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Title: Five of a Kind 4/8
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
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 IV
“Five of a kind?”
The Doctor’s head suddenly snaps up and he glares at his companion, who is sitting opposite him at the kitchen table, savouring the last of the chocolate mousse she had made earlier that evening.
“How did you manage five of a kind?”
Donna arches an eyebrow, her lips quirking in amusement, and slowly licks the spoon. “Everything that happened that night and all you can remember is me getting five of a kind?”
He shrugs, trying not to blush or grin too widely. Unfortunately he fails in both endeavours and can feel his cheeks glowing. “Well, it has been a week,” he says. “I’ve, you know, processed everything else.”
“I bet you have, Spaceman.” She smirks. “I just bet you have.”
There’s a moment of silence while Donna scoops up another mouthful of the mousse and begins licking it very delicately off the spoon.
“So where did the five of a kind come from?”
Donna rolls her eyes. “Are you really that vague? Didn’t you not notice that the backs of the cards were different colours?”
“Huh?”
“We were playing with two packs, Doctor.”
He stares at her for a long moment before exploding. “Why, you – you cheating – ”
“Watch it!”
He points at her accusingly. “You – you cheat, too!”
“Too?” Donna arches an eyebrow. “So you finally admit that you cheat?”
“I don’t – I – not like that!”
She snorts loudly.
“I see, so cheating is something done by anybody else, but never by a Time Lord!”
“Exactly!” He beams, glad she got it so quickly.
“Hypocrite!”
“Hey!”
Donna grins. “Come on then, Spaceman. Maybe we can both get through a game without cheating this time. Poker again?”
He quirks an eyebrow. “TARDIS rules again?”
“Unless you’ve found the chips.” She chuckles in a way that he suspects is more than just amusement at his habit of misplacing his belongings.
The Doctor goes over to the games cupboard, which has conveniently appeared in the corner, and opens the doors. “Or would you rather play Scrabble? Or Twister?” He grins. “Jack likes Twister.”
“I bet he does,” comes Donna’s retort from the bench, where she’s apparently making more drinks.
“Go a little easier on the alcohol this time, please,” he tells her, before turning back to the cupboard. “What about Monopoly then? Or Trivial Pursuit?”
“I’d prefer a game we could finish this millennium, thanks,” comes the sarcastic reply.
“Uno?”
“Yeah, all right.” Donna comes across to the table and sets down a tray that holds two full jugs and two glasses.
“Brilliant!” The Doctor picks up the pack of Uno cards and joins her, sitting opposite and eying the jug somewhat suspiciously. “What is it this time?”
“Banana daiquiri.”
“Really?”
“Or banana milkshake. Can’t quite remember which.”
“And yours?” he asks, putting on his glasses to get a closer look at the vividly blue liquid with ice floating on top.
“Blue Hawaii.” She shrugs as he stares at her amazement. “Hey, I get a bit tired of sidecars all the time.”
He can’t help being a bit suspicious, as he didn’t think she liked pineapple. Leaving her to deal out the cards, he pours their respective drinks, but then grabs her glass before she can take it and sips the contents, slamming it back down onto the table with a howl of victory and sloshing the contents all over the cards and the table.
“It’s water again! Water and food colouring! You were trying to do exactly the same thing as last time!” He grins. “Hah! I caught you!”
Donna smiles smugly. “Well, I don’t know about Gallifrey or anywhere else in the universe, but on Earth, they advise pregnant women not to drink alcohol.”
The Doctor peers over the top of his glasses at her. “Well, yes, that’s very sensible advice, of course. Alcohol can cause all sorts of… problems… if you’re… preg…”
He stares at her, his lower jaw hanging loose, as if someone has disconnected it from the rest of his face. Then his mouth works for a moment or two without sound.
“Wh – ugh – what?” he finally manages to get out.
“Martha said to say ‘hello’,” she tells him. “Now, are we going to finish this game or not?”
“What?” he repeats, unable to think of anything more intelligent to say.
She smiles at him, her gaze steady, but there’s a flicker of uncertainty in her blue eyes.
“What?” he demands for the third time.
Donna sits back in her chair and the smug smile falters. Her eyes sink in the direction of the table between them and he can almost feel her disappointment and misery. There’s guilt lurking in the back of her gaze, and he’s suddenly furious with himself for having caused it.
“Donna,” he says softly, reaching across the table to her, but she pulls her hands back into her lap and looks up at the ceiling, blinking hard.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “So sorry.”
“No!” Unable to reassure her, he slams his hand down on the table, sending cards and glasses flying. She flinches, but he stands up and leans over towards her, appalled when she cowers away. “Don’t you dare apologise to me for this! What do you think I am – angry? Upset? About to throw you out into the vortex – or dump you back in Chiswick with your mother?” He reaches out for her. “Don’t be so daft, Donna Nob– ”
He’s halfway through her surname when he finally makes contact with her hand, and the sensation that ripples through his body cuts off his words. There’s a sound like a drum pounding in his ears, the tempo both fast and erratic, and he knows that the noise comes from the tiny being growing inside Donna.
He stares at her, his hand holding hers in a vice-like grip, listening as that erratic beat pulses through him. And that’s when he realises he’s wrong. There’s not one heart beating inside that miniscule semi-formed body. Not two either. He counts rapidly: three. No, four. Five. Six.
Six.
Six, plus Donna’s own heart.
In a state of near-disbelief, he sinks back into this chair, his hand still clutching Donna’s.
He lifts his eyes to hers and sees the look of uncertainty in their blue depths.
“Donna,” he says softly, and his voice is strangely hoarse.
Sudden tears sparkle in her eyes and she lowers her gaze to the table once more. “Doctor,” she says slowly, “I… I’m…”
Before she can say anything else, he leaps to his feet and pulls her up, leaning over the table and pressing his lips against hers in a fierce, hungry, almost angry kiss.
With one hand he grabs the edge of the table and pushes it to one side. As soon as it’s out of the way, he slides his arm around Donna’s waist and pulls her towards him. Her body crashes against his and he almost loses his balance, but he steps back and just manages to keep them upright.
Donna’s eyes are closed and, as he strokes the hair away from her face and wipes a stray tear off her cheek, he can feel the tension draining from her body. Her arms wrap around his back in an almost desperate hug and she breaks the kiss only to bury her face in his shoulder.
“Donna,” he murmurs in her ear, “did you really think I’d be angry?”
She shrugs.
“Why?” he asks. “Why did you think that?”
He gently eases her away so that he can look into her face, cupping her cheek in his right hand, the other smoothing her hair.
“Donna?” he prompts. “Why?”
She shrugs again, avoiding his gaze. “It’s just – I remember how you were – with Jenny.”
“Ah.” Memories of Messaline come tumbling back and he suddenly understands Donna’s reticence. “Dad shock,” he suggests with a teasing grin, knowing that that isn’t where her concerns lie, but he wants to see a smile on her face.
“Yeah,” she agrees softly, the lines of tension starting to fade from around her mouth and there’s a faint sparkle in her eyes again.
“And,” he says briskly, “who was it who talked me out of that pitiful state?” He tilts his head to one side and looks at her. “If I’m not mistaken, I do believe it was Miss Donna Noble.”
“When was the last time you were ‘mistaken’, Spaceman?” she teases in reply, and he relaxes because if she’s using that term – he’s never quite sure if she means it as an endearment or an insult – then she’s recovering.
He grins, sliding his thumb lightly along her bottom lip because he knows it always makes her smile and it does now. Her lips curl ever so slightly upwards.
“All right?” he asks, sliding his arm around her shoulders and holding her against him.
“All right,” she agrees softly.
“Really all right?”
She nods, lifting one hand and pressing it lightly to his chest in between his two hearts. “Really all right.”
“Good.” He squeezes gently. With her in his arms, the throbbing of seven hearts is clear in his mind and he closes his eyes, focusing on the sound. At this moment, he thinks it’s probably the best noise in the whole universe.
“I think, Donna Noble,” he says, softly and slowly, “that I might just love you.”
Part 5
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 IV
“Five of a kind?”
The Doctor’s head suddenly snaps up and he glares at his companion, who is sitting opposite him at the kitchen table, savouring the last of the chocolate mousse she had made earlier that evening.
“How did you manage five of a kind?”
Donna arches an eyebrow, her lips quirking in amusement, and slowly licks the spoon. “Everything that happened that night and all you can remember is me getting five of a kind?”
He shrugs, trying not to blush or grin too widely. Unfortunately he fails in both endeavours and can feel his cheeks glowing. “Well, it has been a week,” he says. “I’ve, you know, processed everything else.”
“I bet you have, Spaceman.” She smirks. “I just bet you have.”
There’s a moment of silence while Donna scoops up another mouthful of the mousse and begins licking it very delicately off the spoon.
“So where did the five of a kind come from?”
Donna rolls her eyes. “Are you really that vague? Didn’t you not notice that the backs of the cards were different colours?”
“Huh?”
“We were playing with two packs, Doctor.”
He stares at her for a long moment before exploding. “Why, you – you cheating – ”
“Watch it!”
He points at her accusingly. “You – you cheat, too!”
“Too?” Donna arches an eyebrow. “So you finally admit that you cheat?”
“I don’t – I – not like that!”
She snorts loudly.
“I see, so cheating is something done by anybody else, but never by a Time Lord!”
“Exactly!” He beams, glad she got it so quickly.
“Hypocrite!”
“Hey!”
Donna grins. “Come on then, Spaceman. Maybe we can both get through a game without cheating this time. Poker again?”
He quirks an eyebrow. “TARDIS rules again?”
“Unless you’ve found the chips.” She chuckles in a way that he suspects is more than just amusement at his habit of misplacing his belongings.
The Doctor goes over to the games cupboard, which has conveniently appeared in the corner, and opens the doors. “Or would you rather play Scrabble? Or Twister?” He grins. “Jack likes Twister.”
“I bet he does,” comes Donna’s retort from the bench, where she’s apparently making more drinks.
“Go a little easier on the alcohol this time, please,” he tells her, before turning back to the cupboard. “What about Monopoly then? Or Trivial Pursuit?”
“I’d prefer a game we could finish this millennium, thanks,” comes the sarcastic reply.
“Uno?”
“Yeah, all right.” Donna comes across to the table and sets down a tray that holds two full jugs and two glasses.
“Brilliant!” The Doctor picks up the pack of Uno cards and joins her, sitting opposite and eying the jug somewhat suspiciously. “What is it this time?”
“Banana daiquiri.”
“Really?”
“Or banana milkshake. Can’t quite remember which.”
“And yours?” he asks, putting on his glasses to get a closer look at the vividly blue liquid with ice floating on top.
“Blue Hawaii.” She shrugs as he stares at her amazement. “Hey, I get a bit tired of sidecars all the time.”
He can’t help being a bit suspicious, as he didn’t think she liked pineapple. Leaving her to deal out the cards, he pours their respective drinks, but then grabs her glass before she can take it and sips the contents, slamming it back down onto the table with a howl of victory and sloshing the contents all over the cards and the table.
“It’s water again! Water and food colouring! You were trying to do exactly the same thing as last time!” He grins. “Hah! I caught you!”
Donna smiles smugly. “Well, I don’t know about Gallifrey or anywhere else in the universe, but on Earth, they advise pregnant women not to drink alcohol.”
The Doctor peers over the top of his glasses at her. “Well, yes, that’s very sensible advice, of course. Alcohol can cause all sorts of… problems… if you’re… preg…”
He stares at her, his lower jaw hanging loose, as if someone has disconnected it from the rest of his face. Then his mouth works for a moment or two without sound.
“Wh – ugh – what?” he finally manages to get out.
“Martha said to say ‘hello’,” she tells him. “Now, are we going to finish this game or not?”
“What?” he repeats, unable to think of anything more intelligent to say.
She smiles at him, her gaze steady, but there’s a flicker of uncertainty in her blue eyes.
“What?” he demands for the third time.
Donna sits back in her chair and the smug smile falters. Her eyes sink in the direction of the table between them and he can almost feel her disappointment and misery. There’s guilt lurking in the back of her gaze, and he’s suddenly furious with himself for having caused it.
“Donna,” he says softly, reaching across the table to her, but she pulls her hands back into her lap and looks up at the ceiling, blinking hard.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “So sorry.”
“No!” Unable to reassure her, he slams his hand down on the table, sending cards and glasses flying. She flinches, but he stands up and leans over towards her, appalled when she cowers away. “Don’t you dare apologise to me for this! What do you think I am – angry? Upset? About to throw you out into the vortex – or dump you back in Chiswick with your mother?” He reaches out for her. “Don’t be so daft, Donna Nob– ”
He’s halfway through her surname when he finally makes contact with her hand, and the sensation that ripples through his body cuts off his words. There’s a sound like a drum pounding in his ears, the tempo both fast and erratic, and he knows that the noise comes from the tiny being growing inside Donna.
He stares at her, his hand holding hers in a vice-like grip, listening as that erratic beat pulses through him. And that’s when he realises he’s wrong. There’s not one heart beating inside that miniscule semi-formed body. Not two either. He counts rapidly: three. No, four. Five. Six.
Six.
Six, plus Donna’s own heart.
In a state of near-disbelief, he sinks back into this chair, his hand still clutching Donna’s.
He lifts his eyes to hers and sees the look of uncertainty in their blue depths.
“Donna,” he says softly, and his voice is strangely hoarse.
Sudden tears sparkle in her eyes and she lowers her gaze to the table once more. “Doctor,” she says slowly, “I… I’m…”
Before she can say anything else, he leaps to his feet and pulls her up, leaning over the table and pressing his lips against hers in a fierce, hungry, almost angry kiss.
With one hand he grabs the edge of the table and pushes it to one side. As soon as it’s out of the way, he slides his arm around Donna’s waist and pulls her towards him. Her body crashes against his and he almost loses his balance, but he steps back and just manages to keep them upright.
Donna’s eyes are closed and, as he strokes the hair away from her face and wipes a stray tear off her cheek, he can feel the tension draining from her body. Her arms wrap around his back in an almost desperate hug and she breaks the kiss only to bury her face in his shoulder.
“Donna,” he murmurs in her ear, “did you really think I’d be angry?”
She shrugs.
“Why?” he asks. “Why did you think that?”
He gently eases her away so that he can look into her face, cupping her cheek in his right hand, the other smoothing her hair.
“Donna?” he prompts. “Why?”
She shrugs again, avoiding his gaze. “It’s just – I remember how you were – with Jenny.”
“Ah.” Memories of Messaline come tumbling back and he suddenly understands Donna’s reticence. “Dad shock,” he suggests with a teasing grin, knowing that that isn’t where her concerns lie, but he wants to see a smile on her face.
“Yeah,” she agrees softly, the lines of tension starting to fade from around her mouth and there’s a faint sparkle in her eyes again.
“And,” he says briskly, “who was it who talked me out of that pitiful state?” He tilts his head to one side and looks at her. “If I’m not mistaken, I do believe it was Miss Donna Noble.”
“When was the last time you were ‘mistaken’, Spaceman?” she teases in reply, and he relaxes because if she’s using that term – he’s never quite sure if she means it as an endearment or an insult – then she’s recovering.
He grins, sliding his thumb lightly along her bottom lip because he knows it always makes her smile and it does now. Her lips curl ever so slightly upwards.
“All right?” he asks, sliding his arm around her shoulders and holding her against him.
“All right,” she agrees softly.
“Really all right?”
She nods, lifting one hand and pressing it lightly to his chest in between his two hearts. “Really all right.”
“Good.” He squeezes gently. With her in his arms, the throbbing of seven hearts is clear in his mind and he closes his eyes, focusing on the sound. At this moment, he thinks it’s probably the best noise in the whole universe.
“I think, Donna Noble,” he says, softly and slowly, “that I might just love you.”
Part 5
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