An Officer and the Noble Woman, Part 35.2
An Officer and the Noble Woman, Part 35.1
Author: dtstrainers
Paring: Donna Noble/Peter Carlisle
Co-Captain of this Ship: WhosInTheAttic, but all errors are mine alone.
First Mate: The lovely serenityslady has officially joined the crew. Thanks for the support and suggestions!
Rating: PG for Plot Galore and A for Angst
Word Count: 2,749
Disclaimer: Donna and Peter- not mine, but in my mind. I like my posts to be around the 5,000 word mark, so I consider this to be the second part of the previous post.
Part 1 | Part 5 | Part 10 | Part 15 | Part 20.1 | Part 25 | Part 30 | Part 35.1
Friday, June 22, 2012 3:10 PM
"It's him. It's definitely him," Peter Carlisle declared, poking a finger at the image on the computer before him. "And look at the spray artists. Look at what they're all doing.” Alec Turner leaned over the DI’s desk and inadvertently knocked over a photo stood next to the screen. He picked it up reflexively and looked at the monitor just in time to see a stocky, balding man in an ill-fitting suit on the CCTV footage, trying to separate a young man in a hoodie from a small knot of people with limited success. Every time he managed to put himself in front of one member of the group, the rest would skirt around the periphery of the camera range and reform around their own like a school of fish evading a predator.
"They know exactly where to stand to keep themselves from bein’ photographed and to put Tippett squarely on camera," Peter said with a knowing smirk. "It's payback for harrassin' them and threatenin' Bence. The tip we received about Tippett’s whereabouts must have come from one of the artists. They want him gone. He’s a thorn in their side, and they’ve come to the conclusion that the best way to be rid of him is to let us do the prunin'.” Alec nodded his agreement and turned his attention to the photo he still held.
"And look at the date and time stamp on the footage,” Peter continued excitedly. "Tippett's a creature of habit. Three days' worth of images and he’s there consistently at the same time. All we have to do now is-"
"We have all met Donna, you do remember?” Alec interrupted, one eyebrow raised in question as his eyes flicked from the picture in his hand to the small collection of photos on the Detective Inspector’s desk. “There’s no need to set up a gallery to prove her existence.”
Peter looked up, blinking owlishly in confusion. In the excitement of discovery, he’d quite forgotten to whom he was speaking. Alec gingerly placed the frame he held back with the half-dozen others on display, smiling despite himself at the change in the DI. His friend was becoming positively human, thanks to the influence of one Donna Noble. “Hold up,” he blurted out, pointing at an image of Peter grinning up at the camera, his arm around an obviously amused Donna who was rolling her eyes and batting fondly at Peter’s chest. "Was this one actually a selfie?”
“Well, there was nae anyone else about at the time,” Peter replied with a faintly defencive air as he laid the folder of still images Alec had brought him for comparison back on the desk and adjusted the angle of the frame sitting next to it.
“No, I like it,” Alec assured him, picking up another framed snapshot. “Besides, it’s always helpful to have photographic evidence of phenomena most people assume to be impossible,” he deadpanned, "like you knowing how to genuinely smile.” He looked up at Peter, expecting an embarrassed grin and was surprised at the serious, slightly melancholy expression the man wore instead.
“I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?” Alec asked as he carefully returned the picture he held to it’s original position.
“No,” Peter responded automatically, offering Alec a wry smile. He chewed his lip for the space of a moment before confessing, “They’re for insurance purposes. Just in case Donna … relapses.” He leaned back in his chair with a sigh and ran his hand through his hair, scratching at the back of his neck with a slight grimace. "She had a nightmare this last weekend and she's taken it into her head that she’ll forget again. I told her she should nae worry, but to make her feel secure, I’ve taken the precaution of documentin’ our relationship.”
“Logical,” Alec said quietly. “Did you discuss your plan with her?”
“Of course,” he replied. “I explained that pictures are a powerful way of reconnecting amnesia victims to their pasts.” He reached for the nearest frame on his desk and smiled at the picture of Donna smirking and waving a stolen chip at him from across the table at the Bulls Head. “And it’s given me an excuse to do what I should have been doin’ all along.” He cautiously looked back to Alec, frowning slightly. "I do nae believe Donna will forget again, but … it’s my way of protectin' what we're buildin' together.”
Peter’s mobile trilled suddenly in his pocket and he fished it out while replacing the picture. “Excuse me, it’s Donna,” he explained, glancing at the display before his eyes went wide and his left eyebrow shot up under his fringe. His mobile rang again and Peter swallowed hard as his right eyebrow rose to flirt with his hairline. Alec leaned back, the better to catch a glimpse of whatever was on the mobile screen that had surprised the DI just as it sounded off again.
“Bloody hell,” Peter muttered, gaping at the device in his hand as he lunged to his feet in alarm. "I've got to go." He snatched his coat from the back of his chair, throwing it on as he dashed from his office and down the hall, leaving a bemused Alec in his wake. He punched in a number on his mobile as he paced before the lift doors.
"Ian. I need backup," Alec heard Peter say into his mobile in a clipped, urgent voice as he trailed behind. Peter darted into the opening doors of the lift and impatiently stabbed at the button for the ground floor. He looked up and met Alec's questioning gaze just as the doors began to close. "Meet me as soon as you can at S&G's near the Met, off Victoria Street. It's Donna and it's an emergency."
**********
She felt it first in Men’s Wear, an overwhelming sense of wrongness that made her want to run away as far and as fast as possible, but Donna Noble had never been one to turn tail or back down from anything. She clutched the pale blue shirt she’d bought for Peter to her chest and fought the dizzying sense of nausea that washed over her. Turning slowly on the spot, she searched for whatever had sent her head spinning and her stomach churning. She could actually hear her heart pounding as her blood thudded through her veins and she forced herself not to retch in response. Just as she felt certain she was about to pass out where she stood, she found him. He was standing no more than 20 feet away, both hands thrust deeply in the pockets of his long overcoat, pretending to consider a lovely swirly tie that plainly did not suit him at all.
He knew the exact moment he'd been sussed. Donna continued to pivot in place as her eyes roved restlessly about, looking for all the world and the commission-hungry sales staff like any other shopper in search of that elusive, perfect item that would conclude her foray into the retail jungle and allow here to return home triumphant. Captain Jack Harkness wasn’t fooled for a moment.
For a tiny, almost insignificant sliver of a second, their eyes met and Jack saw Forever. Her face betrayed nothing as she focused on the display he was standing before and she smiled slightly, the triumphant expression of a huntress who had located her particularly evasive quarry. She strode directly towards him with grim determination and Jack was positive Donna Noble would have more than a few choice words expressly selected just for his discomfort when she did something that surprised him.
At the last possible second, Donna veered away and snatched a dark brown tie sporting a blue and light brown stylised peacock-eye design from the table before him, holding it up to the shirt in her hand with a bark of triumphant laughter. Jack breathed a sigh of relief when she bypassed him without so much as a second glance and marched directly to the Saturday Girl at the till. He stepped back and angled himself so that he could see her from the corner of his eye as he picked up a pair of deep maroon braces from the other side of the table. Glancing down, he surprised himself by seriously considering purchasing them. He risked a quick peep at Donna as she completed her transaction and he reluctantly placed the braces back on the table as she passed him and made her way across the store.
Jack ducked behind a rack of clothing to watch as she entered the Lingerie Department. Donna had been making a beeline towards a table laden with lacy knickers when she paused to run an appraising finger along the lace neckline of a gorgeous, midnight-blue silk nightdress. She bit her lip as she glanced between the lacy fitted bodice and down at her own chest before she lifted the garment from the rack and whipped out her mobile. Jack smiled as she snapped a photo of the bodice, then turned the gown around and took another picture of the plunging back and high side-slits. His smile turned into a grin as she punched in a number and sent the pictures off via text and he was positive she stood there awaiting the response of a certain Detective Inspector.
As she waited, Donna looked around and another, shorter gown caught her eye. She walked over to a mirror and held it up to her body. Then, she raised the flirty satin chemise up at arms-length and took another set of pictures. She smiled knowingly down at her mobile as she looked at the images and sent them off as well. Donna looked up, still browsing, and Jack saw her smile morph into a confident grin as she spied a daring black lace Basque. She turned it around and her smile deepened as she spun around in Jack’s direction and held the nearly-transparent garment up to the light, snapping yet another picture. Jack’s eyes widened in approval as he took in the ribbon tie fastening that decorated the back and he silently congratulated the DI as Donna picked up the matching stockings and tiny lace thong.
Donna looked down again at her mobile and dropped it into her pocket as she headed for the counter, plucking the first gown she’d admired from the rack on the way. She placed the garments on the counter, waiting for the clerk to finish with another customer when she abruptly turned back, obviously considering something before she headed directly for him. Jack quickly averted his gaze and studied the tags on a high-necked, floor-length flannel dressing gown decorated with huge, garish cabbage roses. He was forced to look up, however, when the toes of Donna’s pumps stomped into view.
"Who-The-HELL-Are-You?" Donna demanded with an emphatic sideways twitch of her head. “You’re followin' me and I want to know why,” Donna declared forcefully, crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes flashing dangerously. Jack swallowed and wondered if he was about to be on the receiving end of one the patented Donna Noble bitch-slaps Martha had told him so much about. When she seemed content to simply glare at him, Jack breathed a bit easier and slipped effortlessly into damage-control mode.
"You're mistaken," he said smoothly, gesturing at the rack of clothing before him. "I'm just looking for-“
"What? A nightie for your sainted gran?" Donna retorted tartly, and Jack found himself watching her hands closely as she waved them about under his nose. “Liar,” she spat, "I asked you a question." Donna cocked her hip and rested one lethal hand on it while the other dipped into her pocket.
Jack took a precautionary step back, his hands raised in surrender. "Ok, you got me," he drawled, giving her his best bad-boy grin. "I have a thing for gingers and I noticed you're not wearing a ring, so I thought-"
"Don't try that with me, Pretty Boy," she warned, tossing her hair back, her lips pursed and her chin jutting out towards him. "I wasn't born yesterday, you know. So to speak." She paused a moment, processing what she'd just said and Jack fought hard to keep his suitably-cowed expression firmly in place. "Oh, you know what I mean,” she finally hissed in exasperation. She pursued him as he stepped back, in a vain attempt to escape her wrath. "Anyway," she continued, barely pausing for breath, "I'm sure I'm not your type.”
“A gorgeous, fiery woman like you?” Jack countered with a disarming smile. “A man would have to be blind and stupid to not find you attractive."
Donna crossed her arms again and shifted her weight back, narrowing her eyes as she glared angrily at him. “Oi! Pull the other one, Flyboy,” she snapped. "And for your information, I took your picture and texted it to the police.” Which technically was true, she reflected internally, since she'd sent it to Peter. She pulled her mobile out with a flourish and turned it towards him. Clearly visible next to the short nightie she’d held aloft to photograph, Jack saw himself in the background, reflected in the mirror. She flicked to the next picture in triumph and Jack was chagrined to see himself clearly admiring the scrap of black lace her DI would have to be dead not to appreciate. “They’re on their way right now,” she said, replacing her mobile in her pocket and crossing her arms across her chest again.
“Their involvement won’t be necessary,” Jack assured her solemnly, with a slight bow, starting to back away from her slowly. “And I'm sorry to have bothered you, Miss…?"
"Mrs. Carlisle," she lied smoothly and, Jack noted, without hesitation.
“Mrs. Carlisle,” he repeated, smiling again in spite of himself as he turned to leave in a swirl of coat tails. He got exactly two steps away when her words stopped him dead in his tracks.
"Hold on. Do I know you?” she breathed and Jack knew it wasn't a question. He made himself start walking again. “I know you,” Donna declared forcefully, pursuing him across the shop floor. “Why do I know you?” she demanded as she grabbed him by the arm and swung around before him to search his face.
“No. No, you don’t,” Jack assured her, pulling away against his will. "I’ve just got one of those faces," he replied sadly.
"You got that right, Jack,” she quipped with a wry snort of laughter and suddenly, her eyes widened and her face went oddly slack. Donna slipped out of time to another place and was surrounded by cold, metallic screams. Flames licked at the periphery of her vision and she felt a series of small but terrifying explosions. Amid voices raised in alarm, she clearly heard someone scream her name and she blinked rapidly in confusion. Jack blanched as a faint, golden glow surrounded Donna and she stumbled. She whipped her head around and saw his face, superimposed over a ghostly image of the same man standing beside her in a strange, gold-green room with a bemused smile on his face.
Donna's mobile phone began to ring in her pocket just as her legs gave way beneath her. The man in the long blue coat lunged forward instinctively and caught her in his arms, lowering her down gently as she tumbled towards the floor, shaking and slipping away into the past. He put his hand to her forehead and drew back in alarm when he found it to be warm, far too warm.
Donna looked back up at him then and frowned. Faint recognition shimmered in her eyes: it fluttered behind her eyelids as gossamer wisps of memory struggled to break free. The man reached up and brushed her hair back away from her face. "Stay with me," he murmured frantically, checking her pulse. He clutched her tightly to his chest, then pulled back to see her face. "I'll get you some help," he whispered.
"Well, isn't that just wizard?" Donna groused as she swatted the familiar stranger on the arm. "Now you want to hug me.” As her eyes rolled back in her head, she heard someone sob, long ago and far away, before the darkness washed over her, dragging her down and claiming her for its own.
Part 1 | Part 5 | Part 10 | Part 15 | Part 20.1 | Part 25 | Part 30 | Part 35.1
Author: dtstrainers
Paring: Donna Noble/Peter Carlisle
Co-Captain of this Ship: WhosInTheAttic, but all errors are mine alone.
First Mate: The lovely serenityslady has officially joined the crew. Thanks for the support and suggestions!
Rating: PG for Plot Galore and A for Angst
Word Count: 2,749
Disclaimer: Donna and Peter- not mine, but in my mind. I like my posts to be around the 5,000 word mark, so I consider this to be the second part of the previous post.
Part 1 | Part 5 | Part 10 | Part 15 | Part 20.1 | Part 25 | Part 30 | Part 35.1
Friday, June 22, 2012 3:10 PM
"It's him. It's definitely him," Peter Carlisle declared, poking a finger at the image on the computer before him. "And look at the spray artists. Look at what they're all doing.” Alec Turner leaned over the DI’s desk and inadvertently knocked over a photo stood next to the screen. He picked it up reflexively and looked at the monitor just in time to see a stocky, balding man in an ill-fitting suit on the CCTV footage, trying to separate a young man in a hoodie from a small knot of people with limited success. Every time he managed to put himself in front of one member of the group, the rest would skirt around the periphery of the camera range and reform around their own like a school of fish evading a predator.
"They know exactly where to stand to keep themselves from bein’ photographed and to put Tippett squarely on camera," Peter said with a knowing smirk. "It's payback for harrassin' them and threatenin' Bence. The tip we received about Tippett’s whereabouts must have come from one of the artists. They want him gone. He’s a thorn in their side, and they’ve come to the conclusion that the best way to be rid of him is to let us do the prunin'.” Alec nodded his agreement and turned his attention to the photo he still held.
"And look at the date and time stamp on the footage,” Peter continued excitedly. "Tippett's a creature of habit. Three days' worth of images and he’s there consistently at the same time. All we have to do now is-"
"We have all met Donna, you do remember?” Alec interrupted, one eyebrow raised in question as his eyes flicked from the picture in his hand to the small collection of photos on the Detective Inspector’s desk. “There’s no need to set up a gallery to prove her existence.”
Peter looked up, blinking owlishly in confusion. In the excitement of discovery, he’d quite forgotten to whom he was speaking. Alec gingerly placed the frame he held back with the half-dozen others on display, smiling despite himself at the change in the DI. His friend was becoming positively human, thanks to the influence of one Donna Noble. “Hold up,” he blurted out, pointing at an image of Peter grinning up at the camera, his arm around an obviously amused Donna who was rolling her eyes and batting fondly at Peter’s chest. "Was this one actually a selfie?”
“Well, there was nae anyone else about at the time,” Peter replied with a faintly defencive air as he laid the folder of still images Alec had brought him for comparison back on the desk and adjusted the angle of the frame sitting next to it.
“No, I like it,” Alec assured him, picking up another framed snapshot. “Besides, it’s always helpful to have photographic evidence of phenomena most people assume to be impossible,” he deadpanned, "like you knowing how to genuinely smile.” He looked up at Peter, expecting an embarrassed grin and was surprised at the serious, slightly melancholy expression the man wore instead.
“I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?” Alec asked as he carefully returned the picture he held to it’s original position.
“No,” Peter responded automatically, offering Alec a wry smile. He chewed his lip for the space of a moment before confessing, “They’re for insurance purposes. Just in case Donna … relapses.” He leaned back in his chair with a sigh and ran his hand through his hair, scratching at the back of his neck with a slight grimace. "She had a nightmare this last weekend and she's taken it into her head that she’ll forget again. I told her she should nae worry, but to make her feel secure, I’ve taken the precaution of documentin’ our relationship.”
“Logical,” Alec said quietly. “Did you discuss your plan with her?”
“Of course,” he replied. “I explained that pictures are a powerful way of reconnecting amnesia victims to their pasts.” He reached for the nearest frame on his desk and smiled at the picture of Donna smirking and waving a stolen chip at him from across the table at the Bulls Head. “And it’s given me an excuse to do what I should have been doin’ all along.” He cautiously looked back to Alec, frowning slightly. "I do nae believe Donna will forget again, but … it’s my way of protectin' what we're buildin' together.”
Peter’s mobile trilled suddenly in his pocket and he fished it out while replacing the picture. “Excuse me, it’s Donna,” he explained, glancing at the display before his eyes went wide and his left eyebrow shot up under his fringe. His mobile rang again and Peter swallowed hard as his right eyebrow rose to flirt with his hairline. Alec leaned back, the better to catch a glimpse of whatever was on the mobile screen that had surprised the DI just as it sounded off again.
“Bloody hell,” Peter muttered, gaping at the device in his hand as he lunged to his feet in alarm. "I've got to go." He snatched his coat from the back of his chair, throwing it on as he dashed from his office and down the hall, leaving a bemused Alec in his wake. He punched in a number on his mobile as he paced before the lift doors.
"Ian. I need backup," Alec heard Peter say into his mobile in a clipped, urgent voice as he trailed behind. Peter darted into the opening doors of the lift and impatiently stabbed at the button for the ground floor. He looked up and met Alec's questioning gaze just as the doors began to close. "Meet me as soon as you can at S&G's near the Met, off Victoria Street. It's Donna and it's an emergency."
**********
She felt it first in Men’s Wear, an overwhelming sense of wrongness that made her want to run away as far and as fast as possible, but Donna Noble had never been one to turn tail or back down from anything. She clutched the pale blue shirt she’d bought for Peter to her chest and fought the dizzying sense of nausea that washed over her. Turning slowly on the spot, she searched for whatever had sent her head spinning and her stomach churning. She could actually hear her heart pounding as her blood thudded through her veins and she forced herself not to retch in response. Just as she felt certain she was about to pass out where she stood, she found him. He was standing no more than 20 feet away, both hands thrust deeply in the pockets of his long overcoat, pretending to consider a lovely swirly tie that plainly did not suit him at all.
He knew the exact moment he'd been sussed. Donna continued to pivot in place as her eyes roved restlessly about, looking for all the world and the commission-hungry sales staff like any other shopper in search of that elusive, perfect item that would conclude her foray into the retail jungle and allow here to return home triumphant. Captain Jack Harkness wasn’t fooled for a moment.
For a tiny, almost insignificant sliver of a second, their eyes met and Jack saw Forever. Her face betrayed nothing as she focused on the display he was standing before and she smiled slightly, the triumphant expression of a huntress who had located her particularly evasive quarry. She strode directly towards him with grim determination and Jack was positive Donna Noble would have more than a few choice words expressly selected just for his discomfort when she did something that surprised him.
At the last possible second, Donna veered away and snatched a dark brown tie sporting a blue and light brown stylised peacock-eye design from the table before him, holding it up to the shirt in her hand with a bark of triumphant laughter. Jack breathed a sigh of relief when she bypassed him without so much as a second glance and marched directly to the Saturday Girl at the till. He stepped back and angled himself so that he could see her from the corner of his eye as he picked up a pair of deep maroon braces from the other side of the table. Glancing down, he surprised himself by seriously considering purchasing them. He risked a quick peep at Donna as she completed her transaction and he reluctantly placed the braces back on the table as she passed him and made her way across the store.
Jack ducked behind a rack of clothing to watch as she entered the Lingerie Department. Donna had been making a beeline towards a table laden with lacy knickers when she paused to run an appraising finger along the lace neckline of a gorgeous, midnight-blue silk nightdress. She bit her lip as she glanced between the lacy fitted bodice and down at her own chest before she lifted the garment from the rack and whipped out her mobile. Jack smiled as she snapped a photo of the bodice, then turned the gown around and took another picture of the plunging back and high side-slits. His smile turned into a grin as she punched in a number and sent the pictures off via text and he was positive she stood there awaiting the response of a certain Detective Inspector.
As she waited, Donna looked around and another, shorter gown caught her eye. She walked over to a mirror and held it up to her body. Then, she raised the flirty satin chemise up at arms-length and took another set of pictures. She smiled knowingly down at her mobile as she looked at the images and sent them off as well. Donna looked up, still browsing, and Jack saw her smile morph into a confident grin as she spied a daring black lace Basque. She turned it around and her smile deepened as she spun around in Jack’s direction and held the nearly-transparent garment up to the light, snapping yet another picture. Jack’s eyes widened in approval as he took in the ribbon tie fastening that decorated the back and he silently congratulated the DI as Donna picked up the matching stockings and tiny lace thong.
Donna looked down again at her mobile and dropped it into her pocket as she headed for the counter, plucking the first gown she’d admired from the rack on the way. She placed the garments on the counter, waiting for the clerk to finish with another customer when she abruptly turned back, obviously considering something before she headed directly for him. Jack quickly averted his gaze and studied the tags on a high-necked, floor-length flannel dressing gown decorated with huge, garish cabbage roses. He was forced to look up, however, when the toes of Donna’s pumps stomped into view.
"Who-The-HELL-Are-You?" Donna demanded with an emphatic sideways twitch of her head. “You’re followin' me and I want to know why,” Donna declared forcefully, crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes flashing dangerously. Jack swallowed and wondered if he was about to be on the receiving end of one the patented Donna Noble bitch-slaps Martha had told him so much about. When she seemed content to simply glare at him, Jack breathed a bit easier and slipped effortlessly into damage-control mode.
"You're mistaken," he said smoothly, gesturing at the rack of clothing before him. "I'm just looking for-“
"What? A nightie for your sainted gran?" Donna retorted tartly, and Jack found himself watching her hands closely as she waved them about under his nose. “Liar,” she spat, "I asked you a question." Donna cocked her hip and rested one lethal hand on it while the other dipped into her pocket.
Jack took a precautionary step back, his hands raised in surrender. "Ok, you got me," he drawled, giving her his best bad-boy grin. "I have a thing for gingers and I noticed you're not wearing a ring, so I thought-"
"Don't try that with me, Pretty Boy," she warned, tossing her hair back, her lips pursed and her chin jutting out towards him. "I wasn't born yesterday, you know. So to speak." She paused a moment, processing what she'd just said and Jack fought hard to keep his suitably-cowed expression firmly in place. "Oh, you know what I mean,” she finally hissed in exasperation. She pursued him as he stepped back, in a vain attempt to escape her wrath. "Anyway," she continued, barely pausing for breath, "I'm sure I'm not your type.”
“A gorgeous, fiery woman like you?” Jack countered with a disarming smile. “A man would have to be blind and stupid to not find you attractive."
Donna crossed her arms again and shifted her weight back, narrowing her eyes as she glared angrily at him. “Oi! Pull the other one, Flyboy,” she snapped. "And for your information, I took your picture and texted it to the police.” Which technically was true, she reflected internally, since she'd sent it to Peter. She pulled her mobile out with a flourish and turned it towards him. Clearly visible next to the short nightie she’d held aloft to photograph, Jack saw himself in the background, reflected in the mirror. She flicked to the next picture in triumph and Jack was chagrined to see himself clearly admiring the scrap of black lace her DI would have to be dead not to appreciate. “They’re on their way right now,” she said, replacing her mobile in her pocket and crossing her arms across her chest again.
“Their involvement won’t be necessary,” Jack assured her solemnly, with a slight bow, starting to back away from her slowly. “And I'm sorry to have bothered you, Miss…?"
"Mrs. Carlisle," she lied smoothly and, Jack noted, without hesitation.
“Mrs. Carlisle,” he repeated, smiling again in spite of himself as he turned to leave in a swirl of coat tails. He got exactly two steps away when her words stopped him dead in his tracks.
"Hold on. Do I know you?” she breathed and Jack knew it wasn't a question. He made himself start walking again. “I know you,” Donna declared forcefully, pursuing him across the shop floor. “Why do I know you?” she demanded as she grabbed him by the arm and swung around before him to search his face.
“No. No, you don’t,” Jack assured her, pulling away against his will. "I’ve just got one of those faces," he replied sadly.
"You got that right, Jack,” she quipped with a wry snort of laughter and suddenly, her eyes widened and her face went oddly slack. Donna slipped out of time to another place and was surrounded by cold, metallic screams. Flames licked at the periphery of her vision and she felt a series of small but terrifying explosions. Amid voices raised in alarm, she clearly heard someone scream her name and she blinked rapidly in confusion. Jack blanched as a faint, golden glow surrounded Donna and she stumbled. She whipped her head around and saw his face, superimposed over a ghostly image of the same man standing beside her in a strange, gold-green room with a bemused smile on his face.
Donna's mobile phone began to ring in her pocket just as her legs gave way beneath her. The man in the long blue coat lunged forward instinctively and caught her in his arms, lowering her down gently as she tumbled towards the floor, shaking and slipping away into the past. He put his hand to her forehead and drew back in alarm when he found it to be warm, far too warm.
Donna looked back up at him then and frowned. Faint recognition shimmered in her eyes: it fluttered behind her eyelids as gossamer wisps of memory struggled to break free. The man reached up and brushed her hair back away from her face. "Stay with me," he murmured frantically, checking her pulse. He clutched her tightly to his chest, then pulled back to see her face. "I'll get you some help," he whispered.
"Well, isn't that just wizard?" Donna groused as she swatted the familiar stranger on the arm. "Now you want to hug me.” As her eyes rolled back in her head, she heard someone sob, long ago and far away, before the darkness washed over her, dragging her down and claiming her for its own.
Part 1 | Part 5 | Part 10 | Part 15 | Part 20.1 | Part 25 | Part 30 | Part 35.1