An Officer and the Noble Woman, Part 45
An Officer and the Noble Woman, Part 45
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 graciously offered her awesome beta reader skills. Thanks always for the support and suggestions.
Rating: PG for Plot Galore folowed by implied smut.Word Count: a surprising 3,800 words.
Disclaimer: Donna and Peter- not mine, but in my mind. It's been awhile since I've written the two of them together and for that, if anyone has been looking for them, I apologize.
Part 1 | Part 5 | Part 10 | Part 15 | Part 20.1 | Part 25 | Part 30 | Part 35.1 | Part 40
Wednesday, July 25, 2012 7:44 PM
"It’s now,” he thought bleakly, staring down at his mobile. He carefully disengaged it from the sync station attached to his laptop and paused, contemplating the device as it lay cradled in his hand. "It’s now or never. I’ve no reason to postpone-“
“Peter, how many boxes do you want to take tonight?” Donna called out from the other room, startling him from his ruminations. "I know we’ve got another four weeks to clear you out of here, but the more we take now, the less we'll have to do later. And should I gather up some clothes, too? We don’t have to take them from the hangers, we can just lay them over the boxes in the back seat and then move them to the wardrobe at home.”
“Uh, yeah,” he answered, feeling distinctly nonplussed. "Whatever ye want.”
She poked her head around the corner and frowned, taking in his odd, almost guilty expression as he slipped his mobile into his pocket. He pasted on a cheery grin which relaxed into a genuine smile as he realized what she’d just said: home.
“Are you all right, Copper?” Donna asked, coming into the living room and setting down the box she carried before picking her way across the cluttered flat to stand in front of him. “What’s wrong? What’s that look for?” she fired off, not waiting for his answer. “Don’t tell me, let me guess: indigestion? I mean I can’t believe the amount of food in that tiffin you put away tonight! I must admit, that bit of chicken tikka makhani you shared was good enough that I don’t half blame you, but you’re sufferin’ for it now, aren’t cha?" she babbled nervously, reaching up to push his hair off his forehead. "I’ll bet you’re gonna miss havin’ a place to crash so close after one of those massive meals at the Bulls Head."
"Donna, I’m fine,” he assured her quietly, reaching to take both her hands in his. “I'm no feelin' any ill effects from dinner, I promise. But there is somethin' I need to talk to ye about, somethin’ I found out yesterday. I’ve been thinkin’ about how best to tell ye and I think we should sit down,“ he said firmly, but his conviction wavered at the uncertainty in her eyes. He tugged his ear and nodded towards the couch, watching as the tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lips while she tried to process what he was saying. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing at it nervously for a moment before she realized he was looking at her expectantly.
“OK, Copper,” she blustered, tossing her head to swing her hair over her shoulder. “But I warn you, it’s too late to tell me you want the right side of the wardrobe. I’ve already settled all my clothes and things and I’m of no mind to move them just to suit your whim.” Donna schooled her her features into cautious curiosity but Peter felt the tension in the room ratchet up with each beat of his heart.
“It’s nothin’ like that, a chuisle. Everythin's fine, I promise.” Peter smiled reassuringly as he led her to the sofa, pushing a box of books out of the way to make room for the both of them to sit. He settled her in beside him and turned so that he could face her. “I have some information I need to share with ye and after we’ve discussed the implications, ye'll have a decision to make."
“Oh, and that doesn’t sound at all ominous,” Donna breathed, sitting up straighter, her eyes searching his face for a sign. “Just tell me, Peter- are you havin’ second thoughts? Did I rush you into this, movin’ in and all? Cos there’s no hurry, you know, we can wait if you want. I mean-"
“Donna,” Peter sighed. “I’ve told ye, I want this. I want to be with ye. Do ye no trust me?”
“Of course I do,” she replied instantly, her voice wavering slightly. “But you’re makin’ me nervous, Policeman.”
“There’s no cause for ye to be upset,” he assured her. He squeezed her hand gently, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, looking down at their interlaced fingers for a moment as he gathered his courage. “I know I promised to stop lookin’ into yer past,” he said earnestly, gazing up into her worried, wary eyes. “And I had every intention of acquiescin' to yer wishes, I honestly did. But in this instance, yer past came lookin’ fer me.”
“What are you tellin’ me, Policeman?” Donna whispered, her eyes growing wide.
"That man, Jack Harkness, the one you confronted in S&G,” Peter said evenly, watching her all the while. “He found me the other night an-“
“WHAT?!?" she shrieked, almost rising to her feet in fear.
“Donna, shhhh. It’s fine, I’m fine, it’s all right,” he murmured comfortingly, reaching for her hands and drawing her back to him again.
"Oh, Peter, you said he was dangerous! When did this happen?" she demanded frantically, gripping his hand tighter. "Where were you? What did he want? Who was -“
"A ghrá geal,” he murmured, pulling her closer. “It’s all right. I’ll answer all yer questions, I promise. Just be patient and stay calm for me, aye?”
Donna eyed him nervously before giving him a short, sharp nod of agreement and Peter smiled despite himself.
“Two weeks back, the night you and Maddie went to inspect the lightin’ in the new gallery after dinner, Captain Harkness was waitin’ for me in the car park when I left Ian’s flat,” he said slowly, monitoring Donna’s reactions. She swallowed hard but otherwise appeared composed, nodding again for him to continue.
“He wanted to talk and judgin' by what he had to say, I’m fairly sure it wasnae an officially-approved visit,” he mused, scratching at the back of his neck, his face scrunched up in thought.
“Oh, any visit from him is officially unwelcome by me. Just the sight of that man makes me want to crawl right out of my skin,” Donna muttered, hugging herself tightly. "I dunno what it is exactly, but there’s somethin’ about him that just isn’t right. If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll keep his distance in future,” she added with a dismissive nod. “And he may be pretty but he’s entirely up himself as well."
Peter snorted in amusement and allowed himself a tiny but proud smile before he continued. “As I was sayin’, the good Captain had some information to pass on and a bit of a warnin’. He admitted that Torchwood has been keepin' tabs on ye, monitorin' yer health remotely and even goin’ so far as to actively put surveillance on ye since we’ve been together.”
“But why?” Donna interrupted indignantly, her patience with her entire situation wearing a bit thin. “Why all this trouble about me? I’m nothin’, a nobody! I’m just a temp, for Go-“
“No, Donna, no in my presence,” he interrupted, putting a restraining finger to her lips. “Remember, ye’re no to talk that way any longer. Now, let me finish, aye?” Donna harrumphed, pulling her hands back and awkwardly crossing her arms over her chest. Her eyes flicked nervously between his face and his hands, laying limply on his knees where she’d left them.
“The good Captain wanted me t’ know that his mandate was to protect ye, and that yer memory loss is due to some sort of an accident involvin' Dr. Smith. Once again, someone somewhere seems t' think that because I bear a slight resemblance to that man, I’m somehow a danger t’ ye,” Peter continued, rolling his eyes at the stupidity of the supposition. He sat back heavily and ran his hand through his hair, shrugging his shoulders as he continued. “I figure that, for whatever reason, these people are relieved ye cannae recall somethin’ that happened to ye or somethin' ye saw when you were workin' for Dr. Smith. It's drivin' me spare that I cannae find out anythin' more about him. John Smith is an obvious pseudonym and I’ve no way to discover his true name. Until I do, all I can prove is that he's some sort of consultant for UNIT and that ye were that man's Personal Assistant." He spat the last two words out with a dark expression, his lip curling in disgust and Peter looked away, trying to control his temper as he searched for the words to go on.
"There's more you aren't tellin' me, Peter,” Donna stated bluntly, but her tone was patient.
He considered denying it then, just locking his suspicions away and burying them deep in his heart, but the bitter memory of what that particular strategy had yielded in the past forced him onward. "Maybe it's to do with national security, or some secret project, or, or... I dunno,” he went on, waving his hand about in exasperation. “Anyway, they’re afraid that ye bein’ with me will jog yer memory or some such nonsense, and that rememberin' will somehow put ye physically in danger.”
“That’s just bonkers, Peter,” Donna scoffed. She shifted around awkwardly, her knees bumping against his. “What could I possibly remember that could be so dangerous? And you! Why not tell me all this before? Why all the spy-movie secrecy from you?”
He sighed deeply and leaned forward again, bracing his elbows on his knees and running both hands violently through his hair before bringing them down to scrub his face. For a bare instant, Peter’s face threatened to crumple as he gazed up at her before he tried again to don his mask of cool competence.
"I suspect that he..." he began, then stopped again with a shake of his head. "From some of the things ye've said… especially durin’ that last incident, in the throes of fever…” He swallowed hard before trying once more. "Donna, I suspect that Dr. Smith ..."
"Out with it, Policeman," Donna said gently, laying a hand on his knee and giving it an encouraging squeeze.
“I fear that Dr. Smith may have assaulted ye physically and because of who he is, Torchwood stepped in and erased yer memory of the attack,” he finally admitted and at that, the dam within him broke and the accusations began to flow. "I think that because of the work ye did with that man, ye knew things that UNIT and Torchwood didnae want made public, but if they had simply followed their protocols and contrived a situation to make ye vanish, the ruckus Wilf and yer mum would have kicked up would have led to uncomfortable questions. And last, I believe Dr. Smith knows exactly where ye are and what yer doin’, and because he fears yer memories will return if ye see him, I think he’s enlisted Torchwood in surveillin’ ye and keepin’ ye in the dark.”
Donna opened her mouth to respond, but for the first time in recent memory, she was speechless. She formulated a thousand million questions, and Peter watched as she considered and rejected them all. She gaped at him in consternation, swallowing hard and nodding. “Peter, I don’t think… but I don’t know,,,, I can’t remember…”
"Donna, I’m afraid,” Peter confessed when she didn’t continue, slowly pulling her hands back into his lap. He rubbed a careful thumb across her knuckles, briefly wondering at how well her hand fit his, despite the undeniable difference in size. He forced himself to look back at her face, and the confusion he saw prompted him to continue. "Captain Harkness, he all but admitted that Dr. Smith is responsible fer everythin’ that’s happened to ye, that he’s the reason ye cannae remember and I’m afraid of what might have happened to ye. I’m afraid if ye remember, ye willnae be able to look at me the same way again. I'm afraid that I’ll be forever tarred with the same brush and that whenever ye look at me, I’ll be a naught but a constant reminder of whatever it is he’s done.”
Shaken by his admission, Donna smiled. “That won’t happen, Policeman,” she promised, raising a hand to his face to cup his cheek. “I know that much. I love you. That’s not about to change, whethe I remember or no. It’s not possible.” She tilted his head up slightly and was distressed to see the faint shimmer of tears forming as he met her gaze.
"I want ye to be happy. I want ye to do whatever ye need to do for us to be happy together," he told her. "Donna, I do nae want to lose ye, to lose what we have because of the ghosts in our respective pasts.”
“Our pasts, Policeman?” Donna said softly, stroking along his jaw. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch for as long as his guilty conscience could bear before sitting back.
Peter inhaled deeply and frowned as he considered his next words. "Donna, ye know about Natalie. Ye know I loved her, I truly loved her, with all my heart and soul," he explained. "But because I loved her, I kept somethin' from her. Somethin' I should have told her straightaway, as soon as I knew. But I thought I was protecting her; her and Danny both, by keeping what I'd learned to myself."
"And what was that, Policeman?" she asked.
He shifted in his seat, glancing at the ceiling and exhaling heavily before he replied. “Durin’ a dinner party for her birthday, I accidentally discovered that it was her boy Danny was responsible for the murder I’d been sent to Blackpool to investigate. Danny Holden was the one who killed Mike Hooley.”
“And he just told you this?” Donna breathed, clearly horrified. “On his mum’s birthday?"
Peter’s lips quirked in an ironic smile. “No in so many words, no. Danny settled the bill that night before I’d had the chance to and when I went to find him and repay him, I found him sitting at the bar alone. I came up from behind the lad and laid my hand on his shoulder and told him that I knew what he'd done. Given the circumstances and a guilty conscience, naturally, he assumed the worst." Donna winced in sympathy but said nothing. "He didnae confess or do anythin’ to incriminate himself. Danny swiftly recovered his wits, but he knew his reaction had betrayed him and that the damage was done. He left the party soon after."
"So what happened next?" she asked.
He sighed and braced his elbow against the back of the couch, resting his cheek in his hand. "I skived off work the next day and drove down to Blackpool, lookin’ for a woman who’d been involved with the case. She knew both Holdens, Danny and his father, and I knew she knew more about what had happened that night than she was tellin' at the time. I found her at her new job and I … persuaded her ... to sit and listen while I laid out what I suspected. When I’d finished, I knew I was right. It all made sense. It was an accident, mind,” Peter hastened to clarify. “Danny’d been protectin' this woman when Hooley attacked her. He was barely more than a kid at the time, and Hooley? He was off his nut on drugs and whatnot. When Danny hit him, Hooley went down hard and stayed there. The boy had no way of knowin' that Hooley was bleedin' internally, dyin’, right there on the floor in front of him. He just knew his friend was in danger and he reacted instinctively. I can understand that.” He fell silent and stared out of the window behind Donna.
“Anyway,” he drawled abruptly, sitting up and vigorously rubbing his hands over his face once more, “it does nae matter, no anymore and no then, either. It was just my curiosity, my need for closure that made me investigate. I had no intention of reopenin' the case and draggin' Danny in to court, and no just fer Natalie’s sake.” He dropped his hands and gave Donna a curiously philosophical look. "It may not have been strictly lawful, mind, but Hooley got what was comin’ to him,” he concluded thoughtfully.
Donna raised an incredulous eyebrow, unable to believe her ears. “Peter Carlisle, you can’t mean that!” she said, aghast.
“But I do,” he swore passionately. “Hooley was a violent man. He had a history of abusin’ women and I’ve no tolerance for a man who would raise a hand in anger to those he’s sworn to cherish and honor, through this life and into the next. His fiancée should count herself fortunate to escape the hell her life would have been with him.” A shadow passed over Peter's fine features as he muttered, “A double blessing there will be no children made to see that, nor suffer a leathering at his hand neither.”
Donna’s expression softened as she realized this man had probably seen horrors she could scarcely imagine in the course of his duties. She wondered what that might do to a sensitive soul over the course of a lifetime and as he avoided meeting her gaze, she found herself praying his vehement reaction sprang only from his professional experience. Sensing the path to which her thoughts had turned, Peter offered up a wan smile and plowed on.
"After my suspicions were more or less confirmed, I decided I'd just let it lie. After all that time, I thought that it would just go away." He ducked his head and sniffed before scratching at his nose in a nervous gesture she'd rarely seen from him. "Little did I realize at the time that it was the worst thing I could have done. Danny confessed to Natalie soon after and told her I knew, too.”
“So she didn’t leave you just because she wanted to be on her own, then,” Donna murmured thoughtfully. “All right. OK. That I can understand.” She looked up to see the flash of pain on Peter’s face as he quickly averted his eyes. “Oh, Peter, it’s just that what you told me before, about Natalie leaving because she said she wanted to be her own woman? Well it just didn’t ring true. She went through all that drama and left her husband over you, and then she just up and decides she wants to be on her own? I didn’t buy it. I just couldn’t believe anyone would willingly let you go, that’s all,’ she hastened to explain. "But a mother afraid for her child? That’s something I can understand."
His lips quirked briefly into a reluctant smile before Peter swallowed hard and continued. "She never said anythin' and neither did I. My silence, it broke us, in the end. I didnae tell her when I should have. I thought I was protectin' us, but she did nae trust me after. And regardless of the kind lies she told me about wantin’ to be on her own when she left, I knew it was because she feared for Danny and no longer trusted what I said. If’d I’d just been honest about what I knew and when I knew it….I won't make that mistake again."
Peter reached behind himself as he spoke and pulled his mobile from his hip pocket. He stared at it, unseeing, before swallowing hard. “Donna, after Captain Harkness found me, I followed up with the ambulance service and the paramedic who answered the call I made in the park that day. I wanted to see if he could corroborate what I’d learned and shed more light on yer case. As it turns out, he did. Geoff Hinton, he .... He gave me a number.” He stared bleakly at his mobile before thumbing it to life and laying it on the arm of the sofa between them.
“What number, Policeman?” Donna whispered, warily regarding the device where it lay, staring at the number on the screen before looking back to Peter’s brave face.
"A number he is to call only if ever your fever rises to 41.2°C. It's a very precise medical target, Donna, one only a doctor would be likely to specify. Donna,” Peter whispered earnestly, “I’m sure that if you were to press that button and make that call, you'd be talking to your Doctor Smith."
Donna regarded Peter’s phone where it lay, clearly weighing up her options. He clasped his hands together, forcing himself to watch her deliberations, determined not to influence her decision even as his heart attempted to hammer through his rib cage from within. “You want me to make this call?” Donna asked slowly, her voice unwavering. “Here? Now?"
“If that’s what ye want. If that will make ye happy,” he replied immediately. Peter set his jaw and looked into Donna's eyes, determined to hide his pain and fear and remain supportive. “I just want ye to know, whatever ye decide, whatever happens…I love ye, Donna. I’m here for ye, no matter what. I want ye to be happy, and if that means that ye find yer past again and decide to-"
"Hand it over, Copper,” Donna interrupted with deadly calm, her palm turned up expectantly. He hesitated for the briefest of moments before passing his mobile to her. Peter held his breath and swallowed as Donna clasped it to her chest and closed her eyes for the span of his frantic heartbeat. She glanced once more at the innocuous device in her hand before looking back into Peter’s eyes and she calmly punched the button that deleted the entry entirely.
“I told you once, you prawn,” she said, her eyes shining as she tossed his mobile back. “You are the man I've been lookin’ for my whole life. It doesn’t matter that I can’t remember. I know I have have never loved anyone as much as I love you, and I never will again. That’s what you have to remember.” Her teasing smile stretched into a full-on grin when she saw Peter’s expression morph as he realized what she’d done. Donna reached out and stroked his cheek, leaning forward and pressing him against the box behind him as she kissed him deeply. “Now, what say you about the two of us goin’ to your bedroom to disturb your long-suffering upstairs neighbor one last time, for old time’s sake?”
“Oh, aye, Miss Noble,” he agreed, standing and pulling her up after him into a tender embrace. He smiled against her lips and whispered, “Let’s leave the upstairs and downstairs neighbors with somethin’ to complain about in the lift long after we’re gone from here."
Part 1 | Part 5 | Part 10 | Part 15 | Part 20.1 | Part 25 | Part 30 | Part 35.1 | 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 graciously offered her awesome beta reader skills. Thanks always for the support and suggestions.
Rating: PG for Plot Galore folowed by implied smut.Word Count: a surprising 3,800 words.
Disclaimer: Donna and Peter- not mine, but in my mind. It's been awhile since I've written the two of them together and for that, if anyone has been looking for them, I apologize.
Part 1 | Part 5 | Part 10 | Part 15 | Part 20.1 | Part 25 | Part 30 | Part 35.1 | Part 40
Wednesday, July 25, 2012 7:44 PM
"It’s now,” he thought bleakly, staring down at his mobile. He carefully disengaged it from the sync station attached to his laptop and paused, contemplating the device as it lay cradled in his hand. "It’s now or never. I’ve no reason to postpone-“
“Peter, how many boxes do you want to take tonight?” Donna called out from the other room, startling him from his ruminations. "I know we’ve got another four weeks to clear you out of here, but the more we take now, the less we'll have to do later. And should I gather up some clothes, too? We don’t have to take them from the hangers, we can just lay them over the boxes in the back seat and then move them to the wardrobe at home.”
“Uh, yeah,” he answered, feeling distinctly nonplussed. "Whatever ye want.”
She poked her head around the corner and frowned, taking in his odd, almost guilty expression as he slipped his mobile into his pocket. He pasted on a cheery grin which relaxed into a genuine smile as he realized what she’d just said: home.
“Are you all right, Copper?” Donna asked, coming into the living room and setting down the box she carried before picking her way across the cluttered flat to stand in front of him. “What’s wrong? What’s that look for?” she fired off, not waiting for his answer. “Don’t tell me, let me guess: indigestion? I mean I can’t believe the amount of food in that tiffin you put away tonight! I must admit, that bit of chicken tikka makhani you shared was good enough that I don’t half blame you, but you’re sufferin’ for it now, aren’t cha?" she babbled nervously, reaching up to push his hair off his forehead. "I’ll bet you’re gonna miss havin’ a place to crash so close after one of those massive meals at the Bulls Head."
"Donna, I’m fine,” he assured her quietly, reaching to take both her hands in his. “I'm no feelin' any ill effects from dinner, I promise. But there is somethin' I need to talk to ye about, somethin’ I found out yesterday. I’ve been thinkin’ about how best to tell ye and I think we should sit down,“ he said firmly, but his conviction wavered at the uncertainty in her eyes. He tugged his ear and nodded towards the couch, watching as the tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lips while she tried to process what he was saying. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing at it nervously for a moment before she realized he was looking at her expectantly.
“OK, Copper,” she blustered, tossing her head to swing her hair over her shoulder. “But I warn you, it’s too late to tell me you want the right side of the wardrobe. I’ve already settled all my clothes and things and I’m of no mind to move them just to suit your whim.” Donna schooled her her features into cautious curiosity but Peter felt the tension in the room ratchet up with each beat of his heart.
“It’s nothin’ like that, a chuisle. Everythin's fine, I promise.” Peter smiled reassuringly as he led her to the sofa, pushing a box of books out of the way to make room for the both of them to sit. He settled her in beside him and turned so that he could face her. “I have some information I need to share with ye and after we’ve discussed the implications, ye'll have a decision to make."
“Oh, and that doesn’t sound at all ominous,” Donna breathed, sitting up straighter, her eyes searching his face for a sign. “Just tell me, Peter- are you havin’ second thoughts? Did I rush you into this, movin’ in and all? Cos there’s no hurry, you know, we can wait if you want. I mean-"
“Donna,” Peter sighed. “I’ve told ye, I want this. I want to be with ye. Do ye no trust me?”
“Of course I do,” she replied instantly, her voice wavering slightly. “But you’re makin’ me nervous, Policeman.”
“There’s no cause for ye to be upset,” he assured her. He squeezed her hand gently, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, looking down at their interlaced fingers for a moment as he gathered his courage. “I know I promised to stop lookin’ into yer past,” he said earnestly, gazing up into her worried, wary eyes. “And I had every intention of acquiescin' to yer wishes, I honestly did. But in this instance, yer past came lookin’ fer me.”
“What are you tellin’ me, Policeman?” Donna whispered, her eyes growing wide.
"That man, Jack Harkness, the one you confronted in S&G,” Peter said evenly, watching her all the while. “He found me the other night an-“
“WHAT?!?" she shrieked, almost rising to her feet in fear.
“Donna, shhhh. It’s fine, I’m fine, it’s all right,” he murmured comfortingly, reaching for her hands and drawing her back to him again.
"Oh, Peter, you said he was dangerous! When did this happen?" she demanded frantically, gripping his hand tighter. "Where were you? What did he want? Who was -“
"A ghrá geal,” he murmured, pulling her closer. “It’s all right. I’ll answer all yer questions, I promise. Just be patient and stay calm for me, aye?”
Donna eyed him nervously before giving him a short, sharp nod of agreement and Peter smiled despite himself.
“Two weeks back, the night you and Maddie went to inspect the lightin’ in the new gallery after dinner, Captain Harkness was waitin’ for me in the car park when I left Ian’s flat,” he said slowly, monitoring Donna’s reactions. She swallowed hard but otherwise appeared composed, nodding again for him to continue.
“He wanted to talk and judgin' by what he had to say, I’m fairly sure it wasnae an officially-approved visit,” he mused, scratching at the back of his neck, his face scrunched up in thought.
“Oh, any visit from him is officially unwelcome by me. Just the sight of that man makes me want to crawl right out of my skin,” Donna muttered, hugging herself tightly. "I dunno what it is exactly, but there’s somethin’ about him that just isn’t right. If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll keep his distance in future,” she added with a dismissive nod. “And he may be pretty but he’s entirely up himself as well."
Peter snorted in amusement and allowed himself a tiny but proud smile before he continued. “As I was sayin’, the good Captain had some information to pass on and a bit of a warnin’. He admitted that Torchwood has been keepin' tabs on ye, monitorin' yer health remotely and even goin’ so far as to actively put surveillance on ye since we’ve been together.”
“But why?” Donna interrupted indignantly, her patience with her entire situation wearing a bit thin. “Why all this trouble about me? I’m nothin’, a nobody! I’m just a temp, for Go-“
“No, Donna, no in my presence,” he interrupted, putting a restraining finger to her lips. “Remember, ye’re no to talk that way any longer. Now, let me finish, aye?” Donna harrumphed, pulling her hands back and awkwardly crossing her arms over her chest. Her eyes flicked nervously between his face and his hands, laying limply on his knees where she’d left them.
“The good Captain wanted me t’ know that his mandate was to protect ye, and that yer memory loss is due to some sort of an accident involvin' Dr. Smith. Once again, someone somewhere seems t' think that because I bear a slight resemblance to that man, I’m somehow a danger t’ ye,” Peter continued, rolling his eyes at the stupidity of the supposition. He sat back heavily and ran his hand through his hair, shrugging his shoulders as he continued. “I figure that, for whatever reason, these people are relieved ye cannae recall somethin’ that happened to ye or somethin' ye saw when you were workin' for Dr. Smith. It's drivin' me spare that I cannae find out anythin' more about him. John Smith is an obvious pseudonym and I’ve no way to discover his true name. Until I do, all I can prove is that he's some sort of consultant for UNIT and that ye were that man's Personal Assistant." He spat the last two words out with a dark expression, his lip curling in disgust and Peter looked away, trying to control his temper as he searched for the words to go on.
"There's more you aren't tellin' me, Peter,” Donna stated bluntly, but her tone was patient.
He considered denying it then, just locking his suspicions away and burying them deep in his heart, but the bitter memory of what that particular strategy had yielded in the past forced him onward. "Maybe it's to do with national security, or some secret project, or, or... I dunno,” he went on, waving his hand about in exasperation. “Anyway, they’re afraid that ye bein’ with me will jog yer memory or some such nonsense, and that rememberin' will somehow put ye physically in danger.”
“That’s just bonkers, Peter,” Donna scoffed. She shifted around awkwardly, her knees bumping against his. “What could I possibly remember that could be so dangerous? And you! Why not tell me all this before? Why all the spy-movie secrecy from you?”
He sighed deeply and leaned forward again, bracing his elbows on his knees and running both hands violently through his hair before bringing them down to scrub his face. For a bare instant, Peter’s face threatened to crumple as he gazed up at her before he tried again to don his mask of cool competence.
"I suspect that he..." he began, then stopped again with a shake of his head. "From some of the things ye've said… especially durin’ that last incident, in the throes of fever…” He swallowed hard before trying once more. "Donna, I suspect that Dr. Smith ..."
"Out with it, Policeman," Donna said gently, laying a hand on his knee and giving it an encouraging squeeze.
“I fear that Dr. Smith may have assaulted ye physically and because of who he is, Torchwood stepped in and erased yer memory of the attack,” he finally admitted and at that, the dam within him broke and the accusations began to flow. "I think that because of the work ye did with that man, ye knew things that UNIT and Torchwood didnae want made public, but if they had simply followed their protocols and contrived a situation to make ye vanish, the ruckus Wilf and yer mum would have kicked up would have led to uncomfortable questions. And last, I believe Dr. Smith knows exactly where ye are and what yer doin’, and because he fears yer memories will return if ye see him, I think he’s enlisted Torchwood in surveillin’ ye and keepin’ ye in the dark.”
Donna opened her mouth to respond, but for the first time in recent memory, she was speechless. She formulated a thousand million questions, and Peter watched as she considered and rejected them all. She gaped at him in consternation, swallowing hard and nodding. “Peter, I don’t think… but I don’t know,,,, I can’t remember…”
"Donna, I’m afraid,” Peter confessed when she didn’t continue, slowly pulling her hands back into his lap. He rubbed a careful thumb across her knuckles, briefly wondering at how well her hand fit his, despite the undeniable difference in size. He forced himself to look back at her face, and the confusion he saw prompted him to continue. "Captain Harkness, he all but admitted that Dr. Smith is responsible fer everythin’ that’s happened to ye, that he’s the reason ye cannae remember and I’m afraid of what might have happened to ye. I’m afraid if ye remember, ye willnae be able to look at me the same way again. I'm afraid that I’ll be forever tarred with the same brush and that whenever ye look at me, I’ll be a naught but a constant reminder of whatever it is he’s done.”
Shaken by his admission, Donna smiled. “That won’t happen, Policeman,” she promised, raising a hand to his face to cup his cheek. “I know that much. I love you. That’s not about to change, whethe I remember or no. It’s not possible.” She tilted his head up slightly and was distressed to see the faint shimmer of tears forming as he met her gaze.
"I want ye to be happy. I want ye to do whatever ye need to do for us to be happy together," he told her. "Donna, I do nae want to lose ye, to lose what we have because of the ghosts in our respective pasts.”
“Our pasts, Policeman?” Donna said softly, stroking along his jaw. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch for as long as his guilty conscience could bear before sitting back.
Peter inhaled deeply and frowned as he considered his next words. "Donna, ye know about Natalie. Ye know I loved her, I truly loved her, with all my heart and soul," he explained. "But because I loved her, I kept somethin' from her. Somethin' I should have told her straightaway, as soon as I knew. But I thought I was protecting her; her and Danny both, by keeping what I'd learned to myself."
"And what was that, Policeman?" she asked.
He shifted in his seat, glancing at the ceiling and exhaling heavily before he replied. “Durin’ a dinner party for her birthday, I accidentally discovered that it was her boy Danny was responsible for the murder I’d been sent to Blackpool to investigate. Danny Holden was the one who killed Mike Hooley.”
“And he just told you this?” Donna breathed, clearly horrified. “On his mum’s birthday?"
Peter’s lips quirked in an ironic smile. “No in so many words, no. Danny settled the bill that night before I’d had the chance to and when I went to find him and repay him, I found him sitting at the bar alone. I came up from behind the lad and laid my hand on his shoulder and told him that I knew what he'd done. Given the circumstances and a guilty conscience, naturally, he assumed the worst." Donna winced in sympathy but said nothing. "He didnae confess or do anythin’ to incriminate himself. Danny swiftly recovered his wits, but he knew his reaction had betrayed him and that the damage was done. He left the party soon after."
"So what happened next?" she asked.
He sighed and braced his elbow against the back of the couch, resting his cheek in his hand. "I skived off work the next day and drove down to Blackpool, lookin’ for a woman who’d been involved with the case. She knew both Holdens, Danny and his father, and I knew she knew more about what had happened that night than she was tellin' at the time. I found her at her new job and I … persuaded her ... to sit and listen while I laid out what I suspected. When I’d finished, I knew I was right. It all made sense. It was an accident, mind,” Peter hastened to clarify. “Danny’d been protectin' this woman when Hooley attacked her. He was barely more than a kid at the time, and Hooley? He was off his nut on drugs and whatnot. When Danny hit him, Hooley went down hard and stayed there. The boy had no way of knowin' that Hooley was bleedin' internally, dyin’, right there on the floor in front of him. He just knew his friend was in danger and he reacted instinctively. I can understand that.” He fell silent and stared out of the window behind Donna.
“Anyway,” he drawled abruptly, sitting up and vigorously rubbing his hands over his face once more, “it does nae matter, no anymore and no then, either. It was just my curiosity, my need for closure that made me investigate. I had no intention of reopenin' the case and draggin' Danny in to court, and no just fer Natalie’s sake.” He dropped his hands and gave Donna a curiously philosophical look. "It may not have been strictly lawful, mind, but Hooley got what was comin’ to him,” he concluded thoughtfully.
Donna raised an incredulous eyebrow, unable to believe her ears. “Peter Carlisle, you can’t mean that!” she said, aghast.
“But I do,” he swore passionately. “Hooley was a violent man. He had a history of abusin’ women and I’ve no tolerance for a man who would raise a hand in anger to those he’s sworn to cherish and honor, through this life and into the next. His fiancée should count herself fortunate to escape the hell her life would have been with him.” A shadow passed over Peter's fine features as he muttered, “A double blessing there will be no children made to see that, nor suffer a leathering at his hand neither.”
Donna’s expression softened as she realized this man had probably seen horrors she could scarcely imagine in the course of his duties. She wondered what that might do to a sensitive soul over the course of a lifetime and as he avoided meeting her gaze, she found herself praying his vehement reaction sprang only from his professional experience. Sensing the path to which her thoughts had turned, Peter offered up a wan smile and plowed on.
"After my suspicions were more or less confirmed, I decided I'd just let it lie. After all that time, I thought that it would just go away." He ducked his head and sniffed before scratching at his nose in a nervous gesture she'd rarely seen from him. "Little did I realize at the time that it was the worst thing I could have done. Danny confessed to Natalie soon after and told her I knew, too.”
“So she didn’t leave you just because she wanted to be on her own, then,” Donna murmured thoughtfully. “All right. OK. That I can understand.” She looked up to see the flash of pain on Peter’s face as he quickly averted his eyes. “Oh, Peter, it’s just that what you told me before, about Natalie leaving because she said she wanted to be her own woman? Well it just didn’t ring true. She went through all that drama and left her husband over you, and then she just up and decides she wants to be on her own? I didn’t buy it. I just couldn’t believe anyone would willingly let you go, that’s all,’ she hastened to explain. "But a mother afraid for her child? That’s something I can understand."
His lips quirked briefly into a reluctant smile before Peter swallowed hard and continued. "She never said anythin' and neither did I. My silence, it broke us, in the end. I didnae tell her when I should have. I thought I was protectin' us, but she did nae trust me after. And regardless of the kind lies she told me about wantin’ to be on her own when she left, I knew it was because she feared for Danny and no longer trusted what I said. If’d I’d just been honest about what I knew and when I knew it….I won't make that mistake again."
Peter reached behind himself as he spoke and pulled his mobile from his hip pocket. He stared at it, unseeing, before swallowing hard. “Donna, after Captain Harkness found me, I followed up with the ambulance service and the paramedic who answered the call I made in the park that day. I wanted to see if he could corroborate what I’d learned and shed more light on yer case. As it turns out, he did. Geoff Hinton, he .... He gave me a number.” He stared bleakly at his mobile before thumbing it to life and laying it on the arm of the sofa between them.
“What number, Policeman?” Donna whispered, warily regarding the device where it lay, staring at the number on the screen before looking back to Peter’s brave face.
"A number he is to call only if ever your fever rises to 41.2°C. It's a very precise medical target, Donna, one only a doctor would be likely to specify. Donna,” Peter whispered earnestly, “I’m sure that if you were to press that button and make that call, you'd be talking to your Doctor Smith."
Donna regarded Peter’s phone where it lay, clearly weighing up her options. He clasped his hands together, forcing himself to watch her deliberations, determined not to influence her decision even as his heart attempted to hammer through his rib cage from within. “You want me to make this call?” Donna asked slowly, her voice unwavering. “Here? Now?"
“If that’s what ye want. If that will make ye happy,” he replied immediately. Peter set his jaw and looked into Donna's eyes, determined to hide his pain and fear and remain supportive. “I just want ye to know, whatever ye decide, whatever happens…I love ye, Donna. I’m here for ye, no matter what. I want ye to be happy, and if that means that ye find yer past again and decide to-"
"Hand it over, Copper,” Donna interrupted with deadly calm, her palm turned up expectantly. He hesitated for the briefest of moments before passing his mobile to her. Peter held his breath and swallowed as Donna clasped it to her chest and closed her eyes for the span of his frantic heartbeat. She glanced once more at the innocuous device in her hand before looking back into Peter’s eyes and she calmly punched the button that deleted the entry entirely.
“I told you once, you prawn,” she said, her eyes shining as she tossed his mobile back. “You are the man I've been lookin’ for my whole life. It doesn’t matter that I can’t remember. I know I have have never loved anyone as much as I love you, and I never will again. That’s what you have to remember.” Her teasing smile stretched into a full-on grin when she saw Peter’s expression morph as he realized what she’d done. Donna reached out and stroked his cheek, leaning forward and pressing him against the box behind him as she kissed him deeply. “Now, what say you about the two of us goin’ to your bedroom to disturb your long-suffering upstairs neighbor one last time, for old time’s sake?”
“Oh, aye, Miss Noble,” he agreed, standing and pulling her up after him into a tender embrace. He smiled against her lips and whispered, “Let’s leave the upstairs and downstairs neighbors with somethin’ to complain about in the lift long after we’re gone from here."
Part 1 | Part 5 | Part 10 | Part 15 | Part 20.1 | Part 25 | Part 30 | Part 35.1 | Part 40