Her Role
Title: Her Role.
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Donna, Davenport.
Word Count: 704.
Rating: PG
Summary: Donna takes it upon herself to be the sympathetic shoulder.
Author's Notes: Spoilers for Unicorn and the Wasp. Was originally meant to deal more with Donna and the Doctor and how they were viewed, but it got away from me. Written for the Doctor_Donna prompt "Mum's the word" though the prompt word "purpose" also fits.
It was just typical that the Doctor could somehow land them in a party in the '20s with Agatha Christie and have there be a murder to boot. She wondered if he did it on purpose and was really just a great actor when he pretended to be surprised. With a sigh, her third in the last six minutes, she slid through the back door of the main house and gave the grounds a quick, sweeping glance. She knew she'd seen Davenport, the poor guy, leaving through that same door as she left Lady Eddison's room.
It just wasn't fair. The Doctor and her had spotted it almost immediately and it seemed that it was common, if unspoken, knowledge in the house that he and Roger had something more than a servant-master relationship, and still she knew he'd have to mourn him privately. Damn 1920's.
One of the finely pruned shrubberies shuddered to her left and she was instantly alert. She'd be furious with herself if she let that stupid wasp get the best of her when she'd gone out to help someone. And she could only imagine how the Doctor would have to explain to her mum that she'd been killed in the '20s by a giant wasp (well, that had the potential to be rather amusing, actually).
“Davenport?” A shocked sort of squeak preceded the pretty face of the Eddison's servant. “There you are. I've been looking for you.” She moved to join him behind the shrubbery, only taking note of his frightened look when she was standing in front of him.
“I haven't done anything, I swear. I wouldn't kill Roger- Mr. Eddison. I-” She cut him off with a wave of her hand and gave him a sympathetic look.
She placed both her hands on his shoulders and smoothed out his rumpled suit in an effort to calm him. “I know you didn't kill him. No one suspects that at all.” His shoulders eased under her hands with his relieved sigh. “I just came to see how you were doing?”
Silence hung over them for a minute or so while he looked anywhere but at her. “I'm fine. Of course. I'm just a servant, why wouldn't I be?”
Donna couldn't help but tut at him the way her mother always did when she caught her father in a lie. She wasn't going to point out that his eyes were glossy and his nose red, instead she just continued to smooth out the lapels of his jacket and brush off a leaf that had fallen on his shoulder. “You don't have to lie to me. You and Roger were lovers-” He made another sort of squeak- “and that's perfectly fine. I have plenty of mates that like men. All I want to know is if you're alright.”
He seemed to deflate right in front of her, as though she'd popped a balloon. Suddenly he was hugging her and she stumbled back in surprise. His shoulders shook and she wrapped her arms around him and muttered comforting words as he cried.
Sometimes Donna thought this was her real job as the Doctor's companion. She was all too aware of her self-imposed duty to stop him when he needed stopping and her rather secret duty of being there whenever he needed and ensuring he was never alone, but she often found herself having to be the human voice to whoever they met. The Doctor would save them all and change their lives forever and no one would ever forget him, but it was her job to look after the individuals.
Spent and resigned Davenport finally pulled himself up and away from her. She wished she'd carried a handkerchief to go with her ensemble but he was prepared and pulled a tissue from his inner breast pocket. “You won't say anything, will you?” He busied himself with looking presentable for when he inevitably had to return to the kitchens. “Not even to your Doctor?”
Donna wanted to correct him- tell him he wasn't her Doctor- but instead she smiled a sad little smile and held a finger to her mouth. “Mum's the word.”
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Donna, Davenport.
Word Count: 704.
Rating: PG
Summary: Donna takes it upon herself to be the sympathetic shoulder.
Author's Notes: Spoilers for Unicorn and the Wasp. Was originally meant to deal more with Donna and the Doctor and how they were viewed, but it got away from me. Written for the Doctor_Donna prompt "Mum's the word" though the prompt word "purpose" also fits.
It was just typical that the Doctor could somehow land them in a party in the '20s with Agatha Christie and have there be a murder to boot. She wondered if he did it on purpose and was really just a great actor when he pretended to be surprised. With a sigh, her third in the last six minutes, she slid through the back door of the main house and gave the grounds a quick, sweeping glance. She knew she'd seen Davenport, the poor guy, leaving through that same door as she left Lady Eddison's room.
It just wasn't fair. The Doctor and her had spotted it almost immediately and it seemed that it was common, if unspoken, knowledge in the house that he and Roger had something more than a servant-master relationship, and still she knew he'd have to mourn him privately. Damn 1920's.
One of the finely pruned shrubberies shuddered to her left and she was instantly alert. She'd be furious with herself if she let that stupid wasp get the best of her when she'd gone out to help someone. And she could only imagine how the Doctor would have to explain to her mum that she'd been killed in the '20s by a giant wasp (well, that had the potential to be rather amusing, actually).
“Davenport?” A shocked sort of squeak preceded the pretty face of the Eddison's servant. “There you are. I've been looking for you.” She moved to join him behind the shrubbery, only taking note of his frightened look when she was standing in front of him.
“I haven't done anything, I swear. I wouldn't kill Roger- Mr. Eddison. I-” She cut him off with a wave of her hand and gave him a sympathetic look.
She placed both her hands on his shoulders and smoothed out his rumpled suit in an effort to calm him. “I know you didn't kill him. No one suspects that at all.” His shoulders eased under her hands with his relieved sigh. “I just came to see how you were doing?”
Silence hung over them for a minute or so while he looked anywhere but at her. “I'm fine. Of course. I'm just a servant, why wouldn't I be?”
Donna couldn't help but tut at him the way her mother always did when she caught her father in a lie. She wasn't going to point out that his eyes were glossy and his nose red, instead she just continued to smooth out the lapels of his jacket and brush off a leaf that had fallen on his shoulder. “You don't have to lie to me. You and Roger were lovers-” He made another sort of squeak- “and that's perfectly fine. I have plenty of mates that like men. All I want to know is if you're alright.”
He seemed to deflate right in front of her, as though she'd popped a balloon. Suddenly he was hugging her and she stumbled back in surprise. His shoulders shook and she wrapped her arms around him and muttered comforting words as he cried.
Sometimes Donna thought this was her real job as the Doctor's companion. She was all too aware of her self-imposed duty to stop him when he needed stopping and her rather secret duty of being there whenever he needed and ensuring he was never alone, but she often found herself having to be the human voice to whoever they met. The Doctor would save them all and change their lives forever and no one would ever forget him, but it was her job to look after the individuals.
Spent and resigned Davenport finally pulled himself up and away from her. She wished she'd carried a handkerchief to go with her ensemble but he was prepared and pulled a tissue from his inner breast pocket. “You won't say anything, will you?” He busied himself with looking presentable for when he inevitably had to return to the kitchens. “Not even to your Doctor?”
Donna wanted to correct him- tell him he wasn't her Doctor- but instead she smiled a sad little smile and held a finger to her mouth. “Mum's the word.”