Holidays couldn't last forever. Which probably explained why Donna was knee-deep in mud, soaking wet, freezing cold and three miles from the bleedin' TARDIS. Warm tropic suns, the Doctor had said. Glorious sunny beaches, he'd promised. The greatest meteor shower this side of the galaxy. Too bad they'd landed a decade too early in the middle of
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Aye, Sweetheart, that sounds lovely."
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Donna squeaks and starts to protest, but Wilf quickly cuts her off. "Don't deny it sweetheart. I'm old but I'm not blind. I know you fancied him from the moment you told me about 'im!"
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There's a slight knock at the TARDIS door.
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Donna rests her hands on her hips, looking between her two favourite men. "About that! No more secret adventures you two. Got it?"
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The Doctor, of course...promptly ignores Donna's demands.
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"New New Italy?" Wilf chimes in. "What happened to old Italy?"
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Donna can't help a laugh escaping her. "Yup. You'll love it, Gramps."
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Wilf chuckled. "That's my girl."
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"Oh aye, spoiling you, was he?" Wilf chimes in.
"Always, Gramps."
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