Holidays couldn't last forever. Which probably explained why Donna was knee-deep in mud, soaking wet, freezing cold and three miles from the bleedin' TARDIS. Warm tropic suns, the Doctor had said. Glorious sunny beaches, he'd promised. The greatest meteor shower this side of the galaxy. Too bad they'd landed a decade too early in the middle of
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Aye, Sweetheart, that sounds lovely."
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"Oh most definitely!"
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She smiles, enjoying the hugging, a lot.
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"You leave 'er to me, love."
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"Maybe she will take it better, if it comes from your Gramps," he agrees.
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