An Officer and the Noble Woman, Part 40
An Officer and the Noble Woman, Part 40
Author: dtstrainers
Paring: Donna Noble/Peter Carlisle
Co-Captain of this Ship: WhosInTheAttic, for getting me started on this, but all errors are mine alone.
First Mate: The lovely serenityslady has officially joined the crew. Thanks for the support and suggestions!
Rating: PG for Plot GaloreWord Count: 3,312
Disclaimer: Donna and Peter- not mine, but in my mind.
Part 1 | Part 5 | Part 10 | Part 15 | Part 20.1 | Part 25 | Part 30 | Part 35.1
Tuesday, July 2, 2012- 5:30 PM
"It's all settled. We've got a court date now for the Morgan murder, so set Tuesday, the 7th of August down in your diary and let’s go," Ian said, barging into Peter's office without preamble, mobile in hand. "Maddie texted that Donna's already been there an hour and our dinner reservations are at 7:30."
Peter nodded distractedly from behind his desk, absently chewing his pen as he stared at the screen, but he made no move to leave.
"So I'll just text her that we're on our way, then," Ian said, shifting his weight and leaning back on the doorframe.
"Uh-huh,” Peter murmured absently, “ye do that."
Ian sighed and watched Peter's eyes dart from the screen to the folder on his desk and sighed. “You do realize that we have two lovely ladies waiting?” he prodded without much hope.
“Yep,” Peter replied automatically, He cocked his jaw to the side, raising one eyebrow in consternation as he continued to gnaw on the cap of his pen. He punched in something on his keyboard and peered closely at the screen with a frown.
“OK, DI, let’s be on our way, then” Ian declared even as he surrendered, his curiosity getting the better of him. He walked around and stood behind Peter, wondering just what had so consumed his partner.
Glancing over his shoulder, Peter held up two pictures for Ian’s consideration. “Is this the same man, do ye think?” he demanded, watching Ian carefully.
“I suppose it could be,” Ian admitted, taking the proffered images, “but the photos are of poor quality and judging from the clothing of the others in the photos, these were taken years - decades, even- apart. More likely that they're grandfather and grandson." He peered closer at the photos, comparing them to the surveillance photo still lying on the desk. "Wait just a moment- this one looks like the man who accosted Donna in the department store. But it couldn’t be… this photo is dated 1941!”
"I think it is," Peter replied, turning in his chair to regard his partner fully, watching as Ian studied the images again with greater intensity. Peter reached for another photo and the fabric of his shirt pressed uncomfortably against his bandaged injury. He gingerly scratched his arm through his shirt, wincing slightly at the prickling itch that accompanied the healing process.
Ian handed the photos back to Peter, his eyes going wide as he noticed the array of images spread across his partner’s desk. Each photo contained a face- the same face- circled in red, despite having been taken over the course of what must have been nearly a hundred years. “DI, who....no, what is this man?"
“I dunno,” Peter admitted, fitting the photos back into place in the collage he was building. “But he was outside Donna’s flat on the train platform this weekend and somehow, without seein’ him, Donna knew he was there. It was the second time I’ve seen him. I first noticed him watching us because of his reaction to seein’ Donna with me in public. I was amused at the time, thinkin’ he was scandalized at witnessin’ our entirely innocent display of affection,” he explained a touch defensively. He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands across his belt buckle. "I revised my assessment, later on, after the confrontation betwixt him and Donna at S&G's. I thought for a bit that he might be Tippet's man, but no longer. "
Ian reached for another photo, comparing it to the stills taken from the security footage from S&G’s. “What changed your mind?” he asked wryly.
Peter ignored the comment and continued to think aloud. “When he accosted Donna in S&G’s, his actions did seem to confirm my suspicions. After all, the shop girl stated that he addressed her by my name. But then, if he was there to harm or threaten her, why summon help when she collapsed?” Peter reasoned, scratching at his ear and pursing his lips. He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes as he continued his soliloquy. "And why did he let me see him? Why let me know he’s still watchin’ Donna? If he worked for Tippet, I imagine he would be tryin' to intimidate me in advance of the trial, but honestly? I just donae think anyone associated with that thug would be capable of that level of subtly. No, anyone in Tippet’s employ would be expected to make an overt display, not engage in convert surveillance.”
He fixed Ian with a determined eye. “Add to that the sense I got from him that we were bein’ observed. Donna and I were bein’ judged, or analyzed, or, or-“ he broke off, searching for the right word, “or studied even, for some reason. The man dinnae look meanacin’ so much as curious and perhaps a bit sad,” he admitted, chewing his lip and nodding at the memory. "So I cast about elsewhere for possible alternatives and, as daft as it sounds, I keep comin’ back to Torchwood.”
"But if it’s Torchwood trying to cover their tracks, why not just make Donna disappear?” Ian asked gravely, comparing a blurry image of a man in what appeared to be a Royal Air Force coat dashing across the Plass in Cardiff to a picture from S&H’s security cameras.
"I donae know,” Peter admitted, waving his hand at the display before him,"but there are whispers out there, rumors, of sightings of the Grey Phantom.”
“Grey Phantom?” Ian asked, frowning.
“Or sometimes the Blue Phantom,” Peter said, spreading out the small pile of printouts on his desk. "His coat may change colour slightly, but that’s about the only thing. The man himself doesnae seem to change, no matter the time. There’s only a smatterin' of images and drawings, but he’s there, scattered throughout history, if ye know what yer lookin' for. He’s frequently sighted in conjunction with all manner of strange phenomenon reported to the authorities, all over the United Kingdom, and even abroad on occasion.” Peter tossed Ian a picture of the Phantom standing beside a compact, lethal-looking dark haired woman which appeared to have been taken from airport security. “His presence isnae seen as a good omen, no matter the time or place."
"How’d you find this?” Ian wanted to know, sifting through the pile of photos curiously.
“Alec told me one of our techs has been helpin' beta test some software his brother is developin', somethin’ called Aurora. It’s biometric software, meant to find known faces in images and compare them to unknown faces in others,” Peter explained. "On a whim, I asked them to take a look at an image from the security camera. Turns out they knew him without even havin’ to look. The team has been searchin’ through historical databases for practice and they kept hittin’ on this same face, again and again. He’s an enigma in the security community, and they keep track of sightings of the Phantom like bird watchers."
Ian nodded slowly in understanding. "Another mystery, then, more pieces of the puzzle," he mused. He stood quietly, regarding Peter for a long moment before continuing. “I thought you’d promised Donna not to investigate further,” he finally said as he replaced the images in the folder before Peter. “I thought that she didn’t want to know about her past any longer."
Peter leaned forward suddenly, his eyes dark and dangerous as he stared at Ian. “I agreed no to investigate her missing time, yes, but this man?” He stabbed the folder before him, never breaking eye contact with his partner. "He’s no in her past. He’s here, now. He’s still followin' Donna, and he let me see him watchin’ us this weekend.” He sat back again, crossing his arms over his chest as he considered the security image of the Phantom approaching Donna. He frowned as he tossed it back onto the folder before him. "It wasnae an accident, it was a purposeful action. He wanted me to know he was there, and I want to know why."
**********
Wednesday, July 4, 2012 7:40 PM
"So I was thinkin', Policeman, once my tenure at C&G is over, I'm gonna take a more hands-on approach at Noble Endeavors,” Donna said, rinsing off a plate and handing it over to Peter to dry. "Not the established departments, mind, they're doin' just fine on their own. I thought maybe I'd just take a more active role in Maddie's project and help her out?“
“I’m sure your efforts will be appreciated," Peter agreed as he put the plate back in the cupboard. "How much longer will ye be there at Cheltenham & Gloucester, then?” he asked with a considering nod.
“Another two or three weeks,” Donna replied, handing him the last glass as she let the water empty out of the basin. “Iona’s goin’ a bit stir-crazy, bein’ home with her mum all the time and besides, they could use the extra income with the baby and all.” She wiped her hands on a towel and wiped up the counter as he replaced the glass in the cabinet. “Anyway, we have got to move on this, and soon, I told Maddie. We need to build up the momentum, get more local support, make this a real community project. It's the best way to build in longevity, if everyone has some sort of investment in it, in seein it work,” she finished, her eyes fired with determination. She turned to Peter and found him gazing at her with a wistful smile.
"What? What is it?” Donna asked, puzzled at his expression. "Have I got somethin' on my face?”she asked with a wry smile. Suddenly, she paled and blinked rapidly, looking at him with something akin to panic. "Have I got somethin' on my back?” she demanded, trying to look over her shoulder in alarm. Her breathing shallowed and, closing her eyes, she shivered. Peter saw the change come over her and knew she’d slipped out of synch with the present, and he was dismayed but not surprised to see her right hand starting to flutter towards her left ring finger. He reached out and grasped her hand instead, rubbing his thumb gently across the spot where he had decided she would one day wear his ring. As if startling awake after a dream, Donna’s eyes flew open and she inhaled sharply. She stared at his hand on hers for a moment, dazed, before she looked up into his face and broke out in a grin. "What? What is it?" she laughed, and Peter knew she had no idea she was repeating herself.
"Are ye all right, Donna?" he asked lightly so as not to alarm her. "Ye seemed miles away, Beloved."
“Sorry?” she asked, frowning slightly at the change in his tone. She cocked her head to the side, raising one eyebrow with a lopsided grin. "No, everything’s fine,” she replied, stepping closer and clasping her hands behind his neck. “In fact, it’s better than fine, it’s brilliant.”
He smiled despite his concern and trailed a fingertip along her jaw. “We,” he whispered. “That’s what ye said the other day, in my flat. When ye were upset by my neighbor, ye said ‘We have got to move’.”
“Did I?" she said, releasing him and blushing slightly as she made to step away. "Well, I was upset, now, wasn’t I?” She dipped her head and hid her eyes as her curtain of hair swung down between them.
Peter caught her gently about the waist with one arm and drew her back to him. “And when ye had the alarm put in, ye’d already decided on the renovations upstairs,” he continued quietly, lifting her hair back away from her face with one hand.
“What are you gettin’ at, Copper?” she said, trying for attitude but only achieving slightly breathless.
“I’m simply attemptin’ to ascertain the precise moment that we became ‘We’,” he said before brushing his lips gently against hers. “It’s another anniversary to celebrate, a chuisle.”
She wanted to roll her eyes. She wanted to bat his chest and call him bonkers. She wanted to hide behind bluster and bolshy noise, but when he kissed her again, the raw honesty of his emotions overwhelmed her and all her pretenses fell away.
"Stop it, Peter. Just stop, please?" she finally said, breaking away and blushing furiously.
"Why? Why won't ye tell me, Beloved?" he asked, confused by her reticence.
She ran her tongue over her lips and fixed her eyes on a point above his head. Peter saw the tears standing in her eyes and for a moment, he was sure she was preparing herself to dart away before she sniffed and looked down at her bare feet. "I'm afraid, I suppose," she finally admitted, anxiously chewing her bottom lip. "I'm afraid of what you might think I expect, from you, from our ... relationship. I mean, it’s one thing to think about what livin' with someone might be like," she explained with a nervous laugh, "but it's somethin' else entirely to have your architect alter your flat to suit your lover without even consultin' him on it."
"Oh, Donna," he breathed, enfolding her in his arms and tucking her head beneath his chin. “ Don't ye know? Have I no told ye before? We were always headin' for this," he said and he felt her tremble against him.
“It's like destiny,” she whispered, frowning slightly at the ringing in her ears. “Like somethin’s drawin’ us together?”
He lifted her chin gingerly. “Aye,” he replied, slowly brushing his lips across hers. “We belong together, Donna Noble. I love ye, now and forever.”
“Forever,” she repeated. “I’m gonna be with you forever,” she said softly, caressing his cheek as a tear finally slipped down her face. ‘For the rest of my life."
**********
Thursday, July 5, 2012 2:18 AM
It's hot.
It's so hot, she's sweltering, roasting in her own juices and she’s certain that she must have drifted off in a sauna. She's sweating so heavily, she's nearly swimming in it. Donna's burning up and she can't escape. It's coming from inside her, swelling around her, engulfing her, sweeping her up and carrying her away. It's terrible and it’s beautiful and she needs it to stop and she wants it to never end.
She hears a voice raised in agonized yearning, wanting her to stay, and horrified that she might try to do just that. She's shaking, violently, and there's something surrounding her, binding her arms to her body, encasing her, entombing her, and just as she's sure she's about to burst into flame, something gentle, something blessedly cool flutters against her temples. Her eyes fly open as she screams.
**********
Peter opened his eyes slowly, jostled awake by the woman stirring restlessly beside him. Donna was pushing against him, forcing him away as she tossed and turned, mumbling in her sleep. He blinked slowly and forced himself up, rolling onto his side and bracing himself on one elbow as he tried to determine what was happening. Was she having a nightmare? He watched her in her sleep as a tiny frown creased her face and her chin trembled.
“Donna,” he said quietly as he reached out to stroke her cheek. She seemed to be glowing faintly, enveloped in a pale golden haze and he blinked in confusion, looking around for the source of the light. She shuddered violently and her breathing hitched as she turned away from him, mumbling, still trapped in her mind. Peter frowned when she continued to push away from him and he heard her breathing become erratic.
"Love, wake up," he said a bit louder, fumbling awkwardly for the bedside lamp before he remembered they weren't in his flat. He could feel the heat pouring off her as he reached across to turn on the light and he was momentarily shocked by what he saw. Donna stirred restlessly beside him, jerking her head from side to side. She was flushed and her hair was dark with sweat, sticking to her face and molding itself to her neck as she fought against the blankets binding her. She began to thrash about desperately, tangled up in the sheets and straight-jacketed in. Peter flung off the blankets covering them to find her drenched in sweat and shivering, her hands flexing convulsively as she continued to writhe and moan.
“Donna, wake up. Please, Love,” he pleaded, reaching over to grasp her shoulder. He gave a gentle shake and she whimpered, her soft cry becomming a groan when his fingers wrapped around her arm. Donna twisted away as if burned by his touch and she gulped down air in great, hiccuping sobs.
“No. Oh my God, I can’t….,” she muttered, turning away from him frantically. Fearing that she was having a seizure brought on by what must be a raging fever, Peter fought down his growing panic when Donna failed to respond to his efforts to rouse her. He twisted around to face her, reaching out to stroke her damp hair away as he leaned in to press his lips to her forehead.
“Come on, Love, wake up,” he murmured as he pulled her up and into his arms. Her head lolled back and as he shifted her body so that she lay cradled in his lap, he realized she was mumbling, chanting a desperate plea.
"No. No. No, don't make me…,” she cried and the rest was lost as she fought weakly against his arms around her. "Doctor, please, please don't make me…” Donna pleaded, her voice rising with her desperation and Peter frowned, unsure of what he'd heard. He brushed her fringe back out of her eyes and tried to sooth her, his long fingers framing her face with a gentle caress.
“Donna, look at me,” he begged and before he could say another word, she shot away and was gone from his embrace.
"No!" she shrieked, sounding as if the cry was torn from her very soul. Donna scrabbled back frantically and slammed herself against the bedroom wall, and even as he reached for her again, he knew she was still asleep. "I said no," she declared, one hand braced against the wall behind her and the other flung out to stop his advance. She stood there, panting, nearly vibrating with fury and despair and this time, there was no mistaking the light he saw dancing in her eyes like St. Elmo's fire. "I begged and I pleaded and I. Said. No," she accused as she slumped back against the wall.
"Donna, I donae understand," he said, reaching out for her but not stepping closer. "Ye're no well, Love. Let me help ye." At the sound of his voice, Donna inhaled sharply and confusion shimmered across her features. She blinked hard, staring at the bandages that still covered his upper arm.
"But...but...?" she stammered and he saw her eyes clear as the terror receded along with the dream. "...Peter?" Donna whispered in a small, fragile voice. The tendrils of gold that danced around her head like a halo dimmed as she dropped her hand and the first tear fell when he surged forward to embrace her.
"I said no," she sobbed, reaching out for him and guiding his trembling hands back to her face. She closed her eyes in relief when his fingers settled gently at her temples, and as her knees gave way, he guided her gently to the floor.
"Peter, I said no," she repeated as she looked up into his eyes and willed him to understand. "I said no...." He felt her shudder again and just before she slipped away into oblivion, he heard her whisper, "and he did it anyway."
Part 1 | Part 5 | Part 10 | Part 15 | Part 20.1 | Part 25 | Part 30 | Part 35.1
Author: dtstrainers
Paring: Donna Noble/Peter Carlisle
Co-Captain of this Ship: WhosInTheAttic, for getting me started on this, but all errors are mine alone.
First Mate: The lovely serenityslady has officially joined the crew. Thanks for the support and suggestions!
Rating: PG for Plot GaloreWord Count: 3,312
Disclaimer: Donna and Peter- not mine, but in my mind.
Part 1 | Part 5 | Part 10 | Part 15 | Part 20.1 | Part 25 | Part 30 | Part 35.1
Tuesday, July 2, 2012- 5:30 PM
"It's all settled. We've got a court date now for the Morgan murder, so set Tuesday, the 7th of August down in your diary and let’s go," Ian said, barging into Peter's office without preamble, mobile in hand. "Maddie texted that Donna's already been there an hour and our dinner reservations are at 7:30."
Peter nodded distractedly from behind his desk, absently chewing his pen as he stared at the screen, but he made no move to leave.
"So I'll just text her that we're on our way, then," Ian said, shifting his weight and leaning back on the doorframe.
"Uh-huh,” Peter murmured absently, “ye do that."
Ian sighed and watched Peter's eyes dart from the screen to the folder on his desk and sighed. “You do realize that we have two lovely ladies waiting?” he prodded without much hope.
“Yep,” Peter replied automatically, He cocked his jaw to the side, raising one eyebrow in consternation as he continued to gnaw on the cap of his pen. He punched in something on his keyboard and peered closely at the screen with a frown.
“OK, DI, let’s be on our way, then” Ian declared even as he surrendered, his curiosity getting the better of him. He walked around and stood behind Peter, wondering just what had so consumed his partner.
Glancing over his shoulder, Peter held up two pictures for Ian’s consideration. “Is this the same man, do ye think?” he demanded, watching Ian carefully.
“I suppose it could be,” Ian admitted, taking the proffered images, “but the photos are of poor quality and judging from the clothing of the others in the photos, these were taken years - decades, even- apart. More likely that they're grandfather and grandson." He peered closer at the photos, comparing them to the surveillance photo still lying on the desk. "Wait just a moment- this one looks like the man who accosted Donna in the department store. But it couldn’t be… this photo is dated 1941!”
"I think it is," Peter replied, turning in his chair to regard his partner fully, watching as Ian studied the images again with greater intensity. Peter reached for another photo and the fabric of his shirt pressed uncomfortably against his bandaged injury. He gingerly scratched his arm through his shirt, wincing slightly at the prickling itch that accompanied the healing process.
Ian handed the photos back to Peter, his eyes going wide as he noticed the array of images spread across his partner’s desk. Each photo contained a face- the same face- circled in red, despite having been taken over the course of what must have been nearly a hundred years. “DI, who....no, what is this man?"
“I dunno,” Peter admitted, fitting the photos back into place in the collage he was building. “But he was outside Donna’s flat on the train platform this weekend and somehow, without seein’ him, Donna knew he was there. It was the second time I’ve seen him. I first noticed him watching us because of his reaction to seein’ Donna with me in public. I was amused at the time, thinkin’ he was scandalized at witnessin’ our entirely innocent display of affection,” he explained a touch defensively. He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands across his belt buckle. "I revised my assessment, later on, after the confrontation betwixt him and Donna at S&G's. I thought for a bit that he might be Tippet's man, but no longer. "
Ian reached for another photo, comparing it to the stills taken from the security footage from S&G’s. “What changed your mind?” he asked wryly.
Peter ignored the comment and continued to think aloud. “When he accosted Donna in S&G’s, his actions did seem to confirm my suspicions. After all, the shop girl stated that he addressed her by my name. But then, if he was there to harm or threaten her, why summon help when she collapsed?” Peter reasoned, scratching at his ear and pursing his lips. He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes as he continued his soliloquy. "And why did he let me see him? Why let me know he’s still watchin’ Donna? If he worked for Tippet, I imagine he would be tryin' to intimidate me in advance of the trial, but honestly? I just donae think anyone associated with that thug would be capable of that level of subtly. No, anyone in Tippet’s employ would be expected to make an overt display, not engage in convert surveillance.”
He fixed Ian with a determined eye. “Add to that the sense I got from him that we were bein’ observed. Donna and I were bein’ judged, or analyzed, or, or-“ he broke off, searching for the right word, “or studied even, for some reason. The man dinnae look meanacin’ so much as curious and perhaps a bit sad,” he admitted, chewing his lip and nodding at the memory. "So I cast about elsewhere for possible alternatives and, as daft as it sounds, I keep comin’ back to Torchwood.”
"But if it’s Torchwood trying to cover their tracks, why not just make Donna disappear?” Ian asked gravely, comparing a blurry image of a man in what appeared to be a Royal Air Force coat dashing across the Plass in Cardiff to a picture from S&H’s security cameras.
"I donae know,” Peter admitted, waving his hand at the display before him,"but there are whispers out there, rumors, of sightings of the Grey Phantom.”
“Grey Phantom?” Ian asked, frowning.
“Or sometimes the Blue Phantom,” Peter said, spreading out the small pile of printouts on his desk. "His coat may change colour slightly, but that’s about the only thing. The man himself doesnae seem to change, no matter the time. There’s only a smatterin' of images and drawings, but he’s there, scattered throughout history, if ye know what yer lookin' for. He’s frequently sighted in conjunction with all manner of strange phenomenon reported to the authorities, all over the United Kingdom, and even abroad on occasion.” Peter tossed Ian a picture of the Phantom standing beside a compact, lethal-looking dark haired woman which appeared to have been taken from airport security. “His presence isnae seen as a good omen, no matter the time or place."
"How’d you find this?” Ian wanted to know, sifting through the pile of photos curiously.
“Alec told me one of our techs has been helpin' beta test some software his brother is developin', somethin’ called Aurora. It’s biometric software, meant to find known faces in images and compare them to unknown faces in others,” Peter explained. "On a whim, I asked them to take a look at an image from the security camera. Turns out they knew him without even havin’ to look. The team has been searchin’ through historical databases for practice and they kept hittin’ on this same face, again and again. He’s an enigma in the security community, and they keep track of sightings of the Phantom like bird watchers."
Ian nodded slowly in understanding. "Another mystery, then, more pieces of the puzzle," he mused. He stood quietly, regarding Peter for a long moment before continuing. “I thought you’d promised Donna not to investigate further,” he finally said as he replaced the images in the folder before Peter. “I thought that she didn’t want to know about her past any longer."
Peter leaned forward suddenly, his eyes dark and dangerous as he stared at Ian. “I agreed no to investigate her missing time, yes, but this man?” He stabbed the folder before him, never breaking eye contact with his partner. "He’s no in her past. He’s here, now. He’s still followin' Donna, and he let me see him watchin’ us this weekend.” He sat back again, crossing his arms over his chest as he considered the security image of the Phantom approaching Donna. He frowned as he tossed it back onto the folder before him. "It wasnae an accident, it was a purposeful action. He wanted me to know he was there, and I want to know why."
**********
Wednesday, July 4, 2012 7:40 PM
"So I was thinkin', Policeman, once my tenure at C&G is over, I'm gonna take a more hands-on approach at Noble Endeavors,” Donna said, rinsing off a plate and handing it over to Peter to dry. "Not the established departments, mind, they're doin' just fine on their own. I thought maybe I'd just take a more active role in Maddie's project and help her out?“
“I’m sure your efforts will be appreciated," Peter agreed as he put the plate back in the cupboard. "How much longer will ye be there at Cheltenham & Gloucester, then?” he asked with a considering nod.
“Another two or three weeks,” Donna replied, handing him the last glass as she let the water empty out of the basin. “Iona’s goin’ a bit stir-crazy, bein’ home with her mum all the time and besides, they could use the extra income with the baby and all.” She wiped her hands on a towel and wiped up the counter as he replaced the glass in the cabinet. “Anyway, we have got to move on this, and soon, I told Maddie. We need to build up the momentum, get more local support, make this a real community project. It's the best way to build in longevity, if everyone has some sort of investment in it, in seein it work,” she finished, her eyes fired with determination. She turned to Peter and found him gazing at her with a wistful smile.
"What? What is it?” Donna asked, puzzled at his expression. "Have I got somethin' on my face?”she asked with a wry smile. Suddenly, she paled and blinked rapidly, looking at him with something akin to panic. "Have I got somethin' on my back?” she demanded, trying to look over her shoulder in alarm. Her breathing shallowed and, closing her eyes, she shivered. Peter saw the change come over her and knew she’d slipped out of synch with the present, and he was dismayed but not surprised to see her right hand starting to flutter towards her left ring finger. He reached out and grasped her hand instead, rubbing his thumb gently across the spot where he had decided she would one day wear his ring. As if startling awake after a dream, Donna’s eyes flew open and she inhaled sharply. She stared at his hand on hers for a moment, dazed, before she looked up into his face and broke out in a grin. "What? What is it?" she laughed, and Peter knew she had no idea she was repeating herself.
"Are ye all right, Donna?" he asked lightly so as not to alarm her. "Ye seemed miles away, Beloved."
“Sorry?” she asked, frowning slightly at the change in his tone. She cocked her head to the side, raising one eyebrow with a lopsided grin. "No, everything’s fine,” she replied, stepping closer and clasping her hands behind his neck. “In fact, it’s better than fine, it’s brilliant.”
He smiled despite his concern and trailed a fingertip along her jaw. “We,” he whispered. “That’s what ye said the other day, in my flat. When ye were upset by my neighbor, ye said ‘We have got to move’.”
“Did I?" she said, releasing him and blushing slightly as she made to step away. "Well, I was upset, now, wasn’t I?” She dipped her head and hid her eyes as her curtain of hair swung down between them.
Peter caught her gently about the waist with one arm and drew her back to him. “And when ye had the alarm put in, ye’d already decided on the renovations upstairs,” he continued quietly, lifting her hair back away from her face with one hand.
“What are you gettin’ at, Copper?” she said, trying for attitude but only achieving slightly breathless.
“I’m simply attemptin’ to ascertain the precise moment that we became ‘We’,” he said before brushing his lips gently against hers. “It’s another anniversary to celebrate, a chuisle.”
She wanted to roll her eyes. She wanted to bat his chest and call him bonkers. She wanted to hide behind bluster and bolshy noise, but when he kissed her again, the raw honesty of his emotions overwhelmed her and all her pretenses fell away.
"Stop it, Peter. Just stop, please?" she finally said, breaking away and blushing furiously.
"Why? Why won't ye tell me, Beloved?" he asked, confused by her reticence.
She ran her tongue over her lips and fixed her eyes on a point above his head. Peter saw the tears standing in her eyes and for a moment, he was sure she was preparing herself to dart away before she sniffed and looked down at her bare feet. "I'm afraid, I suppose," she finally admitted, anxiously chewing her bottom lip. "I'm afraid of what you might think I expect, from you, from our ... relationship. I mean, it’s one thing to think about what livin' with someone might be like," she explained with a nervous laugh, "but it's somethin' else entirely to have your architect alter your flat to suit your lover without even consultin' him on it."
"Oh, Donna," he breathed, enfolding her in his arms and tucking her head beneath his chin. “ Don't ye know? Have I no told ye before? We were always headin' for this," he said and he felt her tremble against him.
“It's like destiny,” she whispered, frowning slightly at the ringing in her ears. “Like somethin’s drawin’ us together?”
He lifted her chin gingerly. “Aye,” he replied, slowly brushing his lips across hers. “We belong together, Donna Noble. I love ye, now and forever.”
“Forever,” she repeated. “I’m gonna be with you forever,” she said softly, caressing his cheek as a tear finally slipped down her face. ‘For the rest of my life."
**********
Thursday, July 5, 2012 2:18 AM
It's hot.
It's so hot, she's sweltering, roasting in her own juices and she’s certain that she must have drifted off in a sauna. She's sweating so heavily, she's nearly swimming in it. Donna's burning up and she can't escape. It's coming from inside her, swelling around her, engulfing her, sweeping her up and carrying her away. It's terrible and it’s beautiful and she needs it to stop and she wants it to never end.
She hears a voice raised in agonized yearning, wanting her to stay, and horrified that she might try to do just that. She's shaking, violently, and there's something surrounding her, binding her arms to her body, encasing her, entombing her, and just as she's sure she's about to burst into flame, something gentle, something blessedly cool flutters against her temples. Her eyes fly open as she screams.
**********
Peter opened his eyes slowly, jostled awake by the woman stirring restlessly beside him. Donna was pushing against him, forcing him away as she tossed and turned, mumbling in her sleep. He blinked slowly and forced himself up, rolling onto his side and bracing himself on one elbow as he tried to determine what was happening. Was she having a nightmare? He watched her in her sleep as a tiny frown creased her face and her chin trembled.
“Donna,” he said quietly as he reached out to stroke her cheek. She seemed to be glowing faintly, enveloped in a pale golden haze and he blinked in confusion, looking around for the source of the light. She shuddered violently and her breathing hitched as she turned away from him, mumbling, still trapped in her mind. Peter frowned when she continued to push away from him and he heard her breathing become erratic.
"Love, wake up," he said a bit louder, fumbling awkwardly for the bedside lamp before he remembered they weren't in his flat. He could feel the heat pouring off her as he reached across to turn on the light and he was momentarily shocked by what he saw. Donna stirred restlessly beside him, jerking her head from side to side. She was flushed and her hair was dark with sweat, sticking to her face and molding itself to her neck as she fought against the blankets binding her. She began to thrash about desperately, tangled up in the sheets and straight-jacketed in. Peter flung off the blankets covering them to find her drenched in sweat and shivering, her hands flexing convulsively as she continued to writhe and moan.
“Donna, wake up. Please, Love,” he pleaded, reaching over to grasp her shoulder. He gave a gentle shake and she whimpered, her soft cry becomming a groan when his fingers wrapped around her arm. Donna twisted away as if burned by his touch and she gulped down air in great, hiccuping sobs.
“No. Oh my God, I can’t….,” she muttered, turning away from him frantically. Fearing that she was having a seizure brought on by what must be a raging fever, Peter fought down his growing panic when Donna failed to respond to his efforts to rouse her. He twisted around to face her, reaching out to stroke her damp hair away as he leaned in to press his lips to her forehead.
“Come on, Love, wake up,” he murmured as he pulled her up and into his arms. Her head lolled back and as he shifted her body so that she lay cradled in his lap, he realized she was mumbling, chanting a desperate plea.
"No. No. No, don't make me…,” she cried and the rest was lost as she fought weakly against his arms around her. "Doctor, please, please don't make me…” Donna pleaded, her voice rising with her desperation and Peter frowned, unsure of what he'd heard. He brushed her fringe back out of her eyes and tried to sooth her, his long fingers framing her face with a gentle caress.
“Donna, look at me,” he begged and before he could say another word, she shot away and was gone from his embrace.
"No!" she shrieked, sounding as if the cry was torn from her very soul. Donna scrabbled back frantically and slammed herself against the bedroom wall, and even as he reached for her again, he knew she was still asleep. "I said no," she declared, one hand braced against the wall behind her and the other flung out to stop his advance. She stood there, panting, nearly vibrating with fury and despair and this time, there was no mistaking the light he saw dancing in her eyes like St. Elmo's fire. "I begged and I pleaded and I. Said. No," she accused as she slumped back against the wall.
"Donna, I donae understand," he said, reaching out for her but not stepping closer. "Ye're no well, Love. Let me help ye." At the sound of his voice, Donna inhaled sharply and confusion shimmered across her features. She blinked hard, staring at the bandages that still covered his upper arm.
"But...but...?" she stammered and he saw her eyes clear as the terror receded along with the dream. "...Peter?" Donna whispered in a small, fragile voice. The tendrils of gold that danced around her head like a halo dimmed as she dropped her hand and the first tear fell when he surged forward to embrace her.
"I said no," she sobbed, reaching out for him and guiding his trembling hands back to her face. She closed her eyes in relief when his fingers settled gently at her temples, and as her knees gave way, he guided her gently to the floor.
"Peter, I said no," she repeated as she looked up into his eyes and willed him to understand. "I said no...." He felt her shudder again and just before she slipped away into oblivion, he heard her whisper, "and he did it anyway."
Part 1 | Part 5 | Part 10 | Part 15 | Part 20.1 | Part 25 | Part 30 | Part 35.1