The road less travelled...

Title: Five of a Kind 6/8
Author: katherine_b
Rating: At least PG…
Characters: Donna and the Doctor
Spoilers: There may be mentions of everything except the Next Doctor, so proceed with caution if that sort of thing bothers you.
Summary: Donna might be having a few regrets…
A/N: If you haven’t read All In her Mind, which was part one of this story, or Lost for Words, which was part 2, in those stories the Doctor and Donna were happily reunited and had a bit of fun one night when they played board games and the Doctor got a bit drunk. Well, a lot drunk. Well, completely smashed, actually. And it was all Donna’s fault (or so the Doctor claims). They ended up in bed together. This is the consequence of that happening…

Part VI

Careful not to turn around and reveal absolutely everything, Donna slides somewhat awkwardly up onto the bed and settles on her back. Martha covers her with a blanket and then pulls up the gown to reveal her stomach before picking up a plastic squeeze bottle.

“Sorry, this is going to be cold,” she apologises, squeezing a large blob of clear gel onto Donna’s skin.

“So many advances in modern technology and they still can’t make a lubrication gel that can be heated,” Donna grumbles, reaching out her hand for the Doctor.

“Oh, they have,” the Doctor assures her, wrapping his fingers around hers. “Just not on Earth. We’ll get some and bring it along the next time Martha wants to see you.”

Martha laughs and then picks up the ultrasound wand, pressing it to the lower part of Donna’s stomach.

“So, six hearts,” she says lightly, but Donna recognises a slight tension in her voice.

“Well, that’s what we’re here to make sure of,” she says as cheerfully as she can, and gives the Doctor’s fingers a subtle but meaningful squeeze.

“Yes, just want to make sure the TARDIS isn’t imagining things,” he says at once.

Donna winks and is pleased at his answering grin. They talked about this situation on the way to Torchwood and so far he’s sticking perfectly to the script.

“Well,” Martha says suddenly, pointing at a screen that is attached to the wall at an angle, “there’s one. Two, I should say. Two hearts, one baby.”

Donna looks up and sees the faintest flicker of movement on the screen – a tiny flutter that matches the little pulse throbbing in her mind. Then, as Martha moves the ultrasound to one side, a second miniscule beat is pulsing on the screen in front of them. The third appears an instant later.

“Well…” Martha falls silent and they stare at the small twitching objects in front of them for a long minute.

“I said it was weird,” says Donna in the end.

Martha chuckles and lifts up the wand, grabbing some tissues to wipe it clean. “Definitely no problems. Everything is where it ought to be and they look fine. Of course, it’s a little hard to tell this early – how early is it, by the way?”

Donna grins. “At the most, four days. Probably two.”

Martha’s eyes widen in obvious shock and the act of cleaning the ultrasound stops dead. Then she half-smiles. “Oh, come on,” she says with a wry grin. Then, as neither of the others speak, she seems to realize that they’re being serious and her eyes widen in surprise. “Really?”

“Really.” The Doctor answers her question, his expression serious. “I can feel them, Martha. So can Donna. She told you about that room she found. The TARDIS was showing her.” He cocks his head slightly to one side as he looks at her. “Want to hear them the way we do?”

Martha’s still looking from one of them to the other in disbelief, but after a moment, she gives a slow nod.

“Um… okay…”

Donna watches as the Doctor tells Martha to close her eyes, and remembers when he did this to her – first on the Oodsphere, and then that terrible day he took away her memories. Trying not to shudder, she closes her own eyes and focuses on those faint pulses throbbing so quickly within her. It’s a sound that never fails to make her smile and it drives away that instant of unhappiness.

As she opens her eyes again, however, she knows that the Doctor has picked up on the spot of darkness in the otherwise bright landscape of her mind. He’s looking at her in concern and she smiles to reassure him. Then she turns her attention to Martha and sees the frankly startled look on the other woman’s face.

“That,” Martha says definitively, “is weird.”

“Told you so,” crows Donna. “Now,” as the Doctor removes his hands from Martha’s temples and steps back, “how about you clean me up so that we can get out of here before Jack gets back?”

Martha chuckles. “All right, I can deal with that. Doctor, can you wait outside? I’ll give Donna a hand and have a quick chat about girly things.”

“Uh, right.”

The Doctor’s face is a mixture of emotions that makes Donna grin. She knows he doesn’t want to bump into Jack and have to answer awkward questions – they were both relieved when they arrived to find that he was out tracking down something alien in Cardiff – but the Doctor also has no desire to have to listen to a conversation that promises to be either boring or disgusting, or probably both.

In the end he leaves the office and Martha helps Donna up before bringing in her clothes from the other room.

“Do you hear that all the time?”

“Mmm hmm.” Donna does up her bra under the gown. “I’m able to block it out sometimes though. I’d go spare otherwise with that racket going on in my mind.”

“But – did you have it before?”

Donna finally picks up on the tone in Martha’s voice and looks up. At that moment, she realises how quickly she’s adjusted to the idea of hearing so many different sounds in her head. It’s not just the heartbeats, but other noises that creep, almost unnoticed, into the back corners of her mind, waiting for her to pay attention to them. There’s the constant presence of the TARDIS, the Doctor’s rapid-fire thoughts, and so many other sounds and interruptions that she’s learned to block most of it just so she can function.

She thinks about Martha’s question for a moment and then nods. “I guess I did, yeah. But we were so busy that I didn’t have a chance to hear it then. Now, though, things aren’t quite so urgent and I can pay more attention.”

“You’re turning into him.”

“No.” Donna pulls up her pants and hops down off the bed. “I’ve still got human instinct. He doesn’t. Everything I’ll do will have that human spark, which he never will. But he’s got the Time Lord instinct that I’ll never have. I was more like him when I was the DoctorDonna than I am now. It’s – oh, I can’t make you understand!” She cuts herself off, trying not to get frustrated, but there’s just no way to make Martha appreciate what she’s going through. “I’m still me,” she says in the end. “I just hear more – know more – that’s all.”

Martha nods, but Donna knows she doesn’t really understand. And, Donna suddenly realises, Martha doesn’t really want to understand either. Martha tries to think of the Doctor as human, just as Rose did. Those moments when the Doctor shows that he’s an alien are deeply unnerving for her because it proves that she’s wrong. It only made things worse when Donna changed in the Crucible. And there are no words Donna can speak now that will make things better.

“Never mind,” she says cheerfully, sliding her arm through Martha’s with a squeeze that Martha only faintly reciprocates. “Let’s go and see if the Doctor’s managed to escape being corralled by Jack.”

* * *
As they get out into the Torchwood lobby, they find that he hasn’t. Jack’s voice is booming down the hallway and he’s prodding the Doctor in the chest.

“I’ll tell you something, Doctor, their first words had better not be ‘are you my mummy?’ Now, where’s that little woman of yours?” He looks around and sees the two women approaching. “Ah! There you are! Donna Noble!”

Donna smiles, but it’s not a particularly comfortable smile. For the first time, she can feel how indefinably wrong Jack is. A fixed event in time and space. Definitely shouldn’t be there, and yet he is. No wonder the Doctor isn’t too keen on him.

“Captain,” she says somewhat tightly. “Good to see you again. Oh,” she adds as he sweeps her up into an embrace, “you’re willing to hug me this time, are you? That makes a change.”

He chuckles. “Just this once, eh? Gotta let a guy have a little fun, and I reckon the Doctor won’t mind.”

She slaps him reprovingly on the arm as he lets her go. “Cheeky,” she scolds.

“And that’s enough of that,” the Doctor says firmly, coming over and taking Donna’s hand in an obviously protective gesture. She chuckles at the annoyance she can feel in his mind and arches an eyebrow as he looks at her. “We’d better be going. Your mother will never forgive us if we don’t turn up on time.”

The other eyebrow shoots up to join its mate and she nearly chokes. Only the hard pressure of the Doctor’s arm on hers prevents her from exclaiming.

“Ye-es,” she agrees slowly, determined not to let him get away with things that easily. He casts a somewhat uneasy glance in her direction before turning to Martha.

“When do you want to see Donna again?”

“Hmm, I’d say when you’re about a month along,” comes the ready reply. “Later we’ll do weekly appointments, but unless you’re concerned or there seems to be a problem, a month should be fine.”

“Brilliant.” He beams at the group around them. “Well, best be off. See you soon.”

And with that he’s hustling her out of the building to where the TARDIS is refuelling on the Rift. However Donna beats him to the controls and grins impishly as he closes the door.

“So,” she says with a chuckle, “off to Chiswick we go then.”

“What?” he squawks indignantly. “I mean – well, I know I said… but I didn’t, you know, mean it!”

She grins so widely that her cheeks hurt, punching in the co-ordinates and starting the dematerialisation sequence as the Doctor yelps in horror. “Bad luck, Spaceman. You put your foot in it and now you’re going to keep your word.”

“No – Donna – wait!” He sidles up behind her and slides his arms around her, resting his hands on her stomach, and dots a kiss on that sensitive place behind her ear. “Let’s think about this. I mean,” he reaches around and manages to press the button that cancels their destination, leaving them hovering in the vortex, “surely there’s got to be something you’d rather do than visit your mother?”

“Honestly?” She turns around in the circle of his arms and grins, giving him a moment of hope. Then it all crashes down around him as the grin becomes wicked. “Nope,” she says cheerfully, pushing him away and resetting the TARDIS.

The Doctor drops into the jumpseat, groans and buries his face in his hands.

Part 7