Something New (3/4)
Title: Something New
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairing: Ten/Donna
Summary: Follows on from When I Was Six, set after some length of time has elapsed. So you know in advance, this part's a long one!
Part 1
Part 2
Donna rang the doorbell and stepped back, chewing her lip. The Doctor squeezed her hand.
The door opened.
“Hi Mum.”
“Donna?” said Sylvia, looking surprised. “You didn’t call to say you were coming.” Her eyes slid briefly down to the Doctor's and Donna's entwined hands.
“Hello,” said the Doctor with a grin, waving his free hand. Sylvia made a sound, which Donna supposed could have been some sort of greeting. Or not.
“Well, hurry up and come in, both of you. It's freezing out here. I just put the kettle on, I'll make us some tea. Though - there isn't some alien invasion going on, is there?” She peered out warily. “What with him being here.”
“Decaf please. And nope, no alien invasion,” said Donna, leading the Doctor into the lounge and plumping herself down on the couch.
Sylvia disappeared. Donna swivelled towards the Doctor.
“Oh god, oh god. How am I going to tell her?”
He rubbed her hand. “Want me to?”
“She’ll kill you anyway. I’m just thinking of the baby.”
He gulped.
“So,” said Sylvia, returning with teapot and mugs. She eyed Donna’s slightly rounded figure before sitting down and starting to pour out. “Anything you wanted to tell me?”
The Doctor wondered if he was imagining the twinkle in her eye.
“Er,” said Donna. “Well, yes, there is something.” She stopped.
Sylvia took up a mug and blew on the hot liquid. “Go on.”
“The thing is,” said Donna nervously, “I’m pregnant.”
Not a muscle twitched in Sylvia’s face. “I see.” She took a sip of tea. “I suppose, judging by his idiotic grin, that alien of yours is the father.”
The Doctor tried to stop grinning idiotically.
“Yeah,” said Donna, gripping his hand tighter. “He is.”
“Is this baby something you were planning, or …”
“Well, we wanted to,” broke in the Doctor, looking nervously from Donna to Sylvia. “We sort of didn’t think we could, though.”
“What with you being an alien,” put in Sylvia helpfully.
“Erm, yeah. That. But it turns out we can. And we are.”
“Well then - congratulations,” said Sylvia, setting down her mug.
Both Donna and the Doctor gaped.
“Seriously?” said Donna finally. “Congratulations? You’re not, well, a little bit annoyed? Or mad?”
“Well, even though he is an alien … to be honest, after that whole fiasco with Lance, I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever get married at all, let alone start on grandchildren.”
“Married?” repeated the Doctor in a too-high voice.
Donna shot him an amused look. “I never said anything about getting married, you plum.”
“No, I suppose that would be too much to hope for,” said Sylvia with a sigh.
“What with him being an alien,” said Donna cheekily.
“Exactly,” agreed Sylvia, sniffing. “So - this baby of yours, madam.”
“Yeah?” said Donna, feeling no more than fourteen under her mother’s scrutinising gaze.
“Do you know yet if it's a girl or boy?”
“It’s a girl.”
Sylvia’s face twitched a little, as though she was coming around to the idea.
“Well, that’s sweet. I still have some of your old baby clothes, Donna - we'll go through them and pick out what you need. Although … will they fit it? Is it an alien too?”
“It hasn’t got suckers or tentacles, if that’s what you mean.”
“But it’s like him,” pressed Sylvia.
“Like both of us,” corrected the Doctor. “A bit of a mix. The clothes will fit just fine - it's very nice of you, Mrs Noble.”
“No trouble, that’s what I kept them for. Call me Sylvia. Tell me, is the baby at least healthy?”
“Completely.”
“Good. And is he looking after you properly too, Donna?”
“Yep,” said Donna with a grin, leaning unconsciously against the Doctor as his arm lifted equally unconsciously to drape around her shoulders.
Sylvia picked up her mug and took another sip of tea, watching the Doctor and Donna beam at each other. Though she didn’t let on, it was nice to see her daughter so happy, and obviously in love.
And as for him … he’d probably make an okay father.
For an alien.
* * *
“Donna, you had shoes like mine!” said the Doctor gleefully, holding up a tiny pair of blue sneakers. “Oh, we definitely have to take these. Can we get you a pair too? Then all three of us can match.”
“We'll see, Spaceman. I can’t believe you kept all these clothes, Mum. Actually, what I can't believe is that I ever fit into them.”
“Children grow so fast,” said Sylvia with a sigh, looking wistfully at Donna.
The Doctor was pawing through another box. “Donna?” he said, his voice suddenly strangled. “Look.”
He held up a small pair of corduroy trousers and a striped t-shirt.
Donna's hand flew to her mouth. “Oh! It’s what I was wearing that day when we ran into my younger self! All right, now I can believe I once fit into these.”
“Isn't it great?” said the Doctor, his grin stretching practically ear to ear. “Now our daughter can wear them too! I can just picture it, another little Donna ...”
“What day?” broke in Sylvia sharply. “What little Donna? What are you talking about? Really, I don't understand half the things you two say.”
Donna eyed the Doctor. He grimaced. She took a deep breath.
“Mum, you know how me and the Doctor do a lot of travelling in his space ship?”
“Yes?”
“I might have slightly forgotten to mention, um, that it’s also a time machine.”
Sylvia went on folding clothes.
“Yes, you did forget.”
Donna and the Doctor exchanged bemused looks.
“Mum, did you even hear what I said?”
“I heard you perfectly well, missy, I’m not going deaf.”
“It’s just - you’re taking it well. Very well.”
Sylvia gave Donna an exasperated look. “Donna, quite frankly, when it comes to you and this Doctor, nothing surprises me any more.” She got up. “Show me it.”
“What?” said the Doctor in disbelief.
“Show me this space ship, time machine, whatever it is. I want to see that it’s suitable for a baby.”
* * *
“Here it is,” said Donna, leading her mother into the back garden.
“A police box!” exclaimed Sylvia. “I remember these. You don’t see them around a lot these days.”
Donna unlocked the TARDIS.
“Mum, I should warn you before you go in. It looks normal from the outside, but it’s a sort of camouflage - it's much, much bigger on the inside. So don’t freak out.”
She opened the door and stepped in, followed by her mother. The Doctor brought up the rear, eyeing Sylvia nervously.
“Hmm,” said Sylvia, not batting an eyelid. “I see what you mean. Quite roomy.” She looked around. “I suppose you’ll be putting down mats in here, young man?” she commented, turning to the Doctor.
He didn't see any point in correcting her about his age; he felt quite small being interrogated by her, anyway.
“Mats? What for?”
“So the baby doesn’t break its arms in these holes when it's crawling around on the grating!”
“Oh!” said the Doctor, twiddling at his ear. “Actually, hadn’t thought of that.”
“I don’t suppose you had,” agreed Sylvia. “You may be an alien, but I suppose men are all the same when it comes to practicalities.”
She swept on, the Doctor scrunching up his face.
“Now, Donna, come and show me your room. You’ll need to sterilise it for when you give birth. I don't think it's a good idea for you to go to a hospital - just how different is this baby, exactly?”
“It’s got three hearts,” said the Doctor, trying to be helpful. Donna made a wild shushing gesture at him.
“Oh it does, does it?” said Sylvia, glaring at him. “That’s it. Donna, as soon as you go into labour, I want you to call me. Goodness knows I’ve helped deliver enough babies in my time. Even once in a car. I had you at home too, you know.”
“Thanks Mum,” said Donna, her eyes tearing up as she threw her arms around Sylvia. The Doctor looked terrified. Sylvia smoothed back Donna’s hair.
“Here’s a tissue, sweetheart,” she said, reaching around and pulling one from her sleeve like a conjurer.
“Thaaaahnk yoooou,” sobbed Donna.
“Hormones,” explained Sylvia to the Doctor as Donna shook into her shoulder. “There, there, love, you just cry all you like. If she’s anything like when I was pregnant with her, she’ll be at it all the time, so’s you know.”
“Right,” said the Doctor, wide-eyed and gulping.
It was some time later when they finally made their way into the kitchen, Donna feeling weepy again and in need of chocolate biscuits. Sylvia had insisted on seeing over the entire TARDIS, ferreting out rooms that Donna had never seen, and even one that the Doctor had never seen. Donna was finding it quite surreal to see her mother sitting at the kitchen table, which might have accounted for some of the weepiness.
Sylvia turned to the Doctor. “Is it safe for Donna to be flying in this - this thing when she gets to her third trimester?”
“It’s not a plane, Mum,” said Donna, managing to mop her eyes and roll them at the same time. She bit into her fifth biscuit. “It’s fine.”
“Well, we’re not making any intergalactic trips,” cut in the Doctor, leaning against the counter.
“Why not?” asked Donna in surprise, taking three more biscuits.
“Too bumpy,” he said. “Need to be careful of the baby.”
“Well, I’m glad one of you is being sensible,” said Sylvia approvingly. “Donna, put down those biscuits, you’ve had enough. Make sure she eats properly, Doctor.”
Donna pouted through a mouthful. The Doctor raised his eyebrows humorously at her.
“Short trips are all right, though,” he said after a pause. “In fact, would you like to take a trip? That way you can see it’s perfectly all right.”
Sylvia looked flustered. “Me? I don’t know about that.”
“We do it all the time, Mum,” said Donna encouragingly. “It really is safe.”
“Well, maybe just one short trip.”
“Space or time?” said the Doctor, leading the way back to the console room.
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Sylvia doubtfully. “Can you really go back in time?”
“And forwards,” he said, sticking his hands in his pockets and grinning. “Far as you like.”
Sylvia threw her hands in the air. “Choose for me. I can’t think of anywhere when you just throw it at me like that!”
The Doctor thought for a moment, his memory suddenly focusing on a part of Sylvia’s lounge room.
“I think I know just the place.”
“Sit down, Donna,” said Sylvia, patting the jump seat beside her. Donna did, meekly. “Where’s our seatbelts?” she continued, looking around.
“Er,” said the Doctor. “There aren't any ...”
Sylvia glared at him.
“They’re on order,” he added quickly.
* * *
Sylvia looked around the tea room. “Do we have to behave any particular way?”
“Just act normally, Mum, no one even notices.”
“Well I don’t know, do I? You have to tell me these things. I’ve never travelled in time before.”
The Doctor leaned back in his chair as they took in the sights of Regency England around them. He grinned at Donna and Sylvia in their matching Regency bonnets, Sylvia having insisted on “blending in”.
“Shouldn't we be getting back soon?” asked Sylvia, checking her watch. “I have to put your grandfather’s dinner on.”
“It’s a time machine, Mum,” said Donna impatiently. “We can take you back whenever. Just enjoy it!”
“Fascinating to see it all,” admitted Sylvia. “Just fascinating. I can hardly believe it’s real, it looks like a movie set. I’ve always loved reading Austen, of course.”
“What do you want to eat?” the Doctor asked Donna, who was hungrily perusing the offerings.
“Chocolate,” she said instantly. “Anything chocolate.”
“Chocolate, my foot. She'll have fruit cake,” said Sylvia in no-nonsense tones to the attendant, twitching the menu board out of Donna's hands. The Doctor hid a smile.
Their orders arrived. Sylvia took up her cake fork and scooped into her slice.
“This is delicious,” she pronounced through a mouthful. She swallowed. “Do you think we can ask for the recipe?”
* * *
The TARDIS doors opened and Sylvia stepped out into the garden in Chiswick.
“Well, thank you for a most wonderful afternoon, Doctor.”
“Any time,” he replied with a grin, leaning against the doorway.
“Don't say that,” muttered Donna, elbowing him.
Sylvia looked thoughtfully at her daughter. “I think I see now why you like travelling so much, Donna. Pop in some time soon when your grandfather’s not out. I suppose you’ll want to tell him about the baby yourself?”
Donna nodded. Sylvia drew her into a warm hug before releasing her and turning to the Doctor.
“Take good care of my girl, Doctor.”
“Better care than I take of myself,” he promised seriously, following that with “Oof” as Sylvia wrapped him in a characteristically Noble hug. He hoped it meant that he was beginning to meet with her approval.
“And your space ship isn’t too bad, I suppose,” she said as she let him go.
“For an alien,” chorused Donna and the Doctor together. Sylvia chuckled self-consciously, smacking the Doctor lightly on the arm.
“You're a bad influence on him, Donna.”
Donna grinned and snuck under his other arm. “Bye Mum. See you soon.”
They watched Sylvia leave. A little way down the garden she turned and waved. They smiled and waved back before retreating into the TARDIS. The Doctor shut the door.
“Do you think she doesn’t hate me as much any more?”
“Doctor, you really can be remarkably thick. What you just witnessed was my mother doing a complete one hundred and eighty degree turn. You just took her for afternoon tea in the bloody Regency. I think she likes you better than me now!”
“Really?” he said uncertainly. “But mums never like me.”
“Well,” said Donna, smiling at him. “Knowing her, you plonker, I'm pretty sure mine does.”
He turned away and rubbed his nose a bit.
Donna touched his arm, concerned. “You all right?”
“Yeah,” he said in a none-too-convincing tone.
“I thought I was the one supposed to be getting weepy,” joked Donna. “Come on, tell me. What is it? I know Mum can be a bit overbearing sometimes, and I know you like your TARDIS just the way it is. You don't have to change everything she said, you know.” She stopped and thought. “Though the mats thing probably is a good idea.”
The Doctor sank down against the nearest support column. “No, it's not that.” He looked miserable.
“What, then?”
“It's just I - you know, I can't really remember my mother.”
Donna froze, open-mouthed, not having expected to hear him say that. She stared speechlessly, her heart aching for him.
“Is that very bad?” he said pleadingly in the silence, looking up with suspiciously shiny eyes. “It's just that it was such a long time ago. Far longer than you can even imagine. Hundreds and hundreds of years, and I was so small ... I want to remember, Donna, but as hard as I try, I just can't - I can't. And having your mum here made me feel that if I could remember, that's what I'd want mine to be like. How she was sort of telling me off when I didn't realise I needed it, but looking out for us too. It was nice.”
His voice broke on the last words and Donna promptly sat down, grabbing him and cradling him. He wrapped his arms around her thankfully and buried his head in her shoulder.
“And then I thought,” he went on, his voice muffled, “with a mum like yours, you'll be a really good one too. Which I knew you would be anyway.”
Donna found she couldn't say anything. She tightened her embrace fiercely and they sat like that for a few minutes, taking strength from holding each other.
Eventually he moved back and gave her a warm smile, which she returned.
“We better get a move on,” he said.
“For what?”
“Meeting your midwife. Since it seems you're not going to a hospital.”
“I thought my mother was going to help out. Won’t a midwife freak out at Miss Non-Species tucked away in here?”
“Not where I’m taking you,” said the Doctor, a small grin returning to his face as he got up and set the coordinates for Martha and Tom’s flat.
Part 4