Doctor Who Fic: Not Quite As Planned - Chapter 23
Time flies by so quickly. I really should post this now, as I've been intending to do so for the last couple of days. Once again, thanks to sensiblecat for all of her beta and Brit-pick work!
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Something was tickling his nose.
The Doctor brushed his left hand up, chasing whatever it was away, frustrated that it had disturbed his rest - one of the best sleeps he'd had in quite a number of days. The pesky whatever didn't cooperate, however, as the tickle in his nose returned immediately.
He took a deep breath, and that was when he realized that he was neither in his own bed nor alone. Slowly he opened his eyes to find a riot of red hair brushing across his face, a tendril of which had crept up and was responsible for the insistent tickle. He brought his hand up and carefully tamed the silky ginger pest, easing it off of his face entirely and back down with others of its ilk. A smile of wonder spread across his face.
She was here, in bed with him, in his arms, fast asleep, with her head nestled on his chest, her right arm tossed casually across his abdomen, and her right knee resting atop his right thigh. Her sleep was peaceful, and the movement of her eyes beneath closed eyelids told him that she was dreaming.
The sound of a lorry motor drew his eyes from Donna's face to take in the details of her guest room in the light of the very early morning, and his mind gradually reminded him of just how he had ended up where he was, and how he'd ended up with her in his bed. He must have been in quite a state for her to have come to him in the night; all he could remember were vague glimpses of nightmare and the sensation of her kissing him back for all she was worth. Had they…?
His right hand moved over her forearm gently, not intending to awaken her. No, the sensation of silk beneath his fingers told him she was still wearing her robe. They hadn't; but his memory of passionate kisses and caresses was slowly clearing, letting him know just how close he had come to making her his while still in the extremis of the nightmare she'd saved him from. He'd owe her a huge apology when she did wake up!
The Doctor considered moving slowly and steadily to escape the bed, but set aside the notion as unworkable. There was simply too much contact between them, and she was far too draped over him to be able to move very far without disturbing her rest. They'd have to rise soon enough anyway so they'd have enough time for him to stop off on the way to work at his flat to change clothing after a quick shower; he might as well enjoy the sensation of having her sleeping contentedly in his arms for as long as possible. This quiet moment before the day truly began was a priceless gift he didn't intend to squander.
That she had trusted him enough to allow herself the vulnerability of sleep in his arms after he'd bruised her wrist and then done his best to seduce her was beyond amazing. They so desperately needed to talk, he needed to talk to her and tell her how he felt. She needed to know that she'd become the center of his universe now, that he wanted nothing more than to hold her and love her and have her at his side for as long as they could have together. Now that he had slept with her, now that he'd experienced the peace of having her beside him and awakened with her safely at his side, it would be a trial to go back to sleeping alone.
It was Friday, his analytical mind reminded him. They had an entire weekend to figure some of these things out once they'd got through one more day's working. Dinner! He'd take her out to a nice place after work tonight, somewhere quiet where they could talk without being disturbed. He closed his eyes and allowed his fingers to trace intricate High Old Gallifreyan phrases designating her as his and his alone onto the silk on her shoulder. With a deep breath, he allowed himself to begin to doze again, wondering absently if she'd learned enough Gallifreyan yet to begin to understand what he'd written invisibly on her.
No matter. She would. One day. He'd see to it…
oOoOo
Donna's internal alarm clock went off, and she had barely begun a single stretch before freezing. She was laying… on… someone. That someone had their arm about her, holding her to them with a hand on her upper back, and she had thrown her arm across his abdomen in her sleep. That someone was also fast asleep and very lightly snoring… Her heart sank; had she gone out the night before - sought out comfort…
She opened her eyes and gazed around as much as she could without moving, and finally lifted her head very carefully so she could see the face of the man she was sleeping on. Oh. She was in her own guest room, and it was Ian that held her. She was using Ian's chest as a pillow, and her knee was… Mortified, she very carefully withdrew her lower extremity from where it had partially tangled with his, hoping not to rouse him as memories trickled in to fill in the gaps.
A deep breath beneath her ear, however, told her that she hadn't been quite careful enough. Blimey! Her memories of what had happened between them in the wee hours of the night were slowly clearing, making her wonder and dread what would he say…
"Morning." His voice was low and relaxed, and his hand on her back smoothed down the silk of her robe with gentle gesture.
"Morning," she replied and retrieved her arm from the way it stretched across his belly. "I'm sorry about that. I really should get up…"
"Wait! Donna, I owe you an apology…"
"Why? I'm the one who draped myself all over you in my sleep," she insisted, trying to slip out of his hold so she could sit up.
"Yes, but I'm the one who nearly seduced you last night," he insisted right back at her without letting go. "I would have if you hadn't stopped me. And then I had the nerve to ask you to stay with me through the night. Forgive me?"
At long last, she drew forth the courage to look him in the eye, and the combination of warmth and guilt and concern made her melt. He was feeling just as uncertain about this as she was! She stopped struggling to sit up or move away. "I told you last night that there's nothing you need to apologize for," she said gently, letting her right hand land on his chest over his heart as her head returned to its comfortable spot on his chest. "Also, I should point out that I could have said no and gone back to my own bed when you asked me to stay. I'm a big girl. No more guilt, Ian."
Ian immediately tightened his hold on her. "All right, if you insist - but only if you do the same. I'm actually rather honored that you'd trust me enough to fall asleep on me and… 'drape' yourself so comfortably. So no more guilt for you either, Donna."
Donna nodded her agreement. She could stop feeling guilty if he would. After all, it was hard to feel guilty about something that had felt so… right.
"But…" he continued, "I really want us to have our talk, and the sooner the better." She could hear the determination in his voice. "I was thinking about this earlier, before you woke up. I want to have dinner with you, so we can talk about all the things we've been putting off then." His fingers dragged her mussed hair back from her face. "So what do you think? Would you do me the honor of having dinner with me this evening, Miz Temple?"
The formality of his request, considering the setting, was enough to make Donna sniff with amusement and then hide her face against his chest until she could get control of herself. "I think I'd like that very much," she managed finally before pushing back against him again to look down into his face. "But we have an entire day of work to get through before that, you know."
"I know. There's only one problem with that: I'm perfectly comfortable where I'm at right now and am really not interested in moving," he told her quite unrepentantly, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear, trailing the finger softly along the line of her jaw. "If I could have my way, we'd have our talk right here, right now, and then see where that leads us."
"Ian…" She closed her eyes as his other hand drew a circle on her back, and then figures within it that made her suspect he was writing something in his language. "We have to go to work. They're expecting us, and Mr. Tyler was as worried about you as I was yesterday." Oh, being in bed with him like this was dangerous! His touch was so addictive, and he was right here. All he would have to do would be start kissing and caressing her again the way he had in the darkness of the previous night, and she'd not be able to resist him this time. If she were honest with herself, she'd admit that she really didn't want to move either. Still… "If we're going have time to stop by your flat so you can shower and change, we need to get up fairly soon."
"Ever the practical one, my Donna." At his tone and a gentle brush of her cheek by the backs of his fingers, she opened her eyes to see him looking at her with amusement. "But, you're right." His arm shifted from her back, giving her back her freedom. "We do need to get moving."
While one part of her was relieved that he was finally shifting about and sitting up, another part of her regretted the loss of the sense of intimacy that they had shared until then. But considering that she was the one who had insisted, she silently rolled to the opposite edge of the bed and then got to her feet.
"Go on. I'll do breakfast while you shower and get ready," he told her as he reached for his trousers, which were draped across the bar of the foot board on the bed. He was amazingly agile, and soon was standing to finish with the zip and button. "It's the least I can do."
Donna was amazed at the overwhelming sense of domesticity and implied intimacy in watching Ian get dressed so casually in front of her. "Thanks," she blurted and made for the bedroom door.
oOoOo
The sound of soft laughter trailed out into the hallway beyond the lift door, and Pete Tyler felt as if the load of worry he'd carried about had fallen suddenly away from his shoulders. Ian - the Doctor - not only was back, but was in good enough mood to be laughing at something. From the sounds of it, Donna Temple was laughing too, which truly bode well for the day.
"No, no," Ian's chuckle increased in volume. "If you don't want it to say that, then you have to remember that the elements are added and read in a counter-clockwise order. You want that one there, and then this one here."
"There's just so much to remember!" Donna's chuckle disintegrated into a mild complaint.
As he pushed through the Archive doors, he caught Ian straightening from bending over Donna's back, patting her shoulder as he moved to carry their tea mugs back over to the hot plate he'd insisted on having down there. Ian's complete attention was on his assistant and whatever task they'd been doing together. "You're doing better than I'd imagined any human could ever do, not that many have ever had the opportunity - much less the interest - to learn," he told her in a soothing voice. "There is a lot to remember compared to most written languages you're familiar with. But you're starting to get it a little bit."
It wasn't often that Pete got the drop on the canny duplicate Doctor, so he let his own chuckle loose and then asked, "Get what?"
Wide-eyed, Ian managed to stop pouring steaming water from a glass container into mugs bearing fresh tea bag labels dangling off the sides before he spilled anything. "I'm teaching her to read my chicken scratches," he replied in a deceptively casual tone and returned to his domestic errand. "It was her idea, but it will make things easier in the long run."
Donna's eyes were wide. "Mr. Tyler!"
He smiled at her as he approached. "I wanted to thank you for your call earlier this morning, letting me know that our wandering genius here had returned."
"No problem," she replied with a gentle smile as she turned to accept her mug from Ian. "You were worried yesterday; I could tell."
"Well, I'm glad things are going so well this morning," Pete began, working toward the reason he'd come down to the Archive himself rather than just have someone else deliver the message.
"Oh?" Ian's face lost its smile. "What's up? More trouble?" he asked tersely.
Pete saw the slightest flinch in Donna's face, and he could appreciate her dismay. Ian had gone from happy and chuckling to serious and wary in all too short a time. "Problems?" he repeated, deliberately pasting on a confused look. "No, nothing that has been brought to my attention. I'm just here with an invitation…" He glanced back and forth between Donna and Ian. "…for the both of you."
"An invitation? Me?" Donna squeaked and then looked to Ian for support.
Ian's stance and face had relaxed somewhat, but Pete could see the man was still wary. "Both of us? Invitation to what?" Between the Dalek and Rose, Ian's sense of stability in his world had evidently been seriously rattled.
Hopefully this invitation would help remedy that a bit. "Dinner on Saturday evening at Georgio's. The Board of Directors throws a dinner once a year." Pete ran his hand over his close-cut head nervously. "As a valued resource, and fully half the reason Torchwood is doing so well lately, you would naturally have been invited, Ian, but it was Jackie's idea to include your Mrs. Temple as well. Ever since you talked to her on Sunday, she's wanted a chance to get to meet your new… assistant. She insisted I make it plain that your Mrs. Temple was to attend as well."
"Pete…" Ian began, and Pete had to sympathize. Rose had told him stories about the rocky start of the relationship between her mother and the Doctor; obviously the events that had spawned those stories were very fresh in Ian's mind.
Still. It was important that both Ian and his Donna attend the get-together, and not just to satisfy Jackie - although it was just as well to let Ian focus on that reason and not any of the others. "Please, Ian. Be reasonable. You know my Jax, she's not going to give me or you any peace until she gets a chance to meet the lady who's caught your eye. And besides, most pretty ladies appreciate an opportunity to dress up, don't they?" He gave Donna a comforting smile and then turned back to Ian. "Why not give your assistant a fine evening with good food, good music, good company…"
Ian thought for a moment and then turned to Donna. "What do you think? Do you want to go?"
It was interesting to watch Donna Temple consider the invitation. Pete could see that she felt very out of place even being asked, and her eyes sought out Ian in a desperate plea to tell her what to do. "I…" She swallowed hard. "What do you think?"
Lo and behold, Ian's face softened. "We might as well go," he told her with a wry smile. "Pete's wife is a little protective of me, and I did tell her a little about you. But she's nice; she's good people, Donna. Besides, if we go, then we won't have to worry about her just showing up sometime later on when it might be a little less convenient." He glanced at Pete as if to assess his reaction.
Pete's brows rose. Oh really? What would they be up to that they wouldn't want Jax to… What was he thinking!? They had a perfect right to privacy, especially if they were now more than merely workmates.
Donna swallowed hard again and then turned a shy gaze in his direction. "I guess so…"
Ian, however, turned back to face him with a face gone once more hard and wary. "Just dinner, right?" Ian turned back to Mr. Tyler.
"Just dinner, I promise," Pete replied with a nod. "There will be music and dancing afterwards, but nothing says you have to hang around until we close down."
The wariness hadn't faded. "What about Rose?"
Pete sighed and then faced Ian directly, wishing Rose knew just how badly her behavior had clearly rattled the Doctor, and how that could negatively impact the man's productivity at work and general attitude. Then again, he couldn't honestly blame Ian for making certain that he wasn't walking into a potential firestorm named Rose Tyler with his innocent and unsuspecting new assistant at his side.
At least Rose had been cautioned ahead of time with this possibility very much in mind. No doubt the terms of her attendance had stung like salt in a wound when they followed closely the argument when her demands concerning the Dalek in the States had been denied bluntly. "She's been warned to be on her best behavior after she clashed with me last night trying to argue me into agreeing to her heading off to Utah. I let her know exactly what I expect of her on Saturday; and if she gives you any grief, I want you to tell me immediately." He turned a determined eye toward Donna. "That goes for you too. I won't have her mucking up the evening for anyone."
"Yes, sir!" She nodded quickly, looking distinctly insecure.
Pete smiled at her, hoping to demonstrate that he intended to protect her, but her gaze all too quickly reverted to Ian, who quietly reached out a calming hand to her in a gesture whose significance Pete was quick to recognize, as was the expression in Ian's eyes when the man turned back to him. "We will come," Ian stated formally. "What time do you want us there?"
"Half six is cocktails, dinner will start at seven; so anytime between half six and seven would be great." Ian's nod, along with Donna's, gave Pete a sense of real accomplishment. He'd be able to go home that night and reassure Jax that the Doctor and his new companion would be in attendance. And from the looks of things, he'd be well served by reiterating the warning to Rose. Ian was definitely prepared to defend his lady-friend, and that could make for a fairly ugly confrontation to happen in front of the Board.
Still, he'd got what he came for… "Great! In that case…" He looked down at the odd circles and curlicues that littered the papers on the desk. "Continue on with what you were doing."
He turned to look back through the glass doors of the Archive as he waited for the lift, and saw Ian carefully tuck a ginger string behind an ear, followed by Donna gifting him with an affectionate word that made Ian chuckle again. A quiet smile rose, as did the intention to keep an eye on his daughter during the Saturday gathering. Ian - the Doctor - was far too valuable to Torchwood for Rose to jeopardize things with jealousy or acrimony.
At least Jackie would be pleased.
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Something was tickling his nose.
The Doctor brushed his left hand up, chasing whatever it was away, frustrated that it had disturbed his rest - one of the best sleeps he'd had in quite a number of days. The pesky whatever didn't cooperate, however, as the tickle in his nose returned immediately.
He took a deep breath, and that was when he realized that he was neither in his own bed nor alone. Slowly he opened his eyes to find a riot of red hair brushing across his face, a tendril of which had crept up and was responsible for the insistent tickle. He brought his hand up and carefully tamed the silky ginger pest, easing it off of his face entirely and back down with others of its ilk. A smile of wonder spread across his face.
She was here, in bed with him, in his arms, fast asleep, with her head nestled on his chest, her right arm tossed casually across his abdomen, and her right knee resting atop his right thigh. Her sleep was peaceful, and the movement of her eyes beneath closed eyelids told him that she was dreaming.
The sound of a lorry motor drew his eyes from Donna's face to take in the details of her guest room in the light of the very early morning, and his mind gradually reminded him of just how he had ended up where he was, and how he'd ended up with her in his bed. He must have been in quite a state for her to have come to him in the night; all he could remember were vague glimpses of nightmare and the sensation of her kissing him back for all she was worth. Had they…?
His right hand moved over her forearm gently, not intending to awaken her. No, the sensation of silk beneath his fingers told him she was still wearing her robe. They hadn't; but his memory of passionate kisses and caresses was slowly clearing, letting him know just how close he had come to making her his while still in the extremis of the nightmare she'd saved him from. He'd owe her a huge apology when she did wake up!
The Doctor considered moving slowly and steadily to escape the bed, but set aside the notion as unworkable. There was simply too much contact between them, and she was far too draped over him to be able to move very far without disturbing her rest. They'd have to rise soon enough anyway so they'd have enough time for him to stop off on the way to work at his flat to change clothing after a quick shower; he might as well enjoy the sensation of having her sleeping contentedly in his arms for as long as possible. This quiet moment before the day truly began was a priceless gift he didn't intend to squander.
That she had trusted him enough to allow herself the vulnerability of sleep in his arms after he'd bruised her wrist and then done his best to seduce her was beyond amazing. They so desperately needed to talk, he needed to talk to her and tell her how he felt. She needed to know that she'd become the center of his universe now, that he wanted nothing more than to hold her and love her and have her at his side for as long as they could have together. Now that he had slept with her, now that he'd experienced the peace of having her beside him and awakened with her safely at his side, it would be a trial to go back to sleeping alone.
It was Friday, his analytical mind reminded him. They had an entire weekend to figure some of these things out once they'd got through one more day's working. Dinner! He'd take her out to a nice place after work tonight, somewhere quiet where they could talk without being disturbed. He closed his eyes and allowed his fingers to trace intricate High Old Gallifreyan phrases designating her as his and his alone onto the silk on her shoulder. With a deep breath, he allowed himself to begin to doze again, wondering absently if she'd learned enough Gallifreyan yet to begin to understand what he'd written invisibly on her.
No matter. She would. One day. He'd see to it…
oOoOo
Donna's internal alarm clock went off, and she had barely begun a single stretch before freezing. She was laying… on… someone. That someone had their arm about her, holding her to them with a hand on her upper back, and she had thrown her arm across his abdomen in her sleep. That someone was also fast asleep and very lightly snoring… Her heart sank; had she gone out the night before - sought out comfort…
She opened her eyes and gazed around as much as she could without moving, and finally lifted her head very carefully so she could see the face of the man she was sleeping on. Oh. She was in her own guest room, and it was Ian that held her. She was using Ian's chest as a pillow, and her knee was… Mortified, she very carefully withdrew her lower extremity from where it had partially tangled with his, hoping not to rouse him as memories trickled in to fill in the gaps.
A deep breath beneath her ear, however, told her that she hadn't been quite careful enough. Blimey! Her memories of what had happened between them in the wee hours of the night were slowly clearing, making her wonder and dread what would he say…
"Morning." His voice was low and relaxed, and his hand on her back smoothed down the silk of her robe with gentle gesture.
"Morning," she replied and retrieved her arm from the way it stretched across his belly. "I'm sorry about that. I really should get up…"
"Wait! Donna, I owe you an apology…"
"Why? I'm the one who draped myself all over you in my sleep," she insisted, trying to slip out of his hold so she could sit up.
"Yes, but I'm the one who nearly seduced you last night," he insisted right back at her without letting go. "I would have if you hadn't stopped me. And then I had the nerve to ask you to stay with me through the night. Forgive me?"
At long last, she drew forth the courage to look him in the eye, and the combination of warmth and guilt and concern made her melt. He was feeling just as uncertain about this as she was! She stopped struggling to sit up or move away. "I told you last night that there's nothing you need to apologize for," she said gently, letting her right hand land on his chest over his heart as her head returned to its comfortable spot on his chest. "Also, I should point out that I could have said no and gone back to my own bed when you asked me to stay. I'm a big girl. No more guilt, Ian."
Ian immediately tightened his hold on her. "All right, if you insist - but only if you do the same. I'm actually rather honored that you'd trust me enough to fall asleep on me and… 'drape' yourself so comfortably. So no more guilt for you either, Donna."
Donna nodded her agreement. She could stop feeling guilty if he would. After all, it was hard to feel guilty about something that had felt so… right.
"But…" he continued, "I really want us to have our talk, and the sooner the better." She could hear the determination in his voice. "I was thinking about this earlier, before you woke up. I want to have dinner with you, so we can talk about all the things we've been putting off then." His fingers dragged her mussed hair back from her face. "So what do you think? Would you do me the honor of having dinner with me this evening, Miz Temple?"
The formality of his request, considering the setting, was enough to make Donna sniff with amusement and then hide her face against his chest until she could get control of herself. "I think I'd like that very much," she managed finally before pushing back against him again to look down into his face. "But we have an entire day of work to get through before that, you know."
"I know. There's only one problem with that: I'm perfectly comfortable where I'm at right now and am really not interested in moving," he told her quite unrepentantly, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear, trailing the finger softly along the line of her jaw. "If I could have my way, we'd have our talk right here, right now, and then see where that leads us."
"Ian…" She closed her eyes as his other hand drew a circle on her back, and then figures within it that made her suspect he was writing something in his language. "We have to go to work. They're expecting us, and Mr. Tyler was as worried about you as I was yesterday." Oh, being in bed with him like this was dangerous! His touch was so addictive, and he was right here. All he would have to do would be start kissing and caressing her again the way he had in the darkness of the previous night, and she'd not be able to resist him this time. If she were honest with herself, she'd admit that she really didn't want to move either. Still… "If we're going have time to stop by your flat so you can shower and change, we need to get up fairly soon."
"Ever the practical one, my Donna." At his tone and a gentle brush of her cheek by the backs of his fingers, she opened her eyes to see him looking at her with amusement. "But, you're right." His arm shifted from her back, giving her back her freedom. "We do need to get moving."
While one part of her was relieved that he was finally shifting about and sitting up, another part of her regretted the loss of the sense of intimacy that they had shared until then. But considering that she was the one who had insisted, she silently rolled to the opposite edge of the bed and then got to her feet.
"Go on. I'll do breakfast while you shower and get ready," he told her as he reached for his trousers, which were draped across the bar of the foot board on the bed. He was amazingly agile, and soon was standing to finish with the zip and button. "It's the least I can do."
Donna was amazed at the overwhelming sense of domesticity and implied intimacy in watching Ian get dressed so casually in front of her. "Thanks," she blurted and made for the bedroom door.
oOoOo
The sound of soft laughter trailed out into the hallway beyond the lift door, and Pete Tyler felt as if the load of worry he'd carried about had fallen suddenly away from his shoulders. Ian - the Doctor - not only was back, but was in good enough mood to be laughing at something. From the sounds of it, Donna Temple was laughing too, which truly bode well for the day.
"No, no," Ian's chuckle increased in volume. "If you don't want it to say that, then you have to remember that the elements are added and read in a counter-clockwise order. You want that one there, and then this one here."
"There's just so much to remember!" Donna's chuckle disintegrated into a mild complaint.
As he pushed through the Archive doors, he caught Ian straightening from bending over Donna's back, patting her shoulder as he moved to carry their tea mugs back over to the hot plate he'd insisted on having down there. Ian's complete attention was on his assistant and whatever task they'd been doing together. "You're doing better than I'd imagined any human could ever do, not that many have ever had the opportunity - much less the interest - to learn," he told her in a soothing voice. "There is a lot to remember compared to most written languages you're familiar with. But you're starting to get it a little bit."
It wasn't often that Pete got the drop on the canny duplicate Doctor, so he let his own chuckle loose and then asked, "Get what?"
Wide-eyed, Ian managed to stop pouring steaming water from a glass container into mugs bearing fresh tea bag labels dangling off the sides before he spilled anything. "I'm teaching her to read my chicken scratches," he replied in a deceptively casual tone and returned to his domestic errand. "It was her idea, but it will make things easier in the long run."
Donna's eyes were wide. "Mr. Tyler!"
He smiled at her as he approached. "I wanted to thank you for your call earlier this morning, letting me know that our wandering genius here had returned."
"No problem," she replied with a gentle smile as she turned to accept her mug from Ian. "You were worried yesterday; I could tell."
"Well, I'm glad things are going so well this morning," Pete began, working toward the reason he'd come down to the Archive himself rather than just have someone else deliver the message.
"Oh?" Ian's face lost its smile. "What's up? More trouble?" he asked tersely.
Pete saw the slightest flinch in Donna's face, and he could appreciate her dismay. Ian had gone from happy and chuckling to serious and wary in all too short a time. "Problems?" he repeated, deliberately pasting on a confused look. "No, nothing that has been brought to my attention. I'm just here with an invitation…" He glanced back and forth between Donna and Ian. "…for the both of you."
"An invitation? Me?" Donna squeaked and then looked to Ian for support.
Ian's stance and face had relaxed somewhat, but Pete could see the man was still wary. "Both of us? Invitation to what?" Between the Dalek and Rose, Ian's sense of stability in his world had evidently been seriously rattled.
Hopefully this invitation would help remedy that a bit. "Dinner on Saturday evening at Georgio's. The Board of Directors throws a dinner once a year." Pete ran his hand over his close-cut head nervously. "As a valued resource, and fully half the reason Torchwood is doing so well lately, you would naturally have been invited, Ian, but it was Jackie's idea to include your Mrs. Temple as well. Ever since you talked to her on Sunday, she's wanted a chance to get to meet your new… assistant. She insisted I make it plain that your Mrs. Temple was to attend as well."
"Pete…" Ian began, and Pete had to sympathize. Rose had told him stories about the rocky start of the relationship between her mother and the Doctor; obviously the events that had spawned those stories were very fresh in Ian's mind.
Still. It was important that both Ian and his Donna attend the get-together, and not just to satisfy Jackie - although it was just as well to let Ian focus on that reason and not any of the others. "Please, Ian. Be reasonable. You know my Jax, she's not going to give me or you any peace until she gets a chance to meet the lady who's caught your eye. And besides, most pretty ladies appreciate an opportunity to dress up, don't they?" He gave Donna a comforting smile and then turned back to Ian. "Why not give your assistant a fine evening with good food, good music, good company…"
Ian thought for a moment and then turned to Donna. "What do you think? Do you want to go?"
It was interesting to watch Donna Temple consider the invitation. Pete could see that she felt very out of place even being asked, and her eyes sought out Ian in a desperate plea to tell her what to do. "I…" She swallowed hard. "What do you think?"
Lo and behold, Ian's face softened. "We might as well go," he told her with a wry smile. "Pete's wife is a little protective of me, and I did tell her a little about you. But she's nice; she's good people, Donna. Besides, if we go, then we won't have to worry about her just showing up sometime later on when it might be a little less convenient." He glanced at Pete as if to assess his reaction.
Pete's brows rose. Oh really? What would they be up to that they wouldn't want Jax to… What was he thinking!? They had a perfect right to privacy, especially if they were now more than merely workmates.
Donna swallowed hard again and then turned a shy gaze in his direction. "I guess so…"
Ian, however, turned back to face him with a face gone once more hard and wary. "Just dinner, right?" Ian turned back to Mr. Tyler.
"Just dinner, I promise," Pete replied with a nod. "There will be music and dancing afterwards, but nothing says you have to hang around until we close down."
The wariness hadn't faded. "What about Rose?"
Pete sighed and then faced Ian directly, wishing Rose knew just how badly her behavior had clearly rattled the Doctor, and how that could negatively impact the man's productivity at work and general attitude. Then again, he couldn't honestly blame Ian for making certain that he wasn't walking into a potential firestorm named Rose Tyler with his innocent and unsuspecting new assistant at his side.
At least Rose had been cautioned ahead of time with this possibility very much in mind. No doubt the terms of her attendance had stung like salt in a wound when they followed closely the argument when her demands concerning the Dalek in the States had been denied bluntly. "She's been warned to be on her best behavior after she clashed with me last night trying to argue me into agreeing to her heading off to Utah. I let her know exactly what I expect of her on Saturday; and if she gives you any grief, I want you to tell me immediately." He turned a determined eye toward Donna. "That goes for you too. I won't have her mucking up the evening for anyone."
"Yes, sir!" She nodded quickly, looking distinctly insecure.
Pete smiled at her, hoping to demonstrate that he intended to protect her, but her gaze all too quickly reverted to Ian, who quietly reached out a calming hand to her in a gesture whose significance Pete was quick to recognize, as was the expression in Ian's eyes when the man turned back to him. "We will come," Ian stated formally. "What time do you want us there?"
"Half six is cocktails, dinner will start at seven; so anytime between half six and seven would be great." Ian's nod, along with Donna's, gave Pete a sense of real accomplishment. He'd be able to go home that night and reassure Jax that the Doctor and his new companion would be in attendance. And from the looks of things, he'd be well served by reiterating the warning to Rose. Ian was definitely prepared to defend his lady-friend, and that could make for a fairly ugly confrontation to happen in front of the Board.
Still, he'd got what he came for… "Great! In that case…" He looked down at the odd circles and curlicues that littered the papers on the desk. "Continue on with what you were doing."
He turned to look back through the glass doors of the Archive as he waited for the lift, and saw Ian carefully tuck a ginger string behind an ear, followed by Donna gifting him with an affectionate word that made Ian chuckle again. A quiet smile rose, as did the intention to keep an eye on his daughter during the Saturday gathering. Ian - the Doctor - was far too valuable to Torchwood for Rose to jeopardize things with jealousy or acrimony.
At least Jackie would be pleased.