An Officer and the Noble Woman, Part 8.2
Title: An Officer and the Noble Woman, Part 8.2 (8.2 of ?)
Author: dtstrainers
Paring: Donna Noble/Peter Carlisle
Beta/Co-Captain of this Ship: WhosInTheAttic- you complete me. Any and all mistakes are my own.
Rating: PG, mostly angsty this time with a bit of kissing and a hint of lust.
Word Count: 7,675 (Parts 8.1 and 8.2 together)
Summary: While investigating a murder, Peter meets a woman whose life is an even bigger mystery.
Disclaimer: Donna and Peter both belong to others, except in my own twisted version of what should be. My Great and Glorious plan is to post at least once a week, and always on Friday. I apologize for not replying to comments last week, but I was busy organizing a Doctor Who fan group meeting at a local theatre and running around trying to get everything in place for that cut into my computer time. And it keeps saying the post is too large, hence 8.1 and 8.2...sorry!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8.1 | Part 8.2 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12
Continued from Part 8.1
Thursday, 26 April 2012, 5:30 PM
Donna had no sooner put down her bags and taken off her shoes when there was a knock at her door. Surprised, she turned, smiling at the unexpected profile she saw in the frosted panels that lined her doorframe. Her smile turned to a grin as she saw Peter's shadow surreptitiously cup his hand before his mouth in the universal signal for a breath-check.
She opened the door, put her hand on her hip and cocked her head to the side, trying to play it cool but failing spectacularly. "Detective Inspector Carlisle, what are you doing here? You come to reexamine my testimony?” she teased. “Not satisfied with the first round of questioning?"
“Not at all, Miss Noble, not at all,” Peter smiled, “I was more than pleased with the outcome of our recent interview,” he said, fighting to keep his playful smirk from becoming a leer. “No, this time, I come bearin’ news,” he said, rocking back on his heels. “Would you care to hear it?”
“Of course,” she said, stepping back to allow him to enter. “Come on in.”
“Thank you, but I was rather hopin’ that you would consent to accompany me to dinner this evenin’. I could tell you all about it then. Your choice, my treat?” he finished hopefully. He was on the verge of breaking into a grin and Donna realized she was about to do the same.
“That would be lovely, Peter. Just wait a mo while I grab my bag,” Donna called as she ducked back into her flat. They had spoken twice on the telephone since their day in the park together, but this was the first time their divergent schedules had meshed and allowed them to see each other. Donna had worked late on Monday, Peter had been required to fill in for an ill colleague on Tuesday and Donna had a standing dinner appointment with Nerys at the George on Wednesdays. Donna had begun to fear that Peter might be trying to avoid her and, for his part, Peter had begun to worry that Donna might have been put off by his reaction to her illness in the park. As a result, each was delighted to see their fears had been unfounded.
Fifteen minutes later, they were sitting at a table on the sidewalk outside the George IV, Peter chewing a bite of his sandwich and smiling at her as she speared a bit of her butternut squash and goat’s cheese pie. “So, the lab results are in from the blood forensics collected at the scene, thanks to you. It did belong to the victim. But the prints left behind in the blood are what’s important now. They did not belong to the victim, and so as soon as they’re identified, we have a suspect.”
Donna stopped with her fork halfway to her mouth, her pale features blanching even further. “So that man I saw stumblin’ out of the alley- he was the murderer you’re lookin’ for? Oh, Policeman, I’m so sorry I didn’t get a better look at him, I really am.”
“I’m not,” Peter told her earnestly. “Let his fingerprints convict him, not your testimony. That man he stabbed in cold-blood and left to die was unarmed and wouldn’t have harmed a fly, accordin’ to his mates‘ Missin’ Persons report. I’m glad your name isn’t involved with this business.” His smile returned as he added, “I am, however, glad that you were willin’ to talk to me when I came looking for information. Thank you,” he finished warmly.
Donna ducked her head and shyly smiled for a moment before looking back at his handsome face. She wanted to move closer and kiss him then, but she felt awkward trying to initiate so intimate a gesture in public. Instead, she fumbled about for a way to move the conversation forward. “So, then,” she asked, “what happens now?”
“Now, we wait,” he replied around a mouthful of sandwich. “The prints are runnin’ through the database and provided that the perpetrator has had a run in with the law anywhere in the UK, we should have a suspect soon. If not, we have something to go on at least. My partner announced this was somethin’ to celebrate, and I agreed, so here I am.” Peter sucked a bit of salt from his thumb and gave her an embarrassed smile when he caught her watching him.
Donna wondered how a man as astute as the Detective Inspector could seem to be totally clueless when it came to his affect upon her. She was going to be in trouble if every time the man ate - which seemed to be all the time, now that she thought of it- he made her want to pin him to the nearest wall and snog him for all he was worth. Dragging her mind up from the gutter and back to the topic at hand, Donna frowned for a moment. "Your partner- tallish, a bit dour, standard-issue haircut but beautiful green eyes?" she asked as she gestured at Peter with her forkful of pie.
He put the remains of his sandwich down and brushed his hands with his napkin. He considered her description for a moment and sat back, blinking. "Um, yeah? Not how I would have put it, but an apt description all the same," he admitted, watching her carefully as he pulled at his ear. Peter briefly wondered how she would describe him to someone else before leaning back against the table. He regarded Donna curiously and waited for her to continue.
"I saw you talkin’ to him across the street the other night. Actually noticed him first, as you had your back to me," she confessed. "You do know, DI Carlisle, that this," she waved her hands about, indicating both the George and herself, "is not what your partner..." Donna raised her eyebrows and looked at Peter.
"DS Keating," he supplied at her prompting.
"DS Keating," she repeated, continuing, "had in mind when he suggested a celebration..."
Peter frowned momentarily before admitting, "I suppose, but this is where I wanted to be." He wanted to reach back across the table and take Donna’s hand to emphasize his point, but she was still gesturing about with her fork and Peter wasn’t entirely sure she wouldn’t turn it on him as punishment for being socially thick.
"You're gonna have some explainin’ to do tomorrow, Copper. You don't just abandon your mates on account of a girl," Donna admonished, stabbing in his direction with that blasted fork. He was positive then that he’d made the right call.
"Weeellll, they're not what I'd call mates," Peter divulged, scratching his neck. "We're cordial at work, but I don't normally socialize outside of workin’ hours." He was expecting her to really have a go at him now, and so he was surprised when she did the complete opposite. When she quieted suddenly and laid down her fork, he almost sighed in relief.
“Policeman, what do you do? Outside of workin’ hours, I mean,” she said, leaning on her crossed arms on the table.
He shrugged nonchalantly. "Read, mostly. I run a bit. Go to the theatre. People watch," he said, realizing as he did how pathetic his life must sound.
"That's a lonely existence, Peter," Donna said quietly as she reached across the table to touch his hand. "You should make more of an effort at work. If nothing else, it helps with office relations. I know,” she offered, with a meaningful half-smile. “And you need to get out more, meet new people, make new friends."
He slowly turned his hand under hers, giving her ample opportunity to pull back if she felt she should, before loosely clasping her fingers. He watched her reaction as he began to caress the back of her hand with his thumb. “I thought I was doin’ just that right now,” he confessed. When she looked down and bit her lip shyly, he continued. “See, I've got my eye on a certain someone as we speak. She calls herself a Temp, but I'm seriously considerin’ askin’ her about the possibility of a more long-term, albeit still flexible, arrangement.” He let his words hang: he hadn't quite meant the double entendre that peeked tenuously from behind his statement, but it was too late now.
“But only if that’s what she wants,” he finished quietly. Her hand tightened on his and he grinned sheepishly before looking up to find her beaming right back. She didn't speak right away, but at that moment, her smile was response enough for him.
“She’d be a fool not to consider so generous an offer,” Donna commented, watching Peter’s smile grow wider, “but I wouldn’t wait too long to make a move, if I were you.‘ She was grinning back at him across the table and she was terribly afraid that her expression was just as goofy as his, but she didn't care. She quirked her smile to the side as she inched the fingers of her free hand towards his chips. She didn't really want one, actually, but thinking back to their first date, she just wanted to see what he'd do if she nicked one.
He saw her hand moving for his chips and raised an eyebrow. She seemed to pause, for a second, observing his reaction. He considered reaching out and trapping her free hand so he could hold it, too, but if she really wanted a chip, he didn't want to be stingy.
Donna's smile grew even more when she saw the uncertainty in Peter’s eyes. He'd noticed her unsubtle approach but he didn’t yet know she was playing a game with him, so she decided to give him a clue. She abandoned her stealthy approach and brazenly swiped a chip from his plate. She had watched him eat and knew that he liked his in vinegar as much as she did, so she dipped her stolen prize into a small pool at the side of his plate before leaning over and feeding it to him.
He almost laughed as he plucked the offering from her fingers with his teeth and then captured her hand in his, smiling around the chip as he chewed. “So. Enough of me and of work. Tell me more about you. Whatever you want.” He kissed her palm before bringing their joined hands to the tabletop.
Donna’s smile grew a trifle wistful and she blinked slowly as she leaned away. So here's when happiness starts to unravel, she thought sadly. “I dunno,” she said, stalling for time. “Nothin’ excitin’ about me to tell, I guess. You talked to Lewis, so you know just about everythin’ already.” She glanced back at him again, then away before he could read the resignation in her eyes.
Peter saw her apprehension and sensed that she was holding back, though he had no idea why. “You're evasive,” he said. When Donna failed to react, he tried a different approach. “You have no need to put on the “Woman with a Mysterious Secret’ persona to interest me, ya know,” he smirked, trying to make her laugh. “I’m already interested.” Instead of laughing, a sad look crossed her face before she looked away to avoid meeting his eyes. Peter hesitated before he resolved to tell her his own dark past instead. “Why don't I tell you a bit more about myself then, eh?”
Donna brightened visibly when he offered to talk about himself. “Yes, I don't know anythin’ about you, other than your job, where you live and where you came from.” She hesitated, embarrassed by her obvious enthusiasm for changing the subject to focus on him. “How'd you end up here?” she finally ventured.
It was the one question he hoped she wouldn't ask, but of course, she did. He couldn't back out now, and after all, better that he was honest with her now rather than later, so he took a deep breath before answering. "I didnae come to London by choice,” he started reluctantly. “A few years back, when I was still livin' and workin' in Kendal, I got sent down to Blackpool for a murder case,” he began, staring down at their linked hands. “Well, suspicious death,” he shrugged.
Donna leaned forward in her chair, chewing her free thumb thoughtfully. "Comes with the territory, I imagine."
He pursed his lips thoughtfully and nodded, looking up at her now. “So my partner--Blythe, his name was--Blythe and I were investigatin' and got onto our suspect, an arcade owner. I went to speak to his wife, as part of the investigation...” He trailed off a moment to gather his courage. “..and...we became ...involved.” He looked away, reluctant to see the disappointment and disgust he felt for himself mirrored in her face.
Donna nudged his hand as he hesitated. “Involved? As in...?” He gave her a pointed look full of self-loathing and Donna’s heart stuttered in sympathy at the broken expression on his face.
After a long uncomfortable pause, he continued. “And her husband, also our chief suspect, was a real tosser. Lockin’ him up became somethin’ of a vendetta. It was even worse, after she'd blown me out.” Donna looked down at their joined hands on the table and then back at his eyes. She hadn’t pulled back yet, but he knew it was coming. “I put pressure on a few people....people I shouldn't have,” he finished quietly. He stopped then, unable to bear telling her that he'd urged them to lie. He looked up and shrugged, muttering, “I told you I’d been a bastard.”
Donna bit her lip and looked at him across the table. “What happened then? Was he guilty?” Her words were soft and measured and Peter took courage from the fact that she hadn’t jumped up from the table and stalked away yet.
“I don't know. I certainly hope not, considerin’ what happened next” he revealed reluctantly, running his tongue across his front teeth. He inhaled deeply and rubbed his nose before continuing. ”So this man, he found out about the affair, and put me under his thumb. Said he'd step aside, let his wife go if I looked the other way. He and his son were the prime suspects, and he wanted both of them left alone. And if I didn't...he'd tell my superiors everythin’, and he'd walk anyway.” He glanced up at her before bowing his head and scratching at his neck, dreading what she might say next.
Donna sat up straighter in her chair, her eyes widening, and regarded him thoughtfully. “What did you do?”
“What could I do?” he said, sitting back with a sigh and stretching his legs out under the table. “I let them go. Both of them. And his wife left him, and came back to Kendal with me. Blythe was furious. He said he'd report me. Said he'd go over my head and take the case to the DSI.” Donna gasped involuntarily and leaned back slightly in her chair, but didn't let go of his hand.
Peter found he couldn't look her in the eye, not for this part, but there was no turning back now. “He eventually decided against that, but still, word got around. After that, I became the scum on the shoes of everyone in the department. No one wanted to take real action, but no one wanted to be around me, either.” He looked up in the air before continuing. “Then Natalie left me. Said she wanted to be on her own, be her own woman. That I gave her the strength to try.” He grimaced at the memory and Donna waited for the shadow of his past to fade. “Shortly after that, my DCI told me in no uncertain terms that I was leavin’ North Lakes. He didn't care where I went, and he'd write me a recommendation; he just wanted me gone. Now here I am.” He reluctantly looked up at her then, not wanting to see her reaction.
Donna sat quietly for a long moment while Peter held his breath. She searched his face before slowly asking, “And why are you telling me this, Peter?”
“Because I do nae want to hide anythin’ from you, Donna. I want it out, in the open, now,” he admitted. “I do nae want you findin’ out about this later, hearing malicious gossip or somethin’ and thinkin’ I....” He clenched his jaw suddenly and looked away before continuing. “I do nae want it to be an issue between us later on. And I do nae want you to think that I get involved with every woman I meet in the course of my duties.”
Donna nodded and leaned back in again, close enough to reach across the table and touch his cheek. “Peter, I'm so sorry. You must have really loved Natalie to risk everythin’ that way.”
He shied away from her touch, slightly, feeling undeserving of her compassion. “Yeah. I did. Threw away the one thing I held dearest: my integrity. I do nae think I can ever forgive myself. I'm an Inspector, I have to hold myself to a higher standard and I...”
“Peter, one mistake doesn't destroy all that you are,” Donna broke in. “You're human, you learn, you grow and you go on from there.”
He glanced up at her and his voice dropped. “I nearly set up an innocent man, or I let a guilty one walk free...either way...I'm no prize, Donna,” he said flatly. He had to make her understand.
“Nearly...you didn't do it.” Donna's voice stayed quiet, but took on an air of authority. “And anyone with eyes to see knows you feel terrible about it. Stop that,” she replied firmly. “You-made-a-mistake. That's-all. Love can be the worst sort of madness.”
He squeezed her hand, and raised his gaze again to her. He smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You're somethin' special, Donna Noble,” he whispered as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
She shook her head and batted gently at his shoulder, scoffing at his remark. “I'm not. But I do know special when I see it, and if Natalie couldn't see that she'd hit the jackpot with you, well, that poor girl needs to have her head examined,” she finished a trifle indignantly. “Besides, who am I to judge anyone? The way my family acts around me whenever I say or do anythin’ at all or - heaven help me - have one of my spells, I’m startin’ to think maybe I'm guilty of murder myself,” she sighed, leaning back in her chair and hugging herself despondently.
Peter blinked, confused and not following her train of thought and abrupt change of topic.
“I’m sorry- poorly worded,” she admitted. “The ambulance service always calls with a follow-up, askin’ about their service and all. When they couldn’t get through to me to ask about Sunday, they called my mum. She called me on my mobile immediately and we had a row over it. Somehow, it’s all my fault again.” She sighed heavily and gave him a lopsided smile. “What I mean is, since I can't find any record of an accident or anythin’, the only thing I can figure is I did somethin’ durin’ my missin’ time they don't want me to know about.” Donna stared into the distance, rubbing the ring finger of her left hand with the thumb and forefinger of her other hand for a few seconds. Then as quickly as she had drifted away, she was back with him again, shrugging her shoulders and offering a rueful smile.
Peter reached back across the table and took her hand back, looking her straight in the eyes. “Yes, you ARE special. To me,” he told her seriously. “And I want to help you find out what happened, if that's what you still want. I couldnae find any accidents reports in the records, but maybe I could talk to your family? Flash the badge and all that?” He opened his mouth slightly, the tip of his tongue touching his upper teeth as he waggled his eyebrows at her, trying to make her smile again.
She dipped her head with a soft snort of laughter, then looked up at him sadly. This wasn't supposed to have been about her. She had just wanted to do anything to distract him and stop him looking so unhappy. Her smile crept across her lips despite herself: Peter had his ‘Detective Look’ on now, eager to solve her mystery and make her happy. She marveled at the change in him: it was as if in trying to help her, he was able to heal himself as well. She considered for a moment before answering his offer.
“Peter, I really am afraid,” she confided. "What if I hurt someone? I know I must have done somethin’, but what could be so bad that I'm blockin’ it out? That's the only explanation I can come up with that makes sense.” She gestured desperately with her free hand, biting her lip and wondering aloud, “What if I'm a criminal?” She looked at him for a split second before they simultaneously burst out in giggles as the absurdity of worrying about that to a DI occurred to them both at the same time.
As his laughing attack passed, Peter wanted to take her in his arms and tell her that she was all right and that everything would be fine, but he knew she’d just scoff at his assurances. He thought that if he could find out what happened, to prove to her that there was nothing wrong with her, that she wasn’t damaged, then maybe she would accept it when he said she was special and important, to him.
“Oh, Donna,” he sighed, cupping her cheek again. “I do nae think it's that at all. You have a good heart,” he continued after casting a playful glance at her cleavage, “and I do nae think you would bring harm to anyone, unless you count exhaustion.” He finished with a wink as her eyes widened in surprise.
“Cheeky git! Don't think I didn't notice you checkin’ out my goods just now! Didn't you get enough of that this last weekend?” she said in mock outrage as she punched him lightly on the shoulder. “But thank you,” she concluded quietly.
He gave her a wounded look, feigning injury and rubbing his assaulted shoulder. “I cannae help it that you are beau'iful. Or that your top is cut incredibly low.” He leaned forward conspiratorially, “or that your breasts are amazin’.” He smiled again, touching his tongue to his teeth, before pulling in his lower lip and worrying it between his teeth. He wanted to tell her so much more, but this wasn’t the time or the place.
“Peter,” Donna began cautiously, “I trust you - I do - but I have to warn you. My mum is a bit....intimidatin’. She's kind of a dragon, if I'm forced to admit it. I don't want you walkin’ into anythin’ unprepared.” She briefly considered talking him out of his plan, but she didn’t think she’d be successful and anyway, he might be able to discover something she hadn’t. “Please be careful.”
“Well...,” he replied, “I've dealt with some pretty tough customers in my day. I think I can slay a dragon...so to speak. Figuratively.” He floundered for a moment at the accidental implication. “I mean... “ he mumbled, tugging again at his ear uncomfortably.
To his chagrin, Donna didn’t let this one pass without comment. “So, you'd slay a dragon for me?” she asked mischievously. She reached across the table again and twined her fingers affectionately with his. “That make you my knight in shining armor?” she whispered, eyes dancing with amusement.
And just like that, there she was again, the woman he’d bantered with the first night at the George- intelligent, playful, confident and utterly amazing. He wanted more than anything to do whatever it took to let Donna feel free to be that woman all the time. “I'd be anythin’ you want me to be, Donna,” he admitted.
She inhaled sharply and covered her mouth, stunned by the sincerity of his words before she relaxed again. “Peter, I want you to be happy,” she said breathlessly. “That's all I want. Just be happy.”
“With you in my life, I think that's just possible,” he declared and Donna felt her eyes begin to prickle with unshed tears. Her insides fluttered at his words and she both cursed and was grateful that they were in such a public place.
“Oh, Peter, I hope that's always true,” she breathed. Donna knew it was too soon, that she'd only known this man for the space of a week, but it was already far too late. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that she'd take his hand and follow him anywhere he wanted to take her. She'd go with him to the ends of the Universe and never, ever look back. It was odd, but there was something about him that made her trust him where she’d never trusted anyone else. In his presence, she just felt like she had come home.
Peter felt something shift in the air between them, and he wanted to run toward it and away from it in the same moment, this teetering uncertainly on the edge of something big. He was terrified and captivated in the same moment and wondered if Donna could sense it as well. She was studying his face, looking at him like he was unfathomable. It was a look that made him want to be a better man, just to live up to that look. To deserve that look. He knew he was denying it to himself now, but the truth was there beneath it all; he was falling in love with Donna Noble. And even as he acknowledged the truth of it, he realized that it was far too soon to let her know.
**********
“Well, here we are,” Donna said, smiling nervously as she stood on the landing and opened the door to her flat. She turned back to look over her shoulder at the man she knew she was falling for and bit her lip, praying that she was making the right decision for once in her life. Hesitantly, but with growing conviction, she turned fully to him and kissed his cheek. She gently laid her hand where here lips had just been and looked at him, determined to say what she needed to now and not regret it later. "Peter, I...this has been so, so lovely. Everythin’. I mean it. And I want it to continue. I like you and I want to keep seein’ you, but..." She looked down at her feet, trying to muster the courage to go on.
Peter’s smile faltered for a moment, not knowing what she would say next. He fought to keep his apprehension hidden and his grasp on her hips light. He only hoped that when she finished speaking, he had both the strength and presence of mind to respond appropriately.
Donna glanced back up and the look on his face was nearly her undoing. His features had frozen slightly and she knew her hesitation was causing him distress. She took a deep breath, then plunged back in. "The truth is, we’re movin’ so fast and I’m afraid. I’m afraid we’re goin’ to wake up some day and find that we don’t really know each other at all. And I want to know you. I want to know everythin’ about you."
Relieved, Peter stepped closer in her embrace and her fingers tangled reflexively in his hair. "I want to know how you take your tea and what your favorite biscuit is. Do you sing in the shower and if you do, what’s your favorite song? Do you get misty over sappy movies, or worse, commercials, on the telly ? I bet not on that last one, but I do sometimes," she admitted.
"In short, Peter, I want this to last. I want to get to know you- the real you- and not just have our relationship be about ... you know..." She faltered waving airily with one hand while looking slightly abashed.
"What?" Peter said, wide-eyed and wickedly innocent.
"You know, Detective Inspector Carlisle....." she said pointedly.
"What?" he repeated, grinning openly now.
"Sex," she answered brazenly as she realized he knew exactly what she meant and was simply trying to get her to admit it.
Peter kissed her once, chastely, by way of apology before letting the grin creep back across his face and into his voice. "Are you referring to the mind-blowingly spectacular activity we indulged in last weekend as mere sex?" he asked, incredulous. When her answering flush of color threatened to have her glowing in the dark, he gently teased, "Why, Donna Noble, your fair complexion has taken on an especially rosy hue...are you blushin’?"
"I’m serious, Policeman..." she said quietly.
"As am I, Ms. Noble," he answered, lifting her trembling chin with a finger and delivering a single, devastating kiss. He rested his forehead against hers as he gently clasped her about the waist. "And if you want to wait, that’s fine with me. Donna, I've already told you, I want to know everythin’ about you as well."
He pulled back and looked at her sincerely before asking, "Donna, would you go on a date with me this weekend? A proper one this time? Where the food isn’t somethin’ that might have come wrapped in newsprint?" When she smiled and nodded her agreement, he slowly, gently brought his face down to hers and kissed her again, lips barely brushing at first as the kiss built in intensity. She leaned gratefully into him, lost in his embrace, reaching up to caress his cheek and breathing in the scent of him. When he broke away, she looked up at him and smiled.
“I would go anywhere with you,” she told him before adding, “It doesn't have to be anythin’ fancy, though.” She dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, he really did like her as much as she liked him? Maybe this time, she could prove her mother wrong and be happy for once?
“Alright, then, nothin' too ritzy, but tablecloths is nae too much to ask, eh?” he chuckled. She smiled wider, seeing something promising in his eyes and in the warmth of his smile.
“Oooh, Copper, how about real flatware, no plastic utensils? That work for you?” she teased, tracing his lips with her fingertip.
“Aye. And wine,” he added as he turned his head to kiss her fingers. He briefly pulled the pad of her index finger into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before releasing it with a pop.
Donna giggled and added, “With glasses? Oh, you know how to spoil a girl, don't you, Detective Inspector.” She looked up at him, suddenly solemn. “Peter, thank you. This last weekend with you, and now tonight.., I mean, you're so...everything’s been perfect,” she finished awkwardly. She wanted to tell him so much more, but she was terrified that she’d end up driving him off.
He chuckled, and gently moved her hair back from her forehead so that he could press a kiss to her hairline. “You deserve the very best.”
“Pffftt *she scoffed, rolling her eyes. It was a habit, but she instantly regretted it. He really meant it, she realized, and she didn’t want him to misunderstand. “I'm sorry. I'm not comfortable with people bein’...complementary... with me. I know I come off as loud and, well, rude, quite often. I don't want that with you.” She leaned in close, her arms around his neck, and whispered in his ear, “You are the nicest thing to happen to me in a very long time, Peter.”
“Are you implyin’ that I don't know a fantastic lover when I have one, Miss Noble?” he asked, grinning at her. He paused for a moment before adding, “And you're the nicest for me, as well Donna. Really.” He became serious, whispering, “I mean it.” He knew bad memories were showing on his face again and he tried to shake them off. He’d looked to his past for guidance and told her everything instead of trying to cover it up. He’d just revealed the worst of himself to her and she hadn’t run away. Instead, she looked beyond the blot on his past and found the good in him with which he’d lost touch. If they went no further in this, if everything ended right at that very moment, he at least had that from her and would forever be grateful.
Donna pulled back from him to search his face. Surely he was joking? Did he just call her his lover? She couldn’t breathe properly and when he grew serious, she was stunned. There was still something haunted in his expression, but he tried to hide it. He failed miserably, not from any fault of his own, but because she was so practiced at the art of deception herself.
“Oh. Oh, Peter,” she murmured as she leaned in to kiss away the distress she saw in his eyes and she couldn’t help herself. She fell deeper into the kiss, feeling her self control slip away as she twined her fingers in his hair again and pulled him closer to her. She had thought she was the only one who needed comfort, until she looked into his eyes. He shivered slightly and fell into the kiss, opening his mouth to hers, slipping his tongue out to trace the seam of her lips, asking entrance, wanting her closer. As he plunged into her mouth, he chased away memories of Blackpool and failed expectations, of himself and of others. He still felt guilty for not telling her everything outright, about how serious he’d been about Natalie, but he just wanted things to stay the way they were for just that bit longer.
“Mmm,” he hummed against her lips as her tongue found its’ way into his mouth. One hand tangled in her hair as the other pressed her closer to him. He was finding it increasingly difficult to control himself and stay true to his word. He knew that if they didn’t stop now, he’d sweep her into his arms and make love to her on the nearest horizontal surface he could find. “Donna,” he ground out, “when?”
She pulled back to look at him, confused. “What? When what?” she asked, dazed and disheveled. He was pleased to see that he could put her at a loss for words with a single kiss, as she had done the same to him.
“When can I see you again? Tomorrow night? Is that too soon?” he asked cradling her face in his hands. She bit her lip and nodded, thinking that tomorrow night wasn’t soon enough but he was honoring her wishes. She had dictated the parameters for their courtship and he was willing to abide by them, even as she seriously considered throwing them out the window.
“Tomorrow is fine. Tomorrow is brilliant,” she said breathlessly. “What time? Where do you want to....OH!” she exclaimed, remembering the day. “Oh....no. No, tomorrow is good,” she decided as Peter gave her a questioning look. “It’s just that I always meet Nerys at the George on Friday evenings, but I’ll call and cancel. It’s all right.”
“We could make it Saturday, instead,” he offered reluctantly. “I don’t want to intrude on a standin’ engagement. Or we could meet her there, if you like,” he suggested and nearly laughed at the look of horror that passed over her face.
“No, no, that’s quite all right, really. Nerys will understand,” Donna lied. The last thing on Earth she wanted was to expose Peter to Nerys. Oh, Peter is Peter, and Nerys is Nerys, and never the twain shall meet, she thought ruefully, not if she had her way about it. To her relief, he nodded and looked thoughtful.
“Anywhere you’d like to go?” he asked her.
Donna smiled and repeated, “Thank you, but I was rather hopin’ that you would consent to accompany me to dinner tomorrow evenin’. Your choice, my treat?”
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8.1 | Part 8.2 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12