An Officer and the Noble Woman, Part 20.1 (20 of 35)
Title: An Officer and the Noble Woman, Part 20.1
Author: dtstrainers
Paring: Donna Noble/Peter Carlisle
Co-Captain of this Ship: WhosInTheAttic- As always, eternal thanks.
Rating: Mature content, written by a decidedly immature fangirl
Word Count: 6,323
Summary: Donna exacts a bit of revenge for a comment Peter made. Peter doesn't seem to mind
NOTE: I'm very sorry for not meeting my personal deadline this week, but unfortunately, real life is starting to monopolize my free time. As a result, I'm going to have to modify my publication schedule. I will continue to make regular updates, but the way it's looking, on a biweekly basis. I'm going to still try and shoot for a weekly Friday night/early Saturday morning posting, but as other things intrude, I can only promise to do my best. And yet again, I am too verbose for one post, so you get Part 20.1 and 20.2.Disclaimer: Donna and Peter- oh, fudge- just about EVERYONE in this novelisation of my OTP belong to others, except in my own twisted version of what should be. I'm just writing it down to get it out of my system. Honest.
Part 1 | Part 5 | Part 10 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18.1 | Part 18.2 | Part 19 | Part 20.1 | Part 20.2
Wednesday, 6 June 2012, 2:30 PM
“Everything OK, DI?”
Slightly rattled, Peter looked up from his computer to see the curious face of his partner, DS Keating at the door. “Yeah, fine. Why?” said Peter petulantly, tapping at the table with a pencil.
“Well, one: it’s way past lunchtime and yet you still sit there and two: you didn’t even hear me come in just now. Neither is like you, so what’s up?” Ian asked, leaning against the doorframe and scratching his head.
Rubbing his face with both hands and sighing heavily, Peter bought himself a few seconds to collect his thoughts before answering.
“Donna took the day off to go with her mum to the doctor’s office, so I skipped lunch,” he began, answering one question while still considering how to respond to the second. He was frustrated with the results of his search and angry with himself for not being able to find out more about Donna during her missing time. That, taken with the so-far abysmal results of the Morgan investigation in the wake of the news broadcast, and the result was one royally pissed-off Detective Inspector. What he needed was a confidant, a sounding board, someone who would let him ramble until he could see what he was missing, but he wondered how much he dared to share with Ian. He cocked his head to the side and with a tiny, wry smile, his answer came clear. At some point, he had begun to think of his partner as Ian instead of DS Keating. It was all the sign he needed.
“And I’m gettin’ nowhere fast in my personal investigation,” he admitted, dragging his hands through his hair. Ian stood in the doorway and waited for Peter to continue. “Donna was in some sort of accident awhile back and cannae account for some missing time in her past,” he explained. He stood abruptly and began pacing in his office as Ian quietly closed the door and took a seat. “I offered to do a bit of diggin’ around for her, but I cannae find anything; no one single record of Donna anywhere from June of 2007 to September of 2009. With all the formidable resources of the Metropolitan Police Force available to me, and I turn up no one bloody reference. Nothin’ at all. I found a few blurry photos that may or may no be her from old CCTV footage in some unsolved case files, but that’s it. It’s as if she simply vanished off the face of the earth,” he grumbled, stopping and leaning back on his desk, “and who can do that nowadays?”
“Vanish from the face of the earth? What, like there’s nothing in the public records?” Ian asked incredulously. “Tax records? Driving license? Mobile records?”
Peter shook his head as Ian ticked off the usual sources one by one. “No one bloody mention, no trace a’tall,” he sniffed. “I checked hospital records, travel records, passports, credit cards, you name it. No one bloody thing to indicate that she was even on the damned planet. I donae know where to go from here, and it’s drivin’ me spare.”
“Maybe under a different name?” Ian countered and Peter waved the suggestion away.
“No, she was only ever Donna Noble at the time,” he responded as he threw himself back into his chair.
“The way you describe it, it sounds like something out of a spy novel,” Ian muttered and Peter’s head jerked up.
“Sorry?”
“I was just thinking this sounds like a situation from a spy novel,” he repeated. “You know, the person was working for a secrete organization or some other such nonsense and their identity was erased. Granted, it makes for good cinema, but it’s not as if that happens in real life, though,” he said with a dismissive shrug.
“But what if the reason I cannae find public record of Donna is that she wasn’t a part of the general public?” Peter said, warming to the idea. “What if she was workin’ for some organization that required secrecy?”
“Wait- what are you suggesting? That Donna worked for MI6?” Ian paused, amused at the possibility before he shook his head and returned to reality. “What is it she does, DI?”
“She’s currently workin’ across the way at Cheltenham & Gloucester,” Peter responded carefully.
“As what? An analyst? An advisor?” Ian countered.
“She’s part of the clerical staff,” he replied evenly. When Ian frowned, Peter continued. “What? I’m not sayin’ she was a spy or some secret agent, but donae covert agencies need support staff? Maybe, for reasons of security, she had to assume a false identity at the time? It might explain her disappearance is all I’m sayin’.”
Ian paused and reconsidered the information for a moment, wondering just how far his partner was prepared to go in pursuit of the truth and what exactly he himself was willing to do to assist him. “I suppose it’s possible, DI, but not probable,” he drawled, shaking his head.
“But not impossible! Especially if you’ve ever met her,” Peter asserted. He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Besides, I’ve exhausted every other avenue I can think of,” he muttered, “and when you have eliminated the impossible..,”
“Whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth,” Ian finished. When Peter favored him with an appreciative grin, Ian groused, “Finally, a sodding reference I recognize.”
**********
Wednesday, 6 June 2012, 7:00 PM
The evening had started innocently enough, with the both of them eating a fish dinner at the Bulls Head out back near the water, each taking turns at stealing chips from the other’s plate. Whereas the George offered warmth and camaraderie, the charm of the Bulls Head was the relative anonymity and quiet. Donna was sure that they were recognized, but beyond a polite nod, no one acknowledged their presence. She smiled at the dichotomy between their chosen haunts and was thankful that Peter was willing to forgo his privacy most nights in order to be with her.
Peter sensed her thoughts were turning inward so he reached over and plainly stalked her chips, teasing her to draw her attention back to him. When she smacked his hand, he laughed aloud and Donna smirked at him before relenting and pushing her plate across to him. “So tell me, how was your day with your mum?” he asked, munching on his reward.
“Oh, please,” Donna groaned. “Can’t we just talk about somethin’ else? I already had to live through one interrogation today. I don’t think I can handle another.” She threw her hair over her shoulder angrily before looking in Peter’s eyes. He waited for her mood to pass and she exhaled heavily before leaning on the table and resting her chin in her hand. “Sorry, Copper, it’s not you. It’s her.”
Peter smiled and reached for her hand, rubbing the back with his thumb. “What was her complaint? If it’s any of my business, that is.”
“What doesn’t she complain about? I don’t have a ‘real job’,” Donna raged, making air quotes, “I’m not settled down, I spend my money foolishly, I don’t come ‘round for tea, all her friends have grandkids, and what am I doin’ to remedy that situation...” she finished weakly, realizing too late that she’d strayed into uncharted territories.
“Perhaps it’s time to remedy some of that, eh?” Peter began and when Donna sat up straight, her eyes growing wide, he clarified, “The tea part, anyway.” Donna visibly relaxed and Peter continued. “Do you think she’d consent to dinner with the likes of me? In some public place, mind,” he hastily amended. “It’d be my treat.”
“Oh, bloody hell, Copper! You, puttin’ up with my Mum? I’ll pay you!” Donna declared vehemently. “Are you sure you want to subject yourself to that special brand of torture?” She clutched his hand and added, “You really, really don’t have to. I don’t expect you to.”
“Weeellll,” Peter said, rubbing at the back of his neck for a moment, “I’ve already survived the first encounter. The next time cannae be any worse, especially if you’re there. She’s gonna have to get used to me eventually. Might as well be now,” he finished with a shrug.
Donna felt the tears start to well up and she bit her lip and looked down to regain her equilibrium, clutching his hand gratefully in both of hers. He was planning on being in her life long enough that her mum would have to accept it. She scooted forward in her chair to reach across the table and touch his face and their knees bumped. Peter grinned suddenly and shifted, letting their feet twine under the table and before she really knew it, Donna slipped her shoe from her foot and started stroking the inside of Peter’s calf.
Peter’s eyes darkened and he leaned across the table to whisper to her, “We’d better take this out of here soon. But at least we’re displayin’ admirable restraint in public this time...” He closed his eyes to kiss her, and was unprepared when, without warning, Donna slapped his shoulder soundly. Several heads turned their way and Donna shrunk back across the table.
“And that’s for the remark you made the other night at the George!” Donna hissed indignantly, glaring at one woman over Peter’s shoulder until she turned her attention back to her companion. “I thought I was gonna crawl under the table an’ die.”
“No one knew what I meant but ye,” he teased, wincing just a bit as he rubbed his battered arm.
“As if that made it all right!” Donna snorted. “I swear, I’ve never been so embarrassed in my entire life.”
“Are ye expectin’ an apology for that? I certainly hope no, as it’s no gonna happen, missy,” Peter challenged and she stood her ground, rising and reaching for his hand. He eyed her warily for a moment before taking her hand in his.
“We’ll just see about that, shall we?” Donna countered as she led him to the door, smiling at the thought of the last daring purchase she’d made on a recent shopping trip and glad that she’d had the courage to slip it into the bottom of her shoulder bag that morning.
**********
Part 1 | Part 5 | Part 10 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18.1 | Part 18.2 | Part 19 | Part 20.1 | Part 20.2