Fic: To Err is Human (3/?)

Jul 04, 2011 00:59


Author: Lilac Summers
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG (R in later parts), sexual innuendo, language
Category: Humor, angst/drama
Characters: Donna/John Smith/Doctor

A/N:  more caps and rather a lot of italics (I luvs them!) Slightly dirtier language (Donna's struggling here.) Alas, less smoochies in this chapter.

Part 1 here
Part 2 here
 
Part 3:

The morning hadn't been as devastatingly awkward as she had anticipated, mainly because she'd hauled ass out of the bed as soon as the Doctor had stirred and loosened his hold on her. He had barely had time to protest as she escaped, reminding him he'd better get ready for class and that she'd cook up some breakfast. She had never been so happy to be responsible for putting breakfast together!

She fried a couple of eggs (because frying and egg was frying an egg, regardless of time period) and was sliding breakfast onto a plate when he stepped out, dressed in the most ridiculous outfit ever. She practically dumped the egg on the floor in surprise before righting the pan. She abruptly had to turn around to avoid pointing and laughing.

"Good morning, dear. Join me at the table?" he sang out cheerfully.

She steeled herself, turned around, and then immediately had to look away again. Oh god, she was going to pee herself, he looked so ridiculous.

She sat at the table and focused solely on her eggs.

"So, what do you think?" he asked, obviously referring to his ensemble.

With no other choice, she glanced up and immediately turned her giggles into an unconvincing cough. "Very...professional." *snort*cough*snort*. Good god, his cap had a tassel!

He preened at her words, then quickly finished off his eggs, gave her a hurried peck on the forehead and grabbed his books. His robes fluttered behind him. Robes! Honest to god robes!

"I am running rather late; sorry to rush off on you. Will you amuse yourself during the day?" he called, as he made for the door.

"Oh, yeah, don't worry a bit. You just got out there and instruct those little minds," she managed, waving as he cast one last smile her way and closed the door behind him. "At Hogwarts," she added after he was gone, and then dissolved into laughter.

She gathered up the plates, still giggling, and was getting ready to tidy up when she froze. What was she doing?! Standing here giggling like an idiot and getting ready to clean up as if she were really playing “Little House on the Prairie”? She had to move. NOW!

She dumped the plates back on the counter unceremoniously and dashed back to her room, dressing as quickly as the unfamiliar clothing allowed. Then she was rushing out the door, only slowing when she reached the ground floor to sedately walk out the doors. Some paranoid part of her kept expecting the headmaster or the Doctor or Nurse Redfern to burst out of a room and scream "Stop her!" (and then Storm Troopers would pour out, for some reason) but of course no one did. She was just the new teacher's wife, going out for a stroll.

It was a thirty minute walk to the old barn on the edge of town where they'd left the TARDIS. Donna made it in 20, half running when people weren't about, and briskly speedwalking when they were. But finally she was safe inside the old, musty building and digging down the front of her shirt for the chain that held her most precious possessions: the TARDIS key and the watch that would release the Doctor.

The blue doors opened with a soft snick and Donna bolted inside. It had only been 24 hours - possibly less - since she'd stepped out of the TARDIS and yet she felt like she was coming home after years away. She paused at the ramp and took a deep, cleansing breath.

The TARDIS, quieter than usual since running on emergency energy, still hummed a greeting at her.

“I'm not well pleased with you - I'm not talking to you!” warned Donna, and the hum quieted to a dull murmur.

Donna flung off her coat and stepped up to the console screen, jabbing at buttons until the video the Doctor had promised came onscreen. Alright, now maybe she'd get some answers as to why they were in this stupid predicament and how she could fix it.

As static cleared and the Doctor's face resolved on screen, Donna wouldn't have admitted, on threat of death, how her stress drained away suddenly. God, she actually missed him like this. He would know what to do; he'd tell her how to make everything alright.

“Donna, here's a list of instructions for when I'm human. One, don't let me hurt anyone....”

Relieved, Donna sat back to watch the video.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fifteen minutes later, all the tension on Donna's shoulders had returned and brought along friends. She was back at the console, shouting obscenities and fiddling with the dials as she replayed the video for the third time.

"C'mon you stupid stupid thing," she muttered, pressing the fast forward button on the console. At the low sound of indignation from the TARDIS she relented and patted the console softly, "No, not you - not this time. The video. The video is stupid and the moronic alien who filmed it is stupid. Very very very very stupid!"

“Five. Don't let me eat pears...”

IDIOT! She twirled the dial, hoping that through the magic of wishful thinking she would find the instructions that actually helped, instead of the list of hogwash he had just recited to her.

She let go of the dial randomly and the Doctor's face stilled once more on the screen. "This is extremely important, Donna. History altering important, so pay attention to the next one: rule 17. DO NOT let me invent jelly babies. Wherever I am, odds are that I'm going to start craving them...and then I'll invent them because I'm, y'know, a genius. And we can't have that! I mean, it would be fine if I kept the ones I created to myself, but the best thing about Jelly Babies is to share them, and I can't imagine that I wouldn't start handing them out once I invented them--"

Donna's finger determinedly returned to the fast forward.

"21. You are not allowed to take incriminating photos of me, no matter what time period we land in and what I am forced to wear. I know you, and I --"

"AAARGGH! You stupid, thoughtless man! What the hell am I supposed to do if you want to SHAG ME. Ever thought of that?!"

“And 23. If anything goes wrong, if they find us Donna, then you know what to do. Open the watch. Everything I am is kept safe in there. Don't open it unless you have to cuz when it's open then the Family will be able to find me. It's all down to you, Donna. Your choice. Oh...and..thank you.”

Donna pounded the off button in fury with one last, “Well, THANKS FOR NOTHING to you, JACKASS!” shouted as farewell to the Doctor's face.

She stomped around the room, making as much noise as she could as her boots hit the grating, pulling at her hair in frustration -- altogether having herself a nice little tantrum.  Finally, worn out, she slumped on the jump seat and stared dully at the control column.

"I'm so fucked."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She ended up taking a long, steaming bath back in her room on the TARDIS. The time in a proper tub helped ease her muscles. Then she slathered on the expensive lotion made with the sea kelp from the famed kelp beds of some planet where they'd scuba dived. Immersing herself in the luxuries of the future helped take her mind off the wretched, confusing role she was being made to play. Yeah, she was a little concerned at leaving the Doctor in town by himself for the while, but if she didn't try to calm herself she'd end up killing someone (him) and then all of this would be for naught.

Finally she stood in front of her full length mirror, petticoat,chemise and corset in place, sliding the heavy skirt over her head. Then there were the itty-bitty buttons on the ruffly white shirt that went tucked into the skirt. By the time she had dried her hair, she was calmer. The final and most important piece of her ensemble went over her head to drop beneath the high neck of her shirt, the chain with the TARDIS key and the pocket watch. By the time she was done, she knew exactly what her next step would be.

Completely composed for the first time in 48 hours, she began her determined trek back to the console room. The TARDIS gave one long low hum of inquiry upon sensing her mood.

"Oh, you know perfectly well what I'm going to do."

Another long, slightly more concerned hum.

"Well you should have thought of that before you made him believe he fancied me. What were you thinking?!"

An affronted hum of denial, which Donna ignored completely. She reached the doors and pulled on them angrily, but they stuck firm.

"Oh, so mature! You let me out right now! I TOLD him this was a stupid idea. He'll just have to figure out another way to avoid those things for three months."

Low groans, which she took to be argument.

"Well of course you're on his side. You're his flippin' ship! Never mind all those times I told him to stop whacking you with the mallet, huh? All those evenings of me faithfully making sure he picks up after himself to give you a break, all forgotten now! Well guess what, you big BOX, I never signed on to play loving wife to an amnesiac Time Lord!"

She stomped her foot rather impressively. "He's gonna open up this damn watch if I have to shove it in his face, and we're going to rethink this whole stupid thing and that's final! He left me in charge, after all, so OPEN THE DAMN DOOR."

The quiet humming stopped. It was kind of eerie, really. The TARDIS had never been so silent before. Donna turned and pushed at the door gently; it swung open.

"Thank you," she said with as much dignity as she could muster, and then ran out of there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Her return to the academy was not as hurried as her dash out of it. She took her time, looking into store windows and actually enjoying the experience of being in another time, now that she knew it would end very soon.

But it was a small town, and soon enough she was huffing up the last flight to their flat. She cleaned up the breakfast things, mostly because she hated seeing dirty dishes, then wandered into ther bedroom to make the bed. She repacked her small suitcase. She had no idea how fast they would need to leave after the Doctor opened the watch. Would the Family of Blood be upon them immediately? Would they have to run?

Would the people here be safe?

Donna felt the first shiver of misgivings. They were after the Doctor, no one else. Surely there would be no point sticking around here for them.

Right?

This was dumb. Of course they'd be okay. The Doctor would think of something.

Before she knew it it was three o'clock, and she was sitting on the couch facing the door, watching the doorknob turn.

The Doctor swept in, hat and papers in hand, his face brightening as soon as he caught sight of her.

“Darling! Were you waiting for me?” he walked to her quickly, leaning down to kiss her cheek lingeringly. “I hope you weren't too bored all day. What did you do?”

“I...I toured the town. It's nice. Calm,” Donna said slowly, unsure how to start up the 'you're really a Time Lord, take a look at this nifty watch' conversation.

The Doctor was nodding, sliding the robe off his shoulders and making to toss it across a chair before guiltily casting a glance at Donna and moving to hang it neatly on the coat rack instead.

“Lovely little town, isn't it? Perfect place to raise that family we always wanted,” he stated casually.

Maybe she didn't need to have a conversation with him at all. He had said it was up to her, right? He would have never planned for things to go like this. He'd understand.

“Do-- John. I need you to fix something for me.”

“Oooh, of course! Already some handy household repairs for me to do?” he beamed at her, delighted at the domesticity.

“No, it's a trinket. That old watch I have,” she pulled the chain from her shirt, having to undo a few buttons from the tight, high neck to do so, and unaware of how the Doctor's eyes followed the movement of her fingers.

She handed the bundle to him, chain, key and watch. “I think it's broken. Can you fix it?”

He gave the TARDIS key a long, confused look, but didn't ask what it was for. The watch, however, he barely glanced at.

“Huh, old, simple thing. I would rather buy you a new one.”

“But I like that one.” She said pointedly. “Can you take a look and see what's wrong?”

“Of course, dear, if that is what you want. After I finish up some coursework, yes?” He put the watch aside, almost as if he couldn't keep his attention on it. Any other time he would have asked where she got it, why she had a man's pocket watch, what was wrong with it, etc. But it simply seemed to skip his mind.

“No, I'd rather you--”

The Doctor had already moved on to snatch up his bundle of papers, humming happily as he used the dining table to comfortably spread out all his notes.

Donna huffed out a frustrated breath and picked up her chain, key and watch. He'd stopped humming and was telling her about his day and she kept half an ear on it as she thought about what to do next. Could she open it herself? Did the “eau d' Time Lord” become less potent if the Doctor didn't do it himself? She didn't really know the mechanics of all this, but he'd said she could open it. Of course, he'd also said this would be a “like a holiday, Donna!” and boy if she had a pound for every time he'd been wrong--

It was after a second that she realized he'd gone silent, and it caught her attention enough to look his way.

He was gazing at her from the table and his eyes were soft. “I forgot to tell you, your hair looks lovely. Did you put it down for me?” he asked shyly, almost hopefully.

Her hand flew up and indeed, her hair hung loose over her shoulders. “Oh! I forgot to put it up after my bath!”

She pretended not to notice how his spirits fell a little at that as his gaze dropped to the table. “It is beautiful. You are beautiful.”

She blushed at the compliment and stammered out a “you're daft” as he rose from his seat to go to her, take her hands and lead her to sit with him at the table.

“I wish you'd believe me when I tell you,” he murmured sadly, before perking up. “How about you sit here and keep me company? Or I can use your brilliant mind at maths to help me grade these papers?”

She was still flustered, so only nodded her head dumbly.

Pleased, he twinkled at her and placed a neat stack of papers in front of her, then attacked his own stack with gusto and a continuation of endless babble.

Donna gazed down at the first page of neat figures and numbers, basic algebra. On automatic she picked up a pen, only to put it down again. This was mad. She just needed to get it done. He'd find another way.

Donna shook off her sudden stupor, tightened her hold on the watch and looked up at the Doctor. And then she really LOOKED at him.

And was taken aback completely.

He was grinning like mad, talking about all those "brilliant young minds, thirsty for knowledge, blah blah blah" and that grin was genuine. Not manic, not crazed, not 'I'm always all right' but an honest 'this is fun!' grin.

For weeks she'd been making herself sick worrying about his health and state of mind after Jenny and the Library and Midnight, and now he finally looked...relaxed.

For the first time in what seemed like forever.

It finally struck Donna -- ooh, you are so thick! soooo thick! -- what she should have known all along: none of this was about escaping the Family of Blood. This was simply about escaping from himself. He said it'd be like a holiday for her, ha! No, this wasn't about Donna at all (fancy that!) It was about him, all about his need to run, to forget if even for a little while. To let the mundane concerns of a human consume him -- no more loss, no more choices, no more 'who lives, who dies', no more 'second chances' that weren't chances at all.

He had that, for three months. Three months of not grieving or second-guessing.

Just John Smith, a regular bloke. Could she really take that away?

"Donna?" he asked quietly.

She blinked, refocused. "Eh?"

He smiled at her crookedly. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

She flushed and reached for one of the papers in front of her. "You look happy, is all."

His smile widened and he was suddenly reaching over the table to grasp her hands. "I am happy. I finally have a position where I am making a difference, and I have a gorgeous wife I love, and everything is right in the world."

You made a difference before. This is nothing! she screamed internally. But he'd never looked so carefree.

His hands tightened on hers and his eyes turned serious, cautious. "Are you not happy, Donna? You, me, starting this new life together?"

Donna sighed and smiled back because that was all she could do. "Yeah, love. I'm happy."

He stood and reached over to pull her up into a hug, radiating contentment, and Donna just closed her eyes and hugged him back. This was her Doctor, and he needed her to not just stop him, but to also run with him when that's all he could do.

And he was running now, perhaps harder than he ever had before.

Oh, you silly Martian, she thought in sad fondness as he gripped her tightly. All right. I'll let you run a little longer. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another evening passed. Donna created something vaguely edible (if you squinted and didn't chew too much) for dinner, but the Doctor never complained. Afterward they sat companionably in the living room, she learning the fine (read: brain-numbingly dull) art of crocheting, he with books, coursework, and a little blue journal. This, she would find in the coming days, would become their routine.

At bedtime she stood in front of her mirror, giving herself a pep-talk. She could do this, she told herself firmly. It's not like this was life threatening! All she had to do was avoid a few amorous advances, and she had that skill honed to an art thanks to her time as a temp. 'Course, the men putting the moves on her weren't usually her very alien, very platonic , (and actually pretty damn attractive if she had to be honest but really, what was this, the Inquisition?!)  very best friend. But then when all was said and done she'd have plenty of fodder to endlessly tease the Doctor with. They'd have a good laugh at the preposterous idea of him being hot for her and then she'd make him take her shopping.

Somewhere posh and ridiculously expensive. And she'd make him carry all the bags. Like Rodeo Drive. Yeah, that would work.

When she heard a knock at the door she turned to see the Doctor already entering her room, but this time she was unsurprised. Cuz she was going to be the best damn friend he'd ever had, make sure he got his "holiday" without anything really damaging happening between them, and after 3 months she was going to have a mountain of new shoes.

And life would go back to normal, even if it killed her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 4 - The Doctor's getting antsy

fanfiction, ten/donna, series: to err is human, fic:doctor who

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