her he fancied her.  He’d picked a planet that had perpetual moons in the sky.  Perfect for a midnight picnic.  He thought he’d done his research well enough and when they’d arrived, Donna had had a large smile at the sand, sound of the ocean, and the moons in the violet sky.  It wasn’t too cool, for being nighttime, and as he’d spread the blanket out onto the sand a little ways from the TARDIS he thought he might have actually got it right.

           Some four hours, some unexpected fog, and about a billion sand fleas later, and he’d rethought getting it right.  He’d rushed them back to the TARDIS, blanket balled up in the picnic basket, pulling on one of Donna’s hands to hurry her as her free hand scratched at the sand fleas squirming in her clothing.  When they’d entered the timeship, a sonic blast hit them, making both cringe and Donna swear her teeth were going to fall out.  The TARDIS effectively removed the sand fleas from them with the blast.  The bugs fell through the grating, but the TARDIS made them disappear (even the Doctor didn’t know how or what the ship did with them).  That’s when the welts showed up, and thus the trip to the medbay for the special cream the Doctor had gotten sometime during his fifth regeneration.  He couldn’t remember exactly why he’d gotten it, but he had it and he was glad.  It worked almost instantly on the itch and had some healing properties. 

           He waited in the medbay for a half hour or so, went to his room to change out of his shirt and shorts, and get back into his pinstriped suit, then ventured out to see where Donna had gotten to.  She’d said she was going to go lay down, but she hadn’t specified where.  He found her dozing on a couch in the library with an Agatha  Christie book laying on her chest.  He covered her with a blanket and sat in a nearby chair, unwilling to leave her alone while she was covered in the sand flea bites.  He told himself it was because he wanted to make sure she didn’t have some sort of reaction to the bites, but in the back of his mind he knew the TARDIS would alert him to any changes in Donna’s health.  He sighed and just admitted to himself that although watching for changes in her condition was a concern, he simply wanted to be with her. 

           Quite obviously, he didn’t tell her he fancied her then either.

~Or…she could always overhear you talking rather loudly to your friend…~

           Jack watched the agitated Time Lord pace back and forth in front of him.  He had been told they were here for the TARDIS to refuel, but judging from the fact that Donna had gone off to get some shopping done, and the Doctor had made his way right to the Hub, asking to speak the Jack right away, the immortal man figured there might be more to it.  Finding out the Doctor fancied Donna and had tried three times to tell her, both surprised him, and amused him.  Especially the part about the pancakes and eggs.  Finally, the eleventh time the Doctor crossed in front of him and he downed the fourth cup of tea Ianto had brought him in one gulp, Jack reached out and stopped him.   The Doctor glared at him.  “Why don’t you just tell her?” he asked the Time Lord.

“Tell her?” the Doctor spluttered.  “I can’t just tell her.  Not yet anyhow.  I have to show her.  Soften her up.  I want to kiss her, not be slapped by her.  If I tell her, I’ll get slapped.”

“You burned pancakes and eggs, ruining two of her favorite pans, you took her to dinner, got caught in a minor skirmish and got her covered in pink goo, and you took her to the beach and got her infested with sand fleas.  If she didn’t slap you then, she’s probably not going to slap you for telling her you fancy her.  Might be less painful for the both of you that way.”

“Or less painful for her,” Ianto said refilling the Doctor’s tea cup for the fifth time.  “I imagine her slapping you would hurt.”  He quickly moved away at the glare the Time Lord gave him, right before gulping down the tea, and grabbing the pot from Ianto, and drinking the remaining tea out of that. 

           Jack snorted at Ianto’s look of annoyance.  “You think that’s bad.  He uses his fingers to get marmalade out of a jar instead of a butter knife.  It’s usually other people’s marmalade too.”  He laughed out loud at Ianto’s look of disgust.  Ianto took back the pot, and left for the kitchen to wash the pot, and most likely make more tea. 

           The Doctor resumed his pacing, muttering under his breath.  Jack watched for another five or so minutes, before grabbing his arm and stopping him again.  “Seriously Doc.  Just tell her.  When she gets back from the store, take her to the TARDIS and tell her.  I’ll make reservations at a nice restaurant for you to take her after you tell her, for a nice date.  One that doesn’t involve sand fleas, goo, and you cooking.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

“Open your mouth and say it?  Use that wonderful gob of yours and say it.  Practice on me.  What would you say?”


“Come on Doc.”



“No Jack!”

“Okay, but you’re wasting time.  What if you and Donna go somewhere, and she meets someone?  What if that someone likes her, and she likes him?  What are you going to do then?” Jack watched as a vein twitched in the Doctor’s temple.  “Come on, Doc.  What have you got to lose?” 

           The Doctor glared and ground his teeth, but then seemed to sag.  “Her.  I have her to lose.  I can’t lose her.”

“Then tell her.”

“What, am I supposed to walk up to her and just say ‘Hey, Donna, I know that we agreed to be just mates, and have none of that nonsense as you put it, but actually, I rather fancy you, and have for some time.  In fact, I more than fancy you, I love you.  I’m in love with you.  What about you?’”

           Jack listened to the Time Lord yell, and saw Ianto out of the corner of his eye, standing with a pot of tea in the kitchen doorway, his eyes wide.  Jack followed his gaze behind the Doctor and saw Donna standing there with Gwen, watching and listening open-mouthed and wide-eyed.  He turned his attention back to the Doctor.  “Don’t know if I have the nerve to say that to her face yet.”

“Um…well…” Jack stumbled.

“Well what?”

“You…um…you just did.”


           Jack pointed over the Doctor’s shoulder.  The Doctor turned, and promptly lost all color in his face.  He turned back to Jack, but the captain was backing off towards the kitchen, where he grabbed Ianto, beckoned to Gwen, and went towards his office.  “We’ll…um…just leave you alone now.”  He ushered them inside and shut the door leaving the Doctor alone with Donna.   They stared at each other neither one saying a word. 

“So…uh…you heard that?” the Doctor asked, not moving.

“Yeah,” Donna answered, also not moving. 

           They stared at each other some more, before the Doctor sighed, his shoulders sagged, and he closed his eyes, waiting for the slap he knew was inevitable.  He opened one eye after a moment, before closing it quickly when he saw Donna’s arm raise.  But the slap never came.  Instead he felt her hand cup his cheek, her thumb rub gently on it.  He opened his eyes to see her looking at him with a small smile.  She raised her other hand, and cupped his other cheek.  “Donna?” he asked quietly, raising his own hands to cover hers.  His eyes opened wider then slammed shut when she brushed a small kiss across his lips.  He opened his eyes when she pulled back.  “Donna?” he asked again uncertainly.

“I love you too, Spaceman,” she said as softly as he had spoken.  “I have for a while.”  He grinned widely, and she smiled back at him, before they both leaned in and kissed again, this time for quite a while longer.  They jumped and broke apart at the sound of Jack’s office door opening.

“Shall I book you a nice hotel suite for after your dinner?”

“Jaaaaaaack,” they both groaned.

“What?” he asked, with a leer.

“Shut up and leave them alone,” Ianto’s voice was heard, Jack yelped as he was yanked back into the office, and the door shut. 

           The Doctor and Donna shared a couple more kisses before entwining their hands and leaving the Hub.  They chose to return to the TARDIS instead of taking up Jack in his offer of dinner and hotel reservations.  The Doctor did take the TARDIS into the Vortex though.  No need to have possible interruptions from Jack no matter how well intentioned.
Tags: doctor who, donna noble, fiction, gwen cooper, ianto jones, jack harkness, pg-13, tenth doctor
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