fic: Moaning and Groaning
moaning and groaning
classic cliche: the doctor is ill and donna is taking care of him.
ten/donna friendship, shippiness implied
(a/n: JD don't hate me.)
Donna sighed as she settled down in her chair again and reached for her book. Her feet were starting to ache from all this running about the TARDIS and her head was beginning to pound a dull rhythm not unlike her heartbeat. But there was nothing that could be done for either, she reminded herself, so there was no use complaining. She opened her book to the place she’d marked and began to read.
Exactly three and a half pages later, just like last time, and the time before that, and the time before that, a low moan caught her ears. And just like last time, and the time before that, and the time before that, she ignored it for another half a page before her conscience began poking her between the ribs and she put her book down. She dug the heels of her hands into her eyes, as though trying to rub away the pounding sensation that was growing there, before she got up and made her way to the Doctor’s room.
The trip was quick and practiced by this point. The first few times she’d heard him stirring she’d fallen over herself racing through the corridors and only a gentle nudge in the back of her mind from the TARDIS had kept her from getting lost. Now, though, she didn’t even need to listen to the sound of the Doctor’s voice to make her way. She stopped outside his door and listened for a moment as his moans got slowly louder.
“Okay, Doctor, what is it this time?” she said, entering the room and crossing her arms. He looked up at her with bloodshot eyes and gave a very pitiful cough. She rolled her eyes. “Coughing isn’t an answer, Sunshine. You’ve got to tell me what you want. I gave up on guessing games three trips ago. You’ve got a cold, not cancer.”
The Doctor’s eyes glinted a little and he gave her a glare. In a creaking voice, he said, “I have not got a cold, Donna! I told you-” This was undercut by a real bout of coughs, which brought Donna to his side. She picked up a pitcher of water the TARDIS had provided four trips ago and poured him a glass. She sat on the bed next to him and steadied him as he drank it. When he’d finally calmed, he lay back on the pillows and groaned. “Damn you humans and your illnesses,” he said as forcefully as he could in his croaky voice, bringing his fists down on the bed with a soft thump. He turned away from Donna and sniffled a bit, causing her to grimace.
“Ah, no,” she said, reaching for a box of tissues. “None of that. If you sniff all that up, you’re going to end up with an even nastier cough than you’ve got now.” She pulled a tissue out and pressed it into his hand. “Blow,” she instructed. “And really try this time; you haven’t got a respiratory bypass for nothing.”
It was her turn to level him with a glare when he looked about to protest and he finally sighed and blew his nose. It was several tissues before she was satisfied that his nose was clear (and she made him sniff quite a few times to really be sure) and she finally collected them all in a bin that the TARDIS had provided two trips ago. The Doctor avoided looking at her and fidgeted with his blanket.
“Well?” she asked after a few moments of silence. He still didn’t look at her. For a moment she wondered if he was still sore that she’d taken his sonic screwdriver the last time she’d made a trip down here, but decided that couldn’t be it if he’d called for her-well, called in his way. She rolled her eyes a bit and nudged him with her knee. “Come on, then, I can’t have made the trip down here for nothing.”
Finally, he turned to look at her and she raised her eyebrows. He scowled and said, “I was cold, alright? I wanted you to get me another blanket.” He saw her hide a smile and that apparently sparked his anger. His raised voice made Donna’s head pound. “Oh, don’t you laugh at me! I am in agony down here! Achy all over, fluids running rampant and coming out of orifices I didn’t know could excrete fluid! And this damn sore throat and the cough! I’ve had enough of it! And I won’t have you laughing at me, either!”
“Do shut up,” Donna said, rolling her eyes and standing up. “If any of us is in agony, it’s me! Running up and down the TARDIS corridors to see what new torture you’ve discovered about being ill, sitting down for a minute and having to heave myself back up on my aching feet. You talk about your head aching-what about me? I can barely see straight to walk! And because you can’t use it, you don’t have a single aspirin on this whole bleeding ship!” Her head throbbed painfully again and she glared at him before she turned away.
Donna picked up the blanket that the TARDIS had put in a chair across the room and carefully laid it over the Doctor, making sure he could adjust it easily if he wanted. She turned on her heel and was almost at the door when the Doctor said, “If you’ve got a headache, just take the blue pills in the white bottle labeled ‘head’ in the infirmary.”
A smile crossed Donna’s face and she called back a thank-you as she left. She stopped in the infirmary on the way back to the library and took a blue pill from the white bottle labeled “head.” Her headache disappeared in ten seconds. She smiled and continued back to the library and the chair that had patiently waited for her.
Not three and a half pages later, another moan met her ears.
/end
classic cliche: the doctor is ill and donna is taking care of him.
ten/donna friendship, shippiness implied
(a/n: JD don't hate me.)
Donna sighed as she settled down in her chair again and reached for her book. Her feet were starting to ache from all this running about the TARDIS and her head was beginning to pound a dull rhythm not unlike her heartbeat. But there was nothing that could be done for either, she reminded herself, so there was no use complaining. She opened her book to the place she’d marked and began to read.
Exactly three and a half pages later, just like last time, and the time before that, and the time before that, a low moan caught her ears. And just like last time, and the time before that, and the time before that, she ignored it for another half a page before her conscience began poking her between the ribs and she put her book down. She dug the heels of her hands into her eyes, as though trying to rub away the pounding sensation that was growing there, before she got up and made her way to the Doctor’s room.
The trip was quick and practiced by this point. The first few times she’d heard him stirring she’d fallen over herself racing through the corridors and only a gentle nudge in the back of her mind from the TARDIS had kept her from getting lost. Now, though, she didn’t even need to listen to the sound of the Doctor’s voice to make her way. She stopped outside his door and listened for a moment as his moans got slowly louder.
“Okay, Doctor, what is it this time?” she said, entering the room and crossing her arms. He looked up at her with bloodshot eyes and gave a very pitiful cough. She rolled her eyes. “Coughing isn’t an answer, Sunshine. You’ve got to tell me what you want. I gave up on guessing games three trips ago. You’ve got a cold, not cancer.”
The Doctor’s eyes glinted a little and he gave her a glare. In a creaking voice, he said, “I have not got a cold, Donna! I told you-” This was undercut by a real bout of coughs, which brought Donna to his side. She picked up a pitcher of water the TARDIS had provided four trips ago and poured him a glass. She sat on the bed next to him and steadied him as he drank it. When he’d finally calmed, he lay back on the pillows and groaned. “Damn you humans and your illnesses,” he said as forcefully as he could in his croaky voice, bringing his fists down on the bed with a soft thump. He turned away from Donna and sniffled a bit, causing her to grimace.
“Ah, no,” she said, reaching for a box of tissues. “None of that. If you sniff all that up, you’re going to end up with an even nastier cough than you’ve got now.” She pulled a tissue out and pressed it into his hand. “Blow,” she instructed. “And really try this time; you haven’t got a respiratory bypass for nothing.”
It was her turn to level him with a glare when he looked about to protest and he finally sighed and blew his nose. It was several tissues before she was satisfied that his nose was clear (and she made him sniff quite a few times to really be sure) and she finally collected them all in a bin that the TARDIS had provided two trips ago. The Doctor avoided looking at her and fidgeted with his blanket.
“Well?” she asked after a few moments of silence. He still didn’t look at her. For a moment she wondered if he was still sore that she’d taken his sonic screwdriver the last time she’d made a trip down here, but decided that couldn’t be it if he’d called for her-well, called in his way. She rolled her eyes a bit and nudged him with her knee. “Come on, then, I can’t have made the trip down here for nothing.”
Finally, he turned to look at her and she raised her eyebrows. He scowled and said, “I was cold, alright? I wanted you to get me another blanket.” He saw her hide a smile and that apparently sparked his anger. His raised voice made Donna’s head pound. “Oh, don’t you laugh at me! I am in agony down here! Achy all over, fluids running rampant and coming out of orifices I didn’t know could excrete fluid! And this damn sore throat and the cough! I’ve had enough of it! And I won’t have you laughing at me, either!”
“Do shut up,” Donna said, rolling her eyes and standing up. “If any of us is in agony, it’s me! Running up and down the TARDIS corridors to see what new torture you’ve discovered about being ill, sitting down for a minute and having to heave myself back up on my aching feet. You talk about your head aching-what about me? I can barely see straight to walk! And because you can’t use it, you don’t have a single aspirin on this whole bleeding ship!” Her head throbbed painfully again and she glared at him before she turned away.
Donna picked up the blanket that the TARDIS had put in a chair across the room and carefully laid it over the Doctor, making sure he could adjust it easily if he wanted. She turned on her heel and was almost at the door when the Doctor said, “If you’ve got a headache, just take the blue pills in the white bottle labeled ‘head’ in the infirmary.”
A smile crossed Donna’s face and she called back a thank-you as she left. She stopped in the infirmary on the way back to the library and took a blue pill from the white bottle labeled “head.” Her headache disappeared in ten seconds. She smiled and continued back to the library and the chair that had patiently waited for her.
Not three and a half pages later, another moan met her ears.
/end