(Untitled)

[walkingthedust]

[Donna wakes up, stretches, and yawns - then pauses for a moment and double-takes]

[in a distinctly male and Scottish voice] Oh, hell, not again.

[Peter Carlisle]
Do I even need to ask where my body's gone?

Comments

Donna

[hollowlegs]

[grumble] You won't have to look far.

Peter

[walkingthedust]

Every bloody time. This place must hate us.

Donna

[hollowlegs]

I'm really beginning to believe that, yes.

Peter

[walkingthedust]

[sigh] At least you haven't had any animal losses yet.

[queendramabitch]

Peter?

[walkingthedust]

Er...not precisely.

[queendramabitch]

[fuck]

Who is it, then?

[walkingthedust]

Donna.

[disamtyler]

Oh dear...

[walkingthedust]

Yeah, it's absolutely brilliant, isn't it? [dryly] And I suppose now Gene's lost his excuse for not punching me.

[dci_gene_hunt]

You really shouldn't give me ideas Donna luv.

[walkingthedust]

Oh, come on, it wasn't that insulting, was it? 'Sides, I've been in a few fights over the years. I know how to handle myself.

outside

[walkingthedust]

[and now Donna's outside to meet Gene to fight; she's standing there, looking a little awkward and wondering if she ought to be stretching or something]

[dci_gene_hunt]

[Gene wanders out, already shrugging off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves]

[laughs when he sees 'her'] You are fucking joking - you're a bleedin beanpole woman, I could just blow you over.

[walkingthedust]

Yeah, well, I suppose your insulating layer of fat from sitting behind a desk might give you a bit of an advantage here.

[dci_gene_hunt]

[Oh you've *really* underestimated the Gene Genie Donna sweet'art]

It's muscle you dozy bint.

[loosening his tie, jacket is tossed aside, cigarette tossed aside - and he saunters over - casual as you like]