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Title: Missing
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
katherine_b
Rating: General
Prompt Word: Lipstick
Notes/Warning: Spoilers for Journey's End.
A/N: Written for the third Weekly Drabble Challenge
It’s the one thing that her mother and Wilf can’t, or don’t, explain – why so many of her belongings have disappeared.
Donna can deal with the idea of planets in the sky and upturned rubbish bins shooting lasers at people, but she can’t understand how she can have lost almost the entire contents of her wardrobe as well as the various bits and pieces that lived in the drawers beside her bed.
And she really gets freaked out when the packages start arriving.
One every day.
An item of clothing she’s always valued.
And a photo.
A picture of her wearing that object, always in a foreign location, supporting the idea that she was away.
She can’t explain why, but after gratefully putting her recovered piece of clothing away, she pins the photo to the wall.
Within a few weeks, she has a brightly coloured collage of her in all sorts of amazing and exotic locations, standing in front of icy or sandy or just plain foreign locales.
It’s months before the packages stop, but when they do, her room is finally full again and she feels at home there.
And she never notices that one thing never does come back.
Her favourite lipstick.
The one she lost on the last day of the events she can never remember.
Only the TARDIS knows that, hidden away beneath the bed of the room that the Doctor never enters, and which his thoughtful ship moves far away so he never finds it by mistake, is a small silver tube with the remains of cherry-coloured lipstick.
And Donna never realises that, if she stepped back and looked at the collage of photos on her wall, they make up an image of a blue police box that will always remember the loud, brash, cheerful redhead that made such a difference when she appeared.
The TARDIS never gets over the loss of Donna Noble either.
Author:
katherine_bRating: General
Prompt Word: Lipstick
Notes/Warning: Spoilers for Journey's End.
A/N: Written for the third Weekly Drabble Challenge
It’s the one thing that her mother and Wilf can’t, or don’t, explain – why so many of her belongings have disappeared.
Donna can deal with the idea of planets in the sky and upturned rubbish bins shooting lasers at people, but she can’t understand how she can have lost almost the entire contents of her wardrobe as well as the various bits and pieces that lived in the drawers beside her bed.
And she really gets freaked out when the packages start arriving.
One every day.
An item of clothing she’s always valued.
And a photo.
A picture of her wearing that object, always in a foreign location, supporting the idea that she was away.
She can’t explain why, but after gratefully putting her recovered piece of clothing away, she pins the photo to the wall.
Within a few weeks, she has a brightly coloured collage of her in all sorts of amazing and exotic locations, standing in front of icy or sandy or just plain foreign locales.
It’s months before the packages stop, but when they do, her room is finally full again and she feels at home there.
And she never notices that one thing never does come back.
Her favourite lipstick.
The one she lost on the last day of the events she can never remember.
Only the TARDIS knows that, hidden away beneath the bed of the room that the Doctor never enters, and which his thoughtful ship moves far away so he never finds it by mistake, is a small silver tube with the remains of cherry-coloured lipstick.
And Donna never realises that, if she stepped back and looked at the collage of photos on her wall, they make up an image of a blue police box that will always remember the loud, brash, cheerful redhead that made such a difference when she appeared.
The TARDIS never gets over the loss of Donna Noble either.
depressed